Maybe One More...
“Okay, I think we’re good -that’s a wrap.” Gary lowered his camera. “We got some really great shots here!”
“Awww, not quite ready to give them up yet.” Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade mock pouted. “You guys don’t want to leave yet, do you?”
It was time for the annual New Scotland Yard Calendar photo shoot and the large room usually used for press conferences was turned into a makeshift studio. Several of NSY’s more visually appealing coppers were selected for the shoot. Though in Greg’s case, it was more of an order from his higher ups.
He had been on the telly several times in the past year having solved four high-profile cases -and three without Sherlock’s help. Each time he appeared, the emails and comment boards of NSY’s social media would go through an embarrassing uptick in volume for the several inquiries wanting, aka thirsting, after NSY’s silver fox. Greg relented telling himself it was for charity, but what really got him in the room was learning the charity for the year: Battersea Dogs and Cats Home.
A fake police line-up wall was the backdrop, and Greg sat on the mock studio floor playing with the most adorable of suspects: puppies! He was simply having a fun time with them, lamenting how the insane hours of work and his lifestyle really did not lend to keeping any pet as much as he would love to have a canine companion.
“If you want more time with them, we can get a few more shots, but you know what that means D.I. Lestrade…” Gary cajoled.
Gary was able to get Greg to pose with his shirt fully open exposing his torso. He even got him to pose with a shoulder and arm partially exposed. Even though the other eleven officers had little problem with it, what Gary could not do was get Greg to take his shirt off altogether.
Thus, Gary threw down the gauntlet: if Greg wanted more fun time with the puppies it had to be shirtless.
Greg was about to give up his puppy time when Sgt. Nicholas, who had been teasing a reticent Greg looked over in a corner. “Was that corner camera always facing this way?”
Greg froze. He played with a puppy, lifting it to hide how he slowly turned his head to look at the camera indicated. Greg was the last model. He knew the camera was not facing the set, while the others were there, he had checked. “Hmm, the cleaning people likely shifted it again. We can have security take a look when we’re done here.”
“I’ll do that.” Sgt. Nicholas nodded, “Are we done?”
Greg stood, “I swear. The things I do for charity.”
“And puppies!” Sgt. Nicholas laughed.
Seeing Greg remove his cuff links, Gary grinned getting his camera ready. “And what do you think you're doing?”
Biting his lip to hide his own grin, Greg slowly took off his shirt to cheers and cat calls.
“Maybe one more.”
“You’re going to be late for your meeting with the PM sir.”
Not that far away a certain occupant of a minor office in British government stood, about to close the browser window to the camera facing a certain detective inspector.
“In a minute, Anthea.”
Then his husband, Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade stood and began to take his shirt off.
Mycroft Holmes fell back into his seat.
“Maybe one more.”
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