#greg lestrade bbc

[inkwovenworlds]

Chapter two of my current fanfic Only for the Weekend is online. I would be so happy if you have a look.

Click here for chapter two: Middle age must get the better of you

See you there!

I hope you have a great start into the new week. 💕🍀

[anxiouslypensive]

Date Night

Summary: Greg has to make a rain check for date night

Words: 1k

Mystrade Monday: Prompt #99 “You were always good to me”

A/N: I’m a little late, but it’s finally complete

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

Part 2/full story on Ao3

Greg regretted not taking Sally’s offer on coffee this morning. Though he normally would, Mycroft had been persuading him to ease back on the caffeine.

After explaining that he didn’t want to show up to work with the eyes and reaction speed of a zombie his lovely boyfriend offered to make him tea in the morning.

However as he was chasing a criminal down the damp and grimey alleyway he wanted to change his answer. He was hoping that today would more paperwork than grunt work. As much as he loved being out in the field, today was date night and he didn’t want to be too fatigued after work.

Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. The stench would take at least 2 showers and half a bottle of Mycroft’s fancy body wash to get out.

Sherlock had taken a different route to cut off the crook, hopefully that would pay off any time now. His legs were aching and he didn’t know if he could keep up the pace any longer. The only thing making this worse was not knowing if the suspect had a weapon. This was really risky and Greg didn’t want anybody getting hurt.

“Just stop running and cooperate! We can work out a deal! You’re only making it worse!” He shouted at the man that was only about 2 meters ahead of him.

“Fuck off!”

Well that wasn’t very cordial.

The blinking of a red light near the top of a building caught Greg’s eye. CCTV. Looks like he wouldn’t have to explain why he needed an extra hour to prepare for their date.

God where was Sherlock when you needed him. The amount of trash being thrown in an attempt to slow him down was taking it’s toll.

If Sherlock wasn’t going to show soon then Greg would have take matters into his own hands. He really didn’t want to do this.

Mustering up all the energy he had left he sped up suddenly and made and attempt to tackle the criminal. This was going to hurt.

Of course they managed to tumble into two metal trash bins. As they fell the other man thrashed to get out of his grasp.

“Gah- would you- stop tha-“

The suspect managed to use his weight to shove Greg into the bins again. That was going to bruise. Somehow in the midst of the struggle he got pinned to the concrete. The impact dazed him, his vision darkening.

The last thing he heard and felt before he lost consciousness was a solemn apology, and a sharp but warm pang in his stomach.

.

.

.

“-ohn! It’s Gavin!”

How long had he been out..it couldn’t be too long. He still had a date to get to.

“Wake up Lestrade. Come on. Mycroft will have us all deported if I let you leave.”

“Wh..where am I going?”

Suddenly aware of what was happening he let out a grunt of pain.

“Sherlock get your bloody scarf off of my stomach. Why are you pressing on me so hard.”

Through bleary eyes he could see Sherlock’s grim expression. No. Not like this.

The silence was all he needed.

“Bollocks.”

“John has the suspect. I’m going to switch with him, so I need you to stay alive.”

Without missing a beat Sherlock stood abruptly and went in what he presumed the direction of the man who caused this.

John rushed over and replaced the pressure.

“It’s going to be alright Greg. Help is coming soon.”

He gave a weary to his friend. As much as he appreciated the optimism, the blood loss had already taken it’s toll.

Trying to focus on his breathing was easier than it sounded. His lungs felt like they were being squeezed and his chest felt tight. In the distance he could hear the sound of a shoe making impact with a body.

“Sher-“ Greg stopped himself from finishing his word, bile had unexpectedly tried to come up as he was attempting to speak.

He took a couple shallow breaths and tried again.

“Please.”

“Call Mycroft.”

John furrowed his eyebrows but took out his phone regardless.

“You’re going to make it Greg. Just hang in there.”

John dialed the number, placed it next to Greg’s ear, and after barely one ring it picked up.

“Yes I am on my way, the medical staff is already on standby waiti-“ The frantic voice of his boyfriend could be heard clearly.

“Mycroft…”

“Gregory..”

Greg squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of pain washed over him.

“I’m sorry honey. But..I..I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to dinner.”

“Gregory just. Just hang on please. I’m begging you, I’m almost there just hold on for me.”

It was almost humorous. He didn’t think he had ever heard the great Mycroft Holmes beg for something.

“I love you Myc.”

“Gregory! Do not even think about saying your goodbyes right now. I will make sure you are healthy enough to deal with Sherlock by next week or so help m-“

“Myc.” He stopped, and listened to the ragged breathing through the phone. It was painful to hear, but every breath meant the love of his life was still alive.

“You were always so good to me.”

Mycroft couldn’t remembered the last time he had cried. He had been to countless political leader’s funerals. Many distant family member’s memorials. Not a single tear shed.

The difference was that he didn’t care about any of them. This could very well be their last conversation and here he was. Unable to utter a response because he was afraid the next sentence would come out stuttered and cracked. So he listened.

“I love you..more than anything Mycroft. And- And if this doesn’t end well. Take care of yourself. Anthea cares about you too. Don’t shut them out.” The nearby sirens of an ambulance could be heard as well as the strain in his beloved’s voice.

“I love you too Greg..more than you could ever know.” Mycroft looked out the window and recognized the building. Before the car could fully stop he was out the door.

Breaking into a full sprint he headed for the spot he had memorized through the cameras.

“Just hold on my love.” Mycroft didn’t get a response back.

Part 2/Full story on ao3

[fantasyfan]

Sherlock post because I’m addicted

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 LAST EPISODE/SEASON 3 FIRST EPISODE 

(Apologies for not spelling their names right. I also don’t know have any idea why this is so long.)

Ok, you know how in the beginning, like, the very first episode I believe? Sherlock has those patch things. Nicotine patches I believe they’re called? But anyway, he had nicotine patches, and so did Lestrade. Sherlock said, “I don’t even smoke.” And then pushed up his sleeve to show the patches. Lestrade replied “Neither do I.” and showed Sherlock his patches. 

Then Sherlock went and “died” and what is Lestrade doing when Sherlock goes to tell him he isn’t dead? LESTRADE. IS. SMOKING. LIKE, I KNOW IT’S BEEN 2 YEARS, BUT WHAT HAPPENED TO THE NICOTINE PATCHES LESTRADE.

Is it because he misses Sherlock, or because Sherlock can’t help him with work?

I’m placing my bets on the first one. 

[fantasyimagines]

gif credit: x x