His Division [Greg Lestrade One Shots]

Skeletons // Part 1 {Lestrade/Moriarty}

*Greg's POV*

Greg drummed his fingers impatiently against his desk as he tried once again to get through to you. He huffed in annoyance as he reached your voicemail once again.

"Hey. This is (Y/N). I'm either busy or don't want to talk to you. But leave a message and I'll get back to you... Maybe... BEEP..."

"(Y/N). It's Greg again. Please pick up. Sherlock thinks that you might be in danger. Just call me back when you get this. Bye"

Greg sighed and chucked the phone down on his desk. He stressfully ran his hands through his hair. Suddenly, his phone began to vibrate across his desk. He instantly looked over at the device and saw a text from you on the lock screen. He sighed with relief and promptly picked it up.

From (Y/N):

Sorry. Bad signal. Ring me. x

Greg felt his heart race as he read the text. He knew straight away that you didn't send that text. He stared fretfully at the screen for a moment, before he apprehensively hit the call button.

Oh wow. That was fast. I didn't think you'd call.

Greg felt a chill run down his spine as the person on the other end of the line spoke. It wasn't you at all. It was a man.

Why have you got this phone?

I needed to borrow it, just quickly... Actually no, I didn't. I needed to borrow the owner.

Greg felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, before he spoke again.

Who are you?

Ah you see, That's interesting. You know that rather intriguing man you call a friend.. Oh what's his name?... Sherlock. Yes, Sherlock. Well I'm like him. Just a teensy weensy bit better.

Greg felt his body prickle with fear. The man's heavy irish accent clouded with such darkness, it made Greg physically tremble like a scared little boy.

What do you want?

Nothing, I've got what I want. I just thought you might want to join in with the little game Sherlock and I are playing. You know, because you get lonely sometimes. Anyway, I must go. I've got a kitten to feed.

The line went dead and Greg stared dumbfoundedly at the phone. He froze for a second, before he abruptly shot up out of his chair. He had to find Sherlock.

***

*Your POV*

You watched as he casually hung up the phone. He laughed to himself and smoothly slid his hand through his perfectly groomed dark brown hair. He then looked up at you, his big brown eyes, pools of darkness that felt as though they burnt a hole right through your heart.

"That was your boyfriend" He said, before he laughed lightly again "Real catch" He said sarcastically widening his eyes "I can see why you're with him" He paused and casually paced around the small room "Not" He mumbled in a sing song tone. You blinked hard to try and stop yourself from crying again.

"Please. Just let me go. Find someone else to play your little games with Sherlock" You pleaded desperately, the rope tied around your wrist causing indescribable pain to your skin. His gaze instantly shot over to you, his eyes clouded with a darkness that would scare the bravest of people "This isn't about Sherlock. This is personal. Please don't be play stupid, (Y/N)" He murmured chillingly.

You growled in frustration and agitatedly tried to wriggle free. He laughed pitifully at your attempt and slowly made his way over to you. He stood over you for a moment, before he gradually knelt down in front of you, resting his hands on your knees "Come on Kitten. We both know that you're not going to get out of this. Don't we?" He said. His eyes locked intensely on you "Say my name" He said darkly. You furrowed your brow at him before you spoke again "Jim Moriarty" He shut his eyes briefly and shook his head, before he looked up at you again.