Trying to Mystrade

Greg Lestrade sighed.

John Watson put his nearly empty pint down. “What gives, mate?”

Greg’s eyes were on the telly, and his favorite team was winning, but that sigh was proof he was not watching the game.

“Gives?” Greg frowned, sipping from his more than half-full pint, “Nothing gi---”

The bar erupted in mostly joyful noise as an Arsenal player made an impressive move to get the goal. John cocked his head at Greg, who would normally be the loudest one cheering, but was oddly quiet. His not meeting John’s eyes gave away that he knew he was done for.

“I’m waiting…” John prompted at Greg’s continued silence as he sipped his pint, “What’s her name?”

“Who said anything about a her?”

John raised a brow, “What’s his name?”

“Who said anything about a he?”

“Uh huh… Just had that epiphany, you might be falling?”

Greg nearly choked as he drained his pint. “How did you know...?”

“I didn’t. Thanks for confirming.” John chuckled.

“Bastard,” Greg mumbled.

“That I am.” John raised his empty pint in mock salute as he signaled the bartender for another round. “So, the lucky person…?”

“There is no lucky person.” Greg was not ready to have that conversation. Regrettably, John was worse than Sherlock at times like this when he knew he was onto something.

“Why?”

“Because they don’t know I exist.”

“Really…?”

“Okay, they do know I exist.”

“And…? What’s the problem?”

“I love them.”

“And…?”

“They don’t know, or ever will.”

“Why…?”

“I’m not their type.”

“Ta!” John placed notes on the bar top as their pints arrived, then looked at Greg, “And…?”

“They have made their thoughts on such known.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “And…?”

“They are immovable.”

“Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?” John smirked.

“Figure out what?” Greg bluffed.

John said quietly after a while. “I used to think Sherlock was immovable.”

Greg gritted his teeth at the loaded statement, playing it off.

“Oh? What changed?”

“Turned out I’m irresistible. So are you, Greg.” John grinned, “May the force be with you.”

“You know it’s him, don’t you?”

“Me?” John winked, “I know nothing about Mission: Get Go Mycroft.”

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@flashfictionfridayofficial

For January 27, 2025

“It’s an art.”

The game is to write a flash fic this weekend and post it here (or with a link to the fic on AO3) on Monday with the hashtag Mystrade Monday.

Flash fiction is a complete story that is less than 1,000 words. 360mg is complete fic of 360 words with the last two beginning with “M” and “G” in any order. Please spread the word.

Hot tip: if you tag @mystradepromptsandscenarios , we’ll reblog it.

I'm not sure how I feel about this one yet but TTM Advent continues! This time Mycroft holds himself back as Greg navigates around the chill that is Mycroft's mother.

I'm not sure how I feel about this one yet but TTM Advent continues! This time Mycroft holds himself back as Greg navigates around the chill that is Mycroft's mother.