Sherlock: 2. Tea & Evaluation (Mycroft/Lestrade)
Title: Tea & Evaluation
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Disclaimer: No money is being made and no infringement is intended.
Relationship: Mycroft/Lestrade
Rating: PG
Summary: “You should really see someone about this breaking and entering problem you have, you know. It can be harmful to your health.”
Words: 1238
A/N: Part 2 of the Home Invasion 4+1 series. Part 1 here.
“You should really see someone about this breaking and entering problem you have, you know. It can be harmful to your health.” Greg said as he walked into his living room properly to stand in front of Mycroft Holmes, who was sitting in what was now becoming his usual spot after breaking into Greg’s flat.
And was that tea the man was drinking?
Mycroft did not rush to respond. He finished his sip and placed the teacup gingerly on the matching saucer he was holding, which frankly confused Greg because he knew he didn’t own any matching teacups and saucers. He sighed out loud and refused to ask if Mycroft had brought his own tea set for his break and enter session, probably brought his own tea too, the snobby bastard, and dropped down onto the sofa, as was now also becoming his wont after discovering a Holmes in his house.
Mycroft had another sip of his tea.
Oh for fucks sa- “Holmes!”
The man in question cut him an irritated look, and said, “Oh do be at peace, Detective Inspector. Honestly, what have we come to that a man can’t even finish his tea without being interrupted?”
Oh there was that urge to punch him. Greg clenched his fists. This was practically becoming routine by now.
“Probably the same point where a man can’t walk into his flat without finding it invaded by tea drinking tossers, and did you really bring your own china?”
Mycroft gave a light shrug, “Well you could hardly expect me to use what you had at hand. Half of them have chips and cracks in them and at least two of your mugs are missing a handle, Detective Inspector. This is to say nothing of whatever comes in those little bags that the boxes they come in say is tea. I daresay I took matters into my own hands in order to avoid taking my life into my hands by consuming what your kitchen offered.”
Greg rolled his eyes, “Snobby and rude. I learn something new about you everyday, Holmes.” He motioned to his coffee table where the teapot sat on a tray, more things he didn’t own. “I notice there’s not a second cup for me?”
Mycroft just sipped some more of his tea.
“Arse.”
“No need for vulgarities, I simply didn’t expect you home so soon. The paperwork alone was due to keep you for another hour. Your primary suspect in a string of murderers is now dead at the hands of a mysterious gunman. That requires a few forms in triplicate at least.”
Greg waved a hand lazily, “So I delegated. I’ve had enough of this case, at least for tonight. By the way if you wanted to discuss the case you could have done when you came by unauthorized to the crime scene. Don’t think I didn’t see you.”
Mycroft leaned forward to set the cup and saucer on the tray before leaning back in the armchair, the corner of his mouth slightly turned up. “Are you hurt I didn’t say hello, Detective Inspector?”
“No, I’m annoyed you’re once again breaking the law by unlawfully entering spaces I have control over without my permission.”
“Control, being a very strong word for your circumstances.” Mycroft forestalled any snarky responses Greg might have had by continuing, “In any case, I did not come here to discuss your case, such obvious circumstances.”
Slighted but seeing a possible end in sight Greg asked, “So what then?”
Mycroft brought his hands together, steepled under his chin, and said only, “Doctor John Hamish Watson.”
Greg tried and failed to hide his smile at Mycroft’s imitation of Sherlock (or was it Sherlock who imitated his big brother, and wasn’t that just precious?) so he misdirected with, “Sorry, Hamish?”
Mycroft shrugged. “I’m hardly in a position to deride names, am I?”
Greg gave into his chuckles, “You said it, so I won’t. What of John? Seems an alright bloke.”
“Your professional evaluation of a man who met my brother, followed him to crime scenes, and moved in with him is that he ‘seems an alright bloke’?”
Greg shrugged, “Not my professional one, no.” He narrowed his eyes at Mycroft but kept his voice easy, “My professional evaluation of John Watson is currently being ignored, what with the necessary action following my professional evaluation being an arrest for unlawful possession of a firearm, oh and then there’s the murder of my primary suspect.”
“Ah, I’d wondered if you had caught that.”
“Maybe don’t insult my intelligence right now, Holmes. Is John one of your plants or can I go and arrest him without worrying about the case falling apart due to insufficient evidence?”
“Dr. Watson is not one of my ‘plants’ as you called it. I stopped doing that after the last one Sherlock threw in the Thames.”
Greg snorted at that, recalling. “Poor bastard, lucky for him that’s all Sherlock did. Stunts like that is why your brother doesn’t trust you, Holmes.”
Mycroft pursed his lips, irritated “Back to the point at hand Detective Inspector, Dr. Watson isn’t one of my plants but I think you’ll find that any evidence brought against him in this case will be insufficient or otherwise seized as a matter of national security.”
“Why am I not surprised? What did you buy him off as an informant?”
“Always thinking the worst of me, and no I didn’t buy him off. In fact, he was very resistant to the notion.”
“Because of course you asked him to- Holmes, here we are again with the inability to earn Sherlock’s trust! What did you do to John? Kidnap him, tie him to a chair and have him interrogated by MI-5?”
Mycroft avoided his eyes. “You overestimate my capabilities, Lestrade.”
“Riiight, yeah. I’ll just ask Watson then, shall I?”
“Hmm, so you approve of his continued association with Sherlock?”
“I don’t see how either of us can stop it, Holmes. You won’t let me arrest him.”
“Please, Detective Inspector. You don’t want to arrest him. Let’s not pretend.”
“You’ve all but confirmed that he killed a man. I’m an officer of the law, it’s not about wanting to, right now it’s more about the paperwork I don’t want to bother with on a case that will never come to be.”
“Your pretense toward disinterest is dull and unconvincing, Lestrade. By all evidence, Dr. Watson killed a man, a very bad man, to save Sherlock’s life.” He leveled a look at Greg, now catching his eyes, “You’re as intrigued by the good Doctor as I am.”
“Yeah, well. Jury’s still out on ‘good’. But we’ll see. Sherlock seems to like him well enough, and if he missteps again or hurts Sherlock in any way I’ll be there, and God knows you will be too so you’ll not mind my reserving my professional evaluation for now, Holmes.”
Greg stood, feeling done with this conversation and the entire bloody night in general. “Can’t say I’m all the way alright with the situation as is, but it’ll do for the moment. Now, you finish your tea and see yourself out, you wanker, I’m for bed," He said before he turned away and walked through the hallway and to his bedroom calling out to the toff in his living room with a last, “And get Watson a bloody license for that damn gun while you’re at it, why don’t you!”
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Disclaimer: No money is being made and no infringement is intended.
Relationship: Mycroft/Lestrade
Rating: PG
Summary: “You should really see someone about this breaking and entering problem you have, you know. It can be harmful to your health.”
Words: 1238
A/N: Part 2 of the Home Invasion 4+1 series. Part 1 here.
“You should really see someone about this breaking and entering problem you have, you know. It can be harmful to your health.” Greg said as he walked into his living room properly to stand in front of Mycroft Holmes, who was sitting in what was now becoming his usual spot after breaking into Greg’s flat.
And was that tea the man was drinking?
Mycroft did not rush to respond. He finished his sip and placed the teacup gingerly on the matching saucer he was holding, which frankly confused Greg because he knew he didn’t own any matching teacups and saucers. He sighed out loud and refused to ask if Mycroft had brought his own tea set for his break and enter session, probably brought his own tea too, the snobby bastard, and dropped down onto the sofa, as was now also becoming his wont after discovering a Holmes in his house.
Mycroft had another sip of his tea.
Oh for fucks sa- “Holmes!”
The man in question cut him an irritated look, and said, “Oh do be at peace, Detective Inspector. Honestly, what have we come to that a man can’t even finish his tea without being interrupted?”
Oh there was that urge to punch him. Greg clenched his fists. This was practically becoming routine by now.
“Probably the same point where a man can’t walk into his flat without finding it invaded by tea drinking tossers, and did you really bring your own china?”
Mycroft gave a light shrug, “Well you could hardly expect me to use what you had at hand. Half of them have chips and cracks in them and at least two of your mugs are missing a handle, Detective Inspector. This is to say nothing of whatever comes in those little bags that the boxes they come in say is tea. I daresay I took matters into my own hands in order to avoid taking my life into my hands by consuming what your kitchen offered.”
Greg rolled his eyes, “Snobby and rude. I learn something new about you everyday, Holmes.” He motioned to his coffee table where the teapot sat on a tray, more things he didn’t own. “I notice there’s not a second cup for me?”
Mycroft just sipped some more of his tea.
“Arse.”
“No need for vulgarities, I simply didn’t expect you home so soon. The paperwork alone was due to keep you for another hour. Your primary suspect in a string of murderers is now dead at the hands of a mysterious gunman. That requires a few forms in triplicate at least.”
Greg waved a hand lazily, “So I delegated. I’ve had enough of this case, at least for tonight. By the way if you wanted to discuss the case you could have done when you came by unauthorized to the crime scene. Don’t think I didn’t see you.”
Mycroft leaned forward to set the cup and saucer on the tray before leaning back in the armchair, the corner of his mouth slightly turned up. “Are you hurt I didn’t say hello, Detective Inspector?”
“No, I’m annoyed you’re once again breaking the law by unlawfully entering spaces I have control over without my permission.”
“Control, being a very strong word for your circumstances.” Mycroft forestalled any snarky responses Greg might have had by continuing, “In any case, I did not come here to discuss your case, such obvious circumstances.”
Slighted but seeing a possible end in sight Greg asked, “So what then?”
Mycroft brought his hands together, steepled under his chin, and said only, “Doctor John Hamish Watson.”
Greg tried and failed to hide his smile at Mycroft’s imitation of Sherlock (or was it Sherlock who imitated his big brother, and wasn’t that just precious?) so he misdirected with, “Sorry, Hamish?”
Mycroft shrugged. “I’m hardly in a position to deride names, am I?”
Greg gave into his chuckles, “You said it, so I won’t. What of John? Seems an alright bloke.”
“Your professional evaluation of a man who met my brother, followed him to crime scenes, and moved in with him is that he ‘seems an alright bloke’?”
Greg shrugged, “Not my professional one, no.” He narrowed his eyes at Mycroft but kept his voice easy, “My professional evaluation of John Watson is currently being ignored, what with the necessary action following my professional evaluation being an arrest for unlawful possession of a firearm, oh and then there’s the murder of my primary suspect.”
“Ah, I’d wondered if you had caught that.”
“Maybe don’t insult my intelligence right now, Holmes. Is John one of your plants or can I go and arrest him without worrying about the case falling apart due to insufficient evidence?”
“Dr. Watson is not one of my ‘plants’ as you called it. I stopped doing that after the last one Sherlock threw in the Thames.”
Greg snorted at that, recalling. “Poor bastard, lucky for him that’s all Sherlock did. Stunts like that is why your brother doesn’t trust you, Holmes.”
Mycroft pursed his lips, irritated “Back to the point at hand Detective Inspector, Dr. Watson isn’t one of my plants but I think you’ll find that any evidence brought against him in this case will be insufficient or otherwise seized as a matter of national security.”
“Why am I not surprised? What did you buy him off as an informant?”
“Always thinking the worst of me, and no I didn’t buy him off. In fact, he was very resistant to the notion.”
“Because of course you asked him to- Holmes, here we are again with the inability to earn Sherlock’s trust! What did you do to John? Kidnap him, tie him to a chair and have him interrogated by MI-5?”
Mycroft avoided his eyes. “You overestimate my capabilities, Lestrade.”
“Riiight, yeah. I’ll just ask Watson then, shall I?”
“Hmm, so you approve of his continued association with Sherlock?”
“I don’t see how either of us can stop it, Holmes. You won’t let me arrest him.”
“Please, Detective Inspector. You don’t want to arrest him. Let’s not pretend.”
“You’ve all but confirmed that he killed a man. I’m an officer of the law, it’s not about wanting to, right now it’s more about the paperwork I don’t want to bother with on a case that will never come to be.”
“Your pretense toward disinterest is dull and unconvincing, Lestrade. By all evidence, Dr. Watson killed a man, a very bad man, to save Sherlock’s life.” He leveled a look at Greg, now catching his eyes, “You’re as intrigued by the good Doctor as I am.”
“Yeah, well. Jury’s still out on ‘good’. But we’ll see. Sherlock seems to like him well enough, and if he missteps again or hurts Sherlock in any way I’ll be there, and God knows you will be too so you’ll not mind my reserving my professional evaluation for now, Holmes.”
Greg stood, feeling done with this conversation and the entire bloody night in general. “Can’t say I’m all the way alright with the situation as is, but it’ll do for the moment. Now, you finish your tea and see yourself out, you wanker, I’m for bed," He said before he turned away and walked through the hallway and to his bedroom calling out to the toff in his living room with a last, “And get Watson a bloody license for that damn gun while you’re at it, why don’t you!”