When Mycroft stepped into the dingy flat, he wasn’t sure
what to expect. He had seen Greg’s flat on surveillance footage and the like,
but he had never actually seen the inside of it. That was taking it too far,
even for him. He didn’t want to scare the man away, not when their first date
had gone so well.
Greg had already stepped into the kitchen, donning a simple
white apron. “You can make yourself at home. I’m sorry about the mess.
I’ve been swamped with paperwork at the Yard and haven’t had time to clean. I
haven’t even had a day off since that whole cannibalism thing Sherlock solved
last week.” He chuckled softly, withdrawing two defrosted pork chops from
his fridge, along with several fresh vegetables and a bottle of Chardonnay.
Mycroft smiled as he heard the man’s voice carry through
from the kitchen. He propped his umbrella against the wall near a table with a
bowl for keys and other belongings. Mycroft slipped off his coat and looked
around for a place to hang it. God, he felt terribly out of place here, but he
found a hook next to where Greg’s was currently hanging.
He figured he would get used to it in time. No doubt Greg
would feel lost in his home too. Mycroft smiled at the thought of that. He
would love to take Greg back to his overly elaborate old house someday.
Patience, Mycroft. Get through one date at a time.
He berated himself for thinking in such a way. He completely
enjoyed spending time with the man in the kitchen. In fact, instead of just
sitting in the lounge and making himself comfortable, he ambled into the
kitchen to watch Greg at work. He had impressed upon the government official
that his cooking skills were one of the best things about him. Mycroft had to
see it for himself to be sure. Sure enough, as he walked into the other room,
Greg was busy at work cooking the pork and seasoning it with a flick of garlic
and a few other spices.
“You don’t have to wait around in here, you know.” Greg said
without turning around. Mycroft noticed that while Greg wore the apron, the
Holmes brother’s eyes followed the apron strings downward. His cheeks flushed slightly
at the sight before him, rather enjoying it. But then Greg turned around and
moved to his countertop to slice up the vegetables.
Mycroft quickly glanced away, clearing his throat slightly. “Don’t
be absurd. I’m here for an evening with you, after all. Is there anything I can
do to help?”
“Not at all,” Greg said, grabbing a chef’s knife from the
block nearby. Mycroft noticed that it was stainless steel. Greg didn’t get paid
an extreme amount from his work as a Detective Inspector, but it was decent
enough. It appeared most of that funding went to his kitchen. So why on earth
did he insist on living in such a dreadful apartment? “Sorry, that came out a
bit harshly. I get rather focused when I’m cooking.”
Mycroft smiled at him. “No worries, Gregory. These skills
are intriguing me. I cannot wait to see what they deliver.” A small smirk
twitched on his lips and he took the seat at the end of Greg’s kitchen table. “So,
what is the plan for this evening, Inspector? After our night out in your
Italian restaurant, and the one soon following when I treated you to a symphony
concert and elaborate dinner, I am interested to know what’s… on the menu.”
Mycroft licked his lips ever so gently, not breaking eye contact with Greg.
Greg, flustered to a maximum level, blushed a deep red and
nearly missed the onion he had been cutting. Luckily, the knife fell directly
against the cutting board, missing his fingers. He swore and turned his
attention back to the food. God damn, Mycroft, Greg thought to himself. He
chuckled nonetheless. “Give me just a few minutes to get this going fully, and
then I’ll come back to that comment.”
Mycroft, amused albeit a bit nervous, nodded to him. He
noticed the near danger that Greg had caused and his eyes widened in alarm. A
small pang of guilt ran through his chest, but it quickly subsided as he
realized the man was okay. “My apologies for that. I did not mean to make you
nearly amputate your appendages.”
Greg laughed. He rather enjoyed Mycroft’s way with words.
The impressive lexicon of the elder Holmes amazed the DI. He wasn’t an idiot,
by any means, but Mycroft was the cleverest man in London. Probably in the
world. And he was having dinner in Greg’s tiny kitchen. “It’s fine. Wouldn’t be
the first time I injured myself cooking.”
“We do learn best from experience, but I would prefer it if
you kept your digits out of the dinner. And attached to you.” Mycroft laughed
to himself. Greg chuckled too, and threw the freshly chopped veggies in another
pan to cook along with some olive oil and a bit of seasoning. Perfect. He
poured some wine into two glasses and glanced at Mycroft before walking over to
the table, taking the seat next to him. He moved his chair closer; Mycroft did
the same and took the glass.
“Thank you, Inspector.”
“Of course, Mr. Holmes. It’s not as fancy as the dinner we
had last week, but it’s something.” He said, clinking his glass against the
other man’s. “Oh, I was so busy cooking that I forgot something.” Greg set his
glass aside and gently leaned forward, grasping the knot of Mycroft’s tie to
pull him closer. Their lips soon landed together. The kiss was slow and
feather-light initially, but Mycroft quickly gained control of it and deepened
it, enjoying the pure bliss that radiated from the both of them. The government
official’s hands found themselves tugging Greg closer, one gently caressing his
face, the other carding through those silvery locks he adored so much. Greg
smirked through the kiss and lightly nibbled on Mycroft’s bottom lip before
“Sorry, got to check the food.” He winked at him and
sauntered back across the kitchen.
Mycroft pouted slightly, knowing that Greg had done that on
purpose to just leave him wanting more. His recently made-official relationship
status played in his mind. The night that he had asked Greg out properly was a
night he was never going to forget. Their first kiss was as beautiful as
expected; most people would have expected the Iceman to be rubbish at it, but
with powers of deduction such as his, he could figure exactly what someone
wanted. Well, when he was able to think straight. Plus, the fact that he wanted to kiss someone as lovely as Greg
Lestrade only made it easier.
That had been a month ago. It only took two dates before the
men realized they were just prolonging the time that they could actually be an
item. Boyfriends. Mycroft never thought he would accept that term, but he
rather loved the idea of it, especially with the man before him.
The rest of the cooking time passed in a blur. The two
talked about work and the latest developments in their professional lives.
Although that was mostly Greg talking, as Mycroft couldn’t discuss his job with
“I know I can’t know what you actually do, but something
would be nice. You’re so mysterious.” Greg said, but it was an affectionate
Mycroft let loose a short laugh. “You know that if I told
you anything at all, I’d have to kill you. And that would be most unfortunate,
Greg was taking a sip of wine and nearly choked as he said
the words. He watched the British Government for a minute, unsure whether or
not he merely jested. When he didn’t get a read, he gulped down the wine and
moved back to the counter to prepare the plates for dinner. He served Mycroft
first, topping off his glass of wine. Mycroft thanked him and waited for him to
sit down before making a move to taste the meal.
Greg stopped him before he could. “Uh uh, not yet.” He said,
raising a finger. Perplexed, Mycroft paused, watching the other man with
heightened interest. He disappeared into the other room, only to come back
lighting a candle. He placed it on the table and smiled. “There. Now you can go
Mycroft shook his head and laughed to himself at Greg’s
antics. Greg watched him intently. Mycroft raised the fork to his lips, the
food steaming. He bit into the meat.
It was cooked to perfection.
“Delicious.” Mycroft said, but it was hard to tell whether
or not he was talking about the food. Greg smiled at him and tucked in himself.
“I’m glad you like it. It was quite simple. I don’t have a
lot of stuff in my kitchen, and most of my money goes to helping out the kids,
but…” Greg trailed off. The children were a difficult subject for him.
Mycroft noticed the troubled countenance of his boyfriend
and sighed. He reached over and grasped his hand. “It is always difficult when
families have conflicts, Gregory. I sympathize entirely.” He smiled, just a
When the meal was finished, both of them cleaned up the
kitchen. Greg hummed and dried the dishes while Mycroft washed them. It was a
rather spectacular sight, as Mycroft had finally removed his suit coat,
revealing his waistcoat and crisp white shirt. But that was nothing, especially
when he rolled the sleeves of said shirt. God, the man wore so much clothing
and just seeing him in such a relaxed state made Greg’s mind wander. Greg knew
that Mycroft wore as much physical armor as he did mental. He was a tough nut
to crack, but he was slowly starting to get a read on him. Slowly, softly,
gently. He’d learn to understand the Iceman and ensure that his once icy heart
stayed burning hot.
As they finished cleaning up and Mycroft wandered over to
the table to finish his glass of wine, Greg smirked and saw an opportunity. He
wound the tea towel in his hand round and round itself before playfully
snapping it in Mycroft’s direction, hitting him right on the ass. Mycroft
actually squeaked and nearly spilled wine on himself, and Greg couldn’t help
but double over laughing.
The government official scowled down his nose at the man,
but he couldn’t fight back the smile that broke through his normally grim
features. “You know, I could have you beheaded for that.”
“I’d like to see you try, my dear.” Greg giggled, hanging
the towel over the side of the sink. Before he knew it, Mycroft was hugging him
from behind, placing the two wine glasses in the sink as he did so. His arms
trailed around his boyfriend like a vine. Greg, shocked, had never seen Mycroft
instigate such a deep display of affection. Of course they had kissed, and it
was all very well and good, but never something as delightfully domestic as this.
“Well, someone’s feeling cuddly.” He said, glancing over at
Mycroft, who had rested his head on Greg’s shoulder. The other man shook with a
soft laugh, making Greg smile warmly.
“I have no idea to what you refer, my dear Gregory.”
“And you’re a bloody awful liar.” Greg said as he turned
around to face the other man, who had backed off slightly. Mycroft had seen the
opportunity. He’d seen several people do the same thing he had just done during
his… research sessions on relationships at work. He was clueless when it came
to affairs of the heart, but not a single soul needed to know that. It was also
a good thing his government laptop was entirely secure from potential prying
“Mm, perhaps.” He said as Greg turned to face him, his arms
draped around his shoulders and meeting behind his neck. Greg’s fingers played
with the edge of his hair, tugging it slightly. Mycroft chuckled at him. “Say,
what’s the next part of this delightful evening in, Inspector?” The government
official practically purred the words at him, and it sent a shiver down the DI’s
“Hmm, I thought we could watch a movie and just enjoy the
rest of that wine. And each other’s company. In other words, I want to cuddle
with you.” Greg grinned at him. Mycroft blushed and reached down to adjust his
already perfect tie. Greg shook his head at him; he was always doing that. He
loved it when he did. There were many things about that man that he adored. Of
course, it was too soon to say those three little words, but they were always
on Greg’s mind. How could one man affect him so strongly?
Oh if Greg only knew that the same exact thoughts were going
through Mycroft’s mind at the same time.
“A film? What will we be watching then, Gregory?” Mycroft
asked as Greg led him into the lounge.
Greg watched him for a moment. “Well, action movies are some
of my favorites. Die Hard in
Mycroft returned the steady gaze, not letting on that he
found action movies absurdly predictable and extremely limited by the genre.
Nevertheless, he smiled. “I see.”
Greg furrowed his brow at him. “You don’t want to watch it.”
It wasn’t a question. Mycroft glanced up, amused and impressed that Greg had
read him so easily.
“I didn’t say that. I normally don’t watch these silly action
films. But… It’s what you like, and I’m happy when you’re happy, Gregory.”
Greg beamed, unable to help himself. He played the movie,
but Mycroft didn’t catch very much of it. Of course, he could hear the audio.
But with Greg lying on top of him, kissing him in that way he enjoyed so very
much, he honestly couldn’t care less what was playing in the background.
Tags below the cut. :) Let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged. Thank you for reading.
my favorite thing about the sherlock aftermath is the fannibals sliding into the tag like “heyyyyy you want explicit queer couples, pretentiousness, crime-solving, with a dose of cannibalism? JOIN US.”
Uncle Sherlock was plucking his violin in agitation, his leg bouncing and a scowl on his face as his glared burned a hole into the woman sitting opposite him.
In Dad’s old chair, Aunt Molly was curled up, drinking her tea and flipping through an old science book, absolutely content.
From her place on the couch, Rosie analyzed the situation, a plan forming in her mind.
Aunt Molly had been bustling about all week, cleaning and humming and generally content to look after the Consulting Detective in Mrs Hudson’s absence while the landlady was off to some foreign land with her latest beau.
Uncle Sherlock was in a strop, staring at her constantly and only looked away when she caught him looking. He had declared on multiple occasions that he did not want to be looked after like some errant child.
And if Baker Street was more of a disaster than usual… well, who was Rosie to assume that is was purposeful?
She shook her head.
Her godparents were such idiots, sometimes.
Rosie followed her aunt into the kitchen. ‘You have to get him out of here, he’s going to shoot the wall again! Take him out on a case or something! Isn’t there a cooler of body parts at Bart’s you could lock him in?’
‘As if that silly lock could hold him,’ Molly laughed and set the dirty tea cups in the sink. ‘Just wait, he will get a good case, a Nine or a Ten, any day now and be running about London working off all that energy.’
Rosie inwardly groaned as her aunt began to gather the rest of the dirty dishes from around the kitchen and filled the sink with soapy water.
Well, if Aunt Molly wouldn’t listen, she would have to work on Uncle Sherlock.
He grunted but didn’t look away from glaring at Molly, who was happily bleaching the kitchen counters.
‘I think Aunt Molly needs to get out for a bit.’
His fingers tightened around the neck of his violin. 'Why?’
Rosie sat down on the arm of his chair and crossed her arms. 'Because eventually she will clean out every inch of this place, and that includes your experiments in the vegetable crisper.’
A flash of panic crossed her uncle’s face.
'Take her for a walk; fresh air might do her some good, she has been breathing in way too much cleaning product. And get something to eat, the only edible things in this flat are classified under cannibalism.’
Well, that made Sherlock jump into action.
'Molly!’ Sherlock leapt to his feet.
Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, Molly looked up. 'What?’
He hesitated momentarily, so Rosie gave him an encouraging shove. He stumbled forward and sent her a glare over his shoulder.
'Would you like to…’
’…solve a case?’
’…have dinner?’ Sherlock blinked when they both spoke at the same time.
Molly straightened up. A blush rose on her cheeks. 'Oh.’
With another less than gentle shove from Rosie, Sherlock stepped into the kitchen. 'How does Angelo’s sound?’
'It sounds wonderful, but I’m not really hungry.’
Rosie grimaced and dropped her head into her hand. Oh, for the love of God, Aunt Molly! He is finally asking you out and you say you’re not hungry!
Sherlock cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed. 'I see.’
But then a smile spread across Molly’s face. 'I think I can work up an appetite on a case, though.’
Instantly, Sherlock’s face lit up. As he spun around, Rosie picked up his mobile and tossed it to him.
She winked at him when he caught it. A fond smile creased his face.
Molly quickly peeled off her protective gloves and hurried to put her coat on. 'So, what case are we going to take?’
Sherlock quirked an eyebrow and tossed her the phone. 'Whichever one you want.’
'Really?’ Molly asked excitedly. Before he could even answer, she had unlocked his phone and was scrolling through his emails. Rosie beamed proudly as the two of them made their way out the door, Sherlock’s hand on Molly’s back.
'Oh, Sherlock, let’s take this one!’
Sherlock’s incredulous bellow echoed up the stairs. 'A missing cat?! Molly Hooper, we are not taking this ridiculous case!’
'You said it was my choice, now put on your gloves and scarf, it’s cold outside,’ came Molly’s stern reply.
The sound of the door closing behind them cut off their good-natured bickering. Rosie grinned smugly to herself and sauntered downstairs to 221C.
Her dad was snoozing on the couch and she dropped down beside him. He woke with a start and looked at her blearily.
'Hey. Have they killed each other already?’
Rosie just laughed and tucked herself against his side.
It was only a matter of time now.
Who would have expected that a simple case of a runaway cat would lead Sherlock and Molly into a nest of smugglers, resulting in a grand chase across London, finding the kidnapped son of a foreign leader, and an unexpected proposal in the back of a police car with Sherlock in handcuffs?
Well, since when did anyone in their family do anything even remotely normal? Rosie smirked as she took a generous bite of rich wedding cake and proudly watched her godparents waltz around the room.
Series Two is EMP: Mycroft Meeting with Moriarty and John
If EMP starts on
the roof or after Sherlock jumps: How does Sherlock know Mycroft
met with Moriarty in THoB?
present for the meeting between Mycroft and Moriarty at the end of
While Sherlock is
giving his explanation of the fall to Anderson in TEH, we get these
two parallels below:
The one on the
left is a flashback during Mycroft’s conversation with John in TRF.
And the one on the right is a flashback during Sherlock’s explanation
to Anderson in TEH.
If EMP began on
the roof or after, how does Sherlock know Mycroft met with Moriarty
in a cell? How does he have the same flashback? No one ever told
Sherlock. John never told him.
present for the conversation between Mycroft and John in TRF.
TRF, John told Mycroft that he gave Moriarty the perfect ammunition
to destroy Sherlock. In TST, the word ammunition
is used again by Mary. Mary also wasn’t present for the conversation
in TRF. We learn that ammunition
is really amo or
And later we are told Norbury used the code word love.
Norbury is love.
So love replaces ammunition in the scene from TRF. Norbury is John
and Mycroft. But is Norbury
Yes. Wasn’t it
actually Sherlock who gave Moriarty the ammunition? Didn’t Sherlock
give Moriarty love to use against him?
Yes. “I’ll burn
the heart out of you.”
name is love. amo, amas,
amat. “I love, you love, he
Mary’s death scene is a recreation of
TRF. Sherlock is a witness to his own destruction.
Norbury, or love,
is sent to prison. Sherlock keeps his emotions inside his own prison,
context destroys you every time.” - Eurus/Sherlock
Mycroft is suppose
to be a mirror for Sherlock’s cold mask. But because the mask is just
a facade, Sherlock subconsciously uses his brother to remind himself
of his love for John.
Mycroft is a
stand-in for Sherlock during the meeting with Moriarty in THoB, and
during the conversation with John in TRF.
How else do we know this?
Mycroft’s Meeting with Moriarty in THoB is Recreated in TFP
Mycroft meeting with Moriarty in THoB & shown in flashbacks in
TRF = Mycroft meeting with Moriarty at Sherrinford shown in a
Eurus meets with Moriarty. She takes the place of Mycroft meeting
Moriarty in a cell in THoB.
“Mycroft fed Moriarty information about me” = Eurus’ five
minute “Redbeard” conversation with Moriarty.
And if Eurus is Sherlock…
Then it’s actually Sherlock who takes Mycroft’s place in THoB. And
it’s Sherlock who takes over Mycroft’s place in the conversation with
John in TRF.
Sherlock is actually saying in TEH: “I fed Moriarty
information about me.”
And he did. However, Sherlock didn’t feed Moriarty information
about his reputation, he fed him information about his heart.
“New information. She’s out.” John in TFP. Eurus out of her
cell is love. Sherlock in love. Moriarty let out of his cell in THoB
is love unleashed. Sherlock believing love is dangerous, a weakness, ammunition
is what leads him to the rooftop of Bart’s Hospital.
The five minute conversation between Eurus and Moriarty is the
meeting at the pool in TGG. Is this where EMP begins? Sherlock, not
Mycroft, gave Moriarty ammunition. Sherlock gave him amo. He
gave Moriarty love to use against him. He gave him Redbeard.
He gave him John.
Eurus puts Mycroft in her old
cell = Sherlock puts himself/his love for John in his old cell. Eurus
only had one cell in TFP. The old cell they are referring to is the other
metaphorical one from ThoB/TRF where Sherlock fed
his heart to Moriarty.
“Do you have cannibals here?”
Who are the other three cannibals Sherlock fed his heart to?
Irene, CAM, and Janine? “Yes, you are.” “Look how you care
about John Watson,” “I know what kind of man you are.”
Side note: In HLV, Sherlock tells Mary that he won the empty
houses of Leinster Gardens from the “Clarence House Cannibal” in
a card game. Mary is a mirror for Sherlock’s cold facade, the
sociopath he tries so hard to be. The empty houses are his
soul/emotions. The Cannibal is Moriarty. Sherlock didn’t win in the
game against Moriarty, he lost. “Nearly cost me my kidneys” =
Cost Sherlock his heart. The lie hidden in plain sight.
“Mycroft has been lying to you.” No. Sherlock has been lying
“You were upset, so you told yourself a better story.”
Why is Anderson wearing John’s sweater from ASIP in TEH?
Sherlock’s explanation to Anderson in TEH is a recreation of
Mycroft and John’s conversation in TRF. Anderson is suppose to be
John. And Sherlock is suppose to be Mycroft.
This is suppose to be a love confession
caught on camera.
“In the act!”
The sweater is amo…love. Both
Anderson and little Eurus wear the sweater because Sherlock keeps
trying to forget love. Love is manipulative (Eurus) and can rule your
head, make you crazy (Anderson).
“But he can’t stop confessing.”
This is also why Anderson’s scene interrupts the confession in the
train car carrying the bomb/heart. The bomb is a callback to John
wearing the bomb in TGG. It’s all about love, but because Sherlock
believes love is abhorrent and dangerous, he interrupts his own
narrative to deflect his emotions. Ironically, he envisions Anderson
in John’s sweater because he can’t escape the truth (love) no matter
how hard he tries.
“Once you’ve opened your heart, you can’t close it again.”
y'all are complaining about tfp here let me give you a list of the things in that episode that were amazing
-Moriarty wearing those sunglasses
-guys we got new moriarty content
-Mycroft character development
-the beautiful skill of Eurus
-the acting talent behind her omfg
-“do you have cannibals here”
-Sherlock considers John family
-that weird thing with the glass that was cool
-Eurus/moriarty glass sex thing what even was that
-“I love you”
-guyyssssss moriarty came back
-Eurus has really pretty teeth
-the fact that Sherlock and Eurus were so similar it was gorgeous
-the acting it was oh my god I can’t
-the scene with John about to kill the dude
-this man was a soldier and he couldn’t even kill a desperate man
-anyways it was aesthetically pleasing
-I’m sorry but moriarty is a FRICKING AMAZING DUDE
-“I want to see you interact with people who are close to you”
-John the gun geek
-Mrs. Hudson being sassy to Mycroft
-John being sassy to Mycroft
-Sherlock being sassy to Mycroft
- “soldiers today”
-Sherlock is willing to die to save his friends
-tumblr was actually right with the Redbeard-is-a-person theory omg
-like when had tumblr been right before
-the ending it was emotionally painful
but super heartwarming
-frickin violin music was beautiful
-Sherlock re-shot the wall
-John and Sherlock being Rosie’s gay dads