Collecting records.
Jun. 24th, 2012 06:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
solrosanNotes: I don’t think I’ve been this hesitant to post anything since I posted my first Sherlock fic. This is very far from my comfort zone because it’s Mystrade and – accidentally – Johnlock, all rolled up into one (and I haven’t written either before). I made a Mystrade video some days ago and was most happy with Sherlock picking up Mycroft’s records. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
laurtew said that of course John would make him do that and… ta-da! fic happened.
...and I really shouldn’t write a note this long.
Summary: The story of how Mycroft got his things back.
“Heard from Mycroft?” John stood at the armrest of the sofa, playing with Sherlock’s hair. “Or talked to Greg?”
“I’m not their…mediator.” Sherlock tilted his head back to be able to glare at John properly.
“Perhaps you should be.” John said, leaning down over him. “You know, if they break up and we have to pick a side, we’re picking Mycroft’s.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s family,” John gave him a Spiderman kiss.
Sherlock dried his lips with the back of his hand. He wasn’t at all pleased with that explanation, but he didn’t argue it. Instead he got up to apply a second nicotine patch.
Sighing, John took his place on the sofa.
-x-
“You okay?” John stepped up to Lestrade as they both watched Sherlock swirl around the crime scene. Lestrade moved his weight from one leg to the other and turned his attention to his shoes.
“Has he said anything?”
“No.” John didn’t bother asking Lestrade to specify which ‘he’ he was referring to since neither of the Holmes brothers had said anything to him. “So it’s…over?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lestrade cleared his throat. “But it’s…. Yeah.”
John patted him on the shoulder before walking out on the crime scene.
“You should call Mycroft,” John whispered, crouching down next to Sherlock and the body. Sherlock raised his eyes, glaring past John’s shoulder at Lestrade.
“I know,” he said, turning his attention back to the body.
“Do it soon.”
“As soon as the case is over.”
“Sooner.”
“What do you care?” Sherlock muttered. “He’s not your brother.”
John smiled wearily and stood up. “At least text him tonight, will you? See if he needs anything.”
“Have a little faith in me, John,” Sherlock said. “I did that as soon as I saw.”
-x-
“Have you offered to pick up his things?” John asked as he and Sherlock got into bed.
“What things?”
“At least you didn’t ask ‘whose things’,” John said with a smirk. “But you know, his things. That he probably still has over at Greg’s.”
“Why would he have things there?”
“Couples who don’t live together have a tendency to litter their things all around the other’s home.”
“Why wouldn’t he be capable to pick up his own things?” Sherlock said, sounding either confused or annoyed. John couldn’t tell.
“If you for some reason moved out, would you want to come back here over and over again to pick up all your things or would you prefer Mycroft doing it for you?”
Sherlock sighed. “Well, he has a million underlings to send.”
“Seriously, Sherlock.” John got up on one elbow, “He’s the only man I know who’s prouder than you are. He would never ask anyone to do that for him. Least of all a subordinate. Or you. That’s why you should offer.”
“God, you’re annoying.”
“I know.” John kissed him and lay down again.
-x-
Do you still have things
at Lestrade’s?
SH
Yes.
MH
Are you going to get them?
SH
No, I don’t have the time.
MH
Sherlock tossed his phone at John and jumped off the sofa, starting to get dressed as John read the texts.
“Where are you going?” John asked.
“To get Mycroft’s things,” Sherlock muttered and took his phone back, giving John his jacket in exchange. “And you’re coming with me.”
-x-
“Sherlock? John?” Lestrade opened the door, looking and sounding very confused.
“Greg, hi.” John smiled politely. “We-“
“Things,” Sherlock interrupted.
“What?”
John sighed and gave Sherlock a quick glare before turning back to Lestrade. “He means: does Mycroft have any things, here, that he might want back?”
“Oh.” Lestrade looked like he had been punched. “Yeah, he… I… One moment.”
He disappeared into the flat again and came back about five minutes later with a Tesco bag filled with things. John saw at least one tie and the book he had forced Sherlock to give his brother last Christmas.
“I think that’s it,” Lestrade said, handing the bag to Sherlock.
“Thanks.” John forced another smile. “Mycroft’s busy. That’s why we….”
“It’s all right. I get it,” Lestrade said, but he was very quick to close the door after that.
-x-
“Sherlock?” Mycroft looked genuinely surprised to see his brother standing outside his door.
“Your things,” Sherlock said, demonstratively holding up the Tesco bag.
“You went to…?” Mycroft took the bag, staring at his brother.
“To Lestrade’s flat, yes. Do you want me to take his things back to him?”
“Ah, no. We were never… here.”
Sherlock nodded. He wanted to leave, but it felt like there was something else he should do before he did.
“Are you all right?” he asked, because it was the only thing he could think of. The question surprised them both and it became uncomfortably quiet. Mycroft stalled for time by looking at the items in the bag.
“Thank you,” Mycroft finally said and looked up. Then he closed the door before Sherlock had the time to say anything else.
-x-
“You okay?” John wondered when Sherlock flung himself on the sofa – where John as already sitting – without taking off his coat.
Sherlock sighed and nuzzled into John’s jumper.
“Is Mycroft okay?”
“No.”
John stroked Sherlock’s hair, leaning down to kiss his him. “You did good.”
“We’re taking Mycroft’s side.”
“Yes, Sherlock, we are,” John said quietly, wondering if Lestrade had anyone in his life who took his side.
laurtew said that of course John would make him do that and… ta-da! fic happened....and I really shouldn’t write a note this long.
Summary: The story of how Mycroft got his things back.
“Heard from Mycroft?” John stood at the armrest of the sofa, playing with Sherlock’s hair. “Or talked to Greg?”
“I’m not their…mediator.” Sherlock tilted his head back to be able to glare at John properly.
“Perhaps you should be.” John said, leaning down over him. “You know, if they break up and we have to pick a side, we’re picking Mycroft’s.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s family,” John gave him a Spiderman kiss.
Sherlock dried his lips with the back of his hand. He wasn’t at all pleased with that explanation, but he didn’t argue it. Instead he got up to apply a second nicotine patch.
Sighing, John took his place on the sofa.
-x-
“You okay?” John stepped up to Lestrade as they both watched Sherlock swirl around the crime scene. Lestrade moved his weight from one leg to the other and turned his attention to his shoes.
“Has he said anything?”
“No.” John didn’t bother asking Lestrade to specify which ‘he’ he was referring to since neither of the Holmes brothers had said anything to him. “So it’s…over?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lestrade cleared his throat. “But it’s…. Yeah.”
John patted him on the shoulder before walking out on the crime scene.
“You should call Mycroft,” John whispered, crouching down next to Sherlock and the body. Sherlock raised his eyes, glaring past John’s shoulder at Lestrade.
“I know,” he said, turning his attention back to the body.
“Do it soon.”
“As soon as the case is over.”
“Sooner.”
“What do you care?” Sherlock muttered. “He’s not your brother.”
John smiled wearily and stood up. “At least text him tonight, will you? See if he needs anything.”
“Have a little faith in me, John,” Sherlock said. “I did that as soon as I saw.”
-x-
“Have you offered to pick up his things?” John asked as he and Sherlock got into bed.
“What things?”
“At least you didn’t ask ‘whose things’,” John said with a smirk. “But you know, his things. That he probably still has over at Greg’s.”
“Why would he have things there?”
“Couples who don’t live together have a tendency to litter their things all around the other’s home.”
“Why wouldn’t he be capable to pick up his own things?” Sherlock said, sounding either confused or annoyed. John couldn’t tell.
“If you for some reason moved out, would you want to come back here over and over again to pick up all your things or would you prefer Mycroft doing it for you?”
Sherlock sighed. “Well, he has a million underlings to send.”
“Seriously, Sherlock.” John got up on one elbow, “He’s the only man I know who’s prouder than you are. He would never ask anyone to do that for him. Least of all a subordinate. Or you. That’s why you should offer.”
“God, you’re annoying.”
“I know.” John kissed him and lay down again.
-x-
Do you still have things
at Lestrade’s?
SH
Yes.
MH
Are you going to get them?
SH
No, I don’t have the time.
MH
Sherlock tossed his phone at John and jumped off the sofa, starting to get dressed as John read the texts.
“Where are you going?” John asked.
“To get Mycroft’s things,” Sherlock muttered and took his phone back, giving John his jacket in exchange. “And you’re coming with me.”
-x-
“Sherlock? John?” Lestrade opened the door, looking and sounding very confused.
“Greg, hi.” John smiled politely. “We-“
“Things,” Sherlock interrupted.
“What?”
John sighed and gave Sherlock a quick glare before turning back to Lestrade. “He means: does Mycroft have any things, here, that he might want back?”
“Oh.” Lestrade looked like he had been punched. “Yeah, he… I… One moment.”
He disappeared into the flat again and came back about five minutes later with a Tesco bag filled with things. John saw at least one tie and the book he had forced Sherlock to give his brother last Christmas.
“I think that’s it,” Lestrade said, handing the bag to Sherlock.
“Thanks.” John forced another smile. “Mycroft’s busy. That’s why we….”
“It’s all right. I get it,” Lestrade said, but he was very quick to close the door after that.
-x-
“Sherlock?” Mycroft looked genuinely surprised to see his brother standing outside his door.
“Your things,” Sherlock said, demonstratively holding up the Tesco bag.
“You went to…?” Mycroft took the bag, staring at his brother.
“To Lestrade’s flat, yes. Do you want me to take his things back to him?”
“Ah, no. We were never… here.”
Sherlock nodded. He wanted to leave, but it felt like there was something else he should do before he did.
“Are you all right?” he asked, because it was the only thing he could think of. The question surprised them both and it became uncomfortably quiet. Mycroft stalled for time by looking at the items in the bag.
“Thank you,” Mycroft finally said and looked up. Then he closed the door before Sherlock had the time to say anything else.
-x-
“You okay?” John wondered when Sherlock flung himself on the sofa – where John as already sitting – without taking off his coat.
Sherlock sighed and nuzzled into John’s jumper.
“Is Mycroft okay?”
“No.”
John stroked Sherlock’s hair, leaning down to kiss his him. “You did good.”
“We’re taking Mycroft’s side.”
“Yes, Sherlock, we are,” John said quietly, wondering if Lestrade had anyone in his life who took his side.
