Breaking the ice {Mystrade}

Chapter Three - A meeting at Scotland Yard

Mycroft placed the phone back in its holder, then wandered back to his armchair. An hour and a half was ample time to get ready and travel to Scotland Yard, but for whatever reason, he felt inclined to run upstairs and prepare himself immediately. Myc did however withhold himself, and settled into the comfortable leather chair.
Should he have told Greg not to waste his time? At the time, it had slipped out quite easily, but on second thoughts, he was worried he'd come across as cold and careless. Although that wasn't all that unusual.
Mycroft put his eagerness to get ready down to boredom. Without any form of work to keep him busy, Mycroft was painfully bored. Usually, he would resort to entertaining himself with his own thoughts - the debates he would have inside his own mind were often heated and of the greatest interest. However those debates were best saved for when he was pretending to listen to imbeciles such as the Prime Minister.
A cup of tea and a three digestive biscuits later, it was 07:30 and Mycroft felt it would be acceptable to get ready. He took a short, hot shower; combed back his dark, auburn hair; applied a little light concealer and lastly, sprayed on a small amount of Men's perfume.
He opened up his large wardrobe and pondered over his choice of outfit. At first, he felt his classic pinstripe would do the job - classy but formal. Gregory did say it was urgent. Although he didn't want to seem too imposing - after all, it was the suit he'd worn the first time he kidnapped John. Eventually he settled on a pale grey three-piece and his favourite, umbrella-decorated, tie.
Finally, Mycroft picked up his trusty umbrella (freshly loaded with new bullets) and strolled up the gravel path to his large, iron gates.
Already a sleek, black car awaited him, and the chauffeur primly opened the back door.
"Thank you."
"Your welcome, Mr Holmes. Where shall I be taking you?"
"Scotland Yard. Would you mind putting the blue lights on? I need to arrive promptly."

Meanwhile, Greg and John sipped coffee and waited. It was ten past eight, and they were debating when the best time to make coffee for Mycroft was. Luckily, they'd managed to find a china tea-set which was usually reserved for royalty, should they visit the yard. Greg had managed to bribe Lydia (the main desk secretary) into handing over some of her expensive Jamaica Blue Mountain coffee she'd been given as a Christmas present. All was going as smoothly as expected.

"Thank you. I shall call when I wish to be picked up." Mycroft exited the car, Umbrella first. Although it was barely raining, he opened it up - he certainly didn't want to ruin his beautiful suit.
"Mycroft Holmes. Here to see D.I. Greg Lestrade." Mycroft inquired at the front desk. The young secretary's eyes widened in shock - there were special protocols in place for Mr Mycroft Holmes.
"G-good m-morning Mr Holmes. P-please, allow me to lead you to Mr Lestrade's office." She stuttered, quickly typing in the code 'UMBRELLA' into her laptop. Immediately, several heavily armed guards surrounded the entrance behind Mycroft, and the emergency shutters folded over the windows.
"I hardly think this extra security will be necessary - in fact, I can't remember ever authorising it?" He questioned, raising a weary eyebrow.
"I do apologise, Sir. However Detective Inspector Lestrade insisted that these measures be put in place."
"Lestrade arranged this? I wasn't under the impression that Lestrade was in a position of that much authority."
"I - I'm not sure I quite understand you, Sir? D.I. Lestrade is a highly influential man of the force."
"I see." Mycroft made a mental note to re-assess own power within Scotland Yard - he was supposed to be notified of any changes.
"Dr Watson, Detective Inspector Lestrade. Good morning." Mycroft entered Greg's office, gently closing the door behind him.
"Have a seat, Mycroft. Greg - the coffee?" John said, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk.
"Er yeah - got it here." Greg passed the cup and saucer to Mycroft carefully, and as he took it, their fingertips, for a split second, touched. The two men shot surprised looks at each other, then looked away in slight embarrassment.
"So... Dr Watson. What is this urgent thing you wished to see me about?" Mycroft's heart was racing and he couldn't for the life of him work out why. His eyes darted across the room to Gregory. It was then that he noticed how dark and chocolatey his eyes were - deep and rich like his favourite chocolate cake (the sort he wasn't supposed to eat on his new diet). Good god those eyes were beautiful...
"Mycroft?" Mycroft jumped out of his skin - he hadn't listened to a single word of what John had said.
"I'm awfully sorry, Dr Watson - you were saying?"
"You see, I'm no therapist, but as a trained Doctor and a PTSD sufferer, I know that you need to get out of the house a bit more and start..."
Greg quickly zoned out of John's speech. It was lucky really that the two of them had managed to come up with a reason for Mycroft to be there. He looked up from his coffee at the man sitting across from him - Greg always admired Mycroft's perfectly tailored suits. This particular suit was especially nice, he thought. It brought out the fiercer red tones of his auburn hair but also made his stormy blue eyes appear darker.
"...you see, this is where Greg comes in - Greg, do you want to explain?"
Could he smell perfume? There was something there, something strong and alluring...
"Greg?!"
"John?"
"Are either of you actually listening to any of this? No, don't worry Lestrade, I'll explain. As I mentioned earlier, you need to socialise a little more. However, as it's only been two weeks since you-know-what, Greg here tells me there are orders for you to be protected by some level of security. I can't imagine you'd be incredibly happy with a team of armed men around you, so instead we've suggested that Greg could accompany you - just for the next two weeks."
"So what your saying, Dr Watson, is that Gregory here shall be my escort for the next two weeks?"
Greg felt a slight thrill at the sound of his full name - although at first it had startled him, he could certainly get used to hearing it.
"Only if you would be happy to authorise it, Mr Holmes..."
"Please, call me Mycroft. And yes, I supposed it would be... Appropriate."
"Are we settled, gentlemen?" John chipped in.
"I do believe so, Dr Watson. Give my... Regards to my brother, will you?"
John smiled and left, leaving Greg and Mycroft to arrange things.
"There's an excellent restaurant on Ledbury road, would you care to join me tomorrow evening?"
"Tomorrow..."
Mycroft noticed the way that Greg bit his bottom lip whilst thinking. For some reason, a warm, tingly sensation was glowing in the pit of his stomach. He could help but smile a little in spite of himself.
"Yeah I think I can do tomorrow... Any specific dress code?"
"Smart casual will do. Eight o'clock? I can arrange a taxi for you."
"Oh - thanks. My address is 34, Palmer Street - "
"Yes, I know..."
"Oh yeah - surveillance stuff and all that? Anyway... Goodbye Mycroft." He held out his hand, and Mycroft, perhaps a little too quickly, took it. As they shook hands, Mycroft felt a strange buzz of excitement. Perhaps this was the start of something wonderful.

A/N: Hello! My apologies about the lateness of this Chapter . I'm currently experiencing Writer's block (sarcastic hooray)... Hopefully next chapter will be around a bit sooner :) Hope you enjoyed xxx