Sherlock: I'm in the Mood (Mycroft/Lestrade)
Title: I'm in the Mood
Rating: PG
Synopsis: When John & co take Mrs Hudson dancing, they weren't expecting to bump into Mycroft Holmes.
From this prompt: Mycroft is a busy man. A very busy man. So when he gets some spare time he likes to relax and let his hair down. He likes to swing dance. And he's rather good at it.
It all started with Strictly Come Dancing.
"Oh, isn't it lovely, Dr Watson? Really takes me back to when I was a girl." Mrs Hudson said, sipping her glass of wine.
"You were a dancer?"
"Oh, no. No, my Billy used to take me down to the Colchester Hall every Friday." Getting up, she took a photo album off the bookcase. "I'd do my hair, bit of make-up, put on my best frock and we'd dance the night away. All the women in their best frock, the boys done up the nines, oh how young we all were." She stroked a photograph softly.
John passed her his handkerchief and gently slipped his arm round her shoulders.
----
"Fine, Sherlock, you don't have to come." John sighed, picking up his keys. He felt a bit ridiculous in his suit and wasn't in the mood to fight with Sherlock. "I just thought we could do something nice for her."
Sherlock plucked moodily at his violin. "Okay, last chance, Lestrade will here in a few minutes."
"Oh, you do look smart." John turned to see his landlady smiling nervously in the doorway.
"Mrs Hudson," he grinned, "you look twenty years younger."
Blushing, she patted her hair "ooh you charmer. It's all down to Molly, she really is a lovely girl."
Molly grinned, "I've had a lot of practice. Not on corpses." She quickly added. "Sorry."
The doorbell rang and Mrs Hudson excused herself.
"Sherlock's not coming?"
"No. He's in a mood."
"I am not in a mood." He pushed himself off his chair and flounced off to his room.
"It speaks!"
John was spared a reply by the return of Mrs Hudson, accompanied by Lestrade, looking devilishly handsome in a dark suit and deep purple shirt, open at the collar. "You do look quite the gentleman, Detective Inspector." She giggled.
"Greg, please." He shifted slightly, "I've been told I scrub up well."
"You look good." John said grinning, "hoping to pull?'
Sherlock suddenly swept into the room, dressed in a sharp grey suit, black shirt and red tie. "Ready?" He asked, oblivious to the slightly stunned looks.
----
John paid the entry fee and escorted Mrs Hudson into the main hall, Lestrade hooked his arm through Molly's and Sherlock disappeared to the bar.
Several couples were on the dance floor dancing to an energetic live swing band, John watched appreciatvly.
"Ooh, aren't they good!" Mrs Hudson clutched John's arm. "Look at those two," she pointed to a vaguely familiar woman in a beautiful form fitting red dress dancing with a tall man, exquisitly turned out in a dark blue waistcoat, black fedora, black trousers and white shirt that even from a distance John knew was worth more than any suit he'd ever bought.
"He's really good." Lestrade breathed, not able to take his eyes of the man.
"Reminds of someone." Molly mused.
"Drinks." Sherlock held out the tray, but everyone was to distracted to compliment him on (a) buying the drinks and (b) knowing what to get everyone.
Not amused, Sherlock followed their eye line. He watched as the man dipped his partner through his legs and over his shoulders, knocking his hat off...
"Mycroft?!" Sherlock gasped, echoing everyones stunned realisation, loud enough to distract the couple.
Mycroft looked up sharply, "oh...hello, Sherlock," he looked slightly embarrassed, "...everyone."
Striding over, Sherlock stared at his brother, "what are you doing?!"
"I'd have thought that it was obvious." He raised an eyebrow as his younger brother snorted. They engaged in some sort of silent eyebrow warfare before Sherlock glared at his brother and stomped off back to the bar.
"Well, I thought you were marvelous, dear." Mrs Hudson reached up to kiss his cheek. Mycroft blushed.
If Lestrade had been distracted before by the sight of Mycroft Holmes swing dancing, seeing the man blush adorably practically knocked him out.
"Mycroft, let me buy you a drink, what are you having?" He said, finding his voice.
"A vodka and coke, please...Greg."
"Coming right up." Mycroft found himself watching the Inspectors behind as he walked away, unaware that four people were grinning at him.
----
"So...why swing dancing?" Lestrade said handing a drink to Mycroft, leaning back against the bar.
"I used to tap dance."
"...but you kept falling in the sink?"
They exchanged looks before breaking into very unmanly giggles.
"So, you're a regular Gene Kelly, eh?"
Mycroft put his hand on his heart with mock offence. "Fred Astaire, please Greg." He grinned, "Anthea," he indicated his assistant who was trying to teach Mrs Hudson and Molly a few basics, "suggested I join her for a few classes and well..." He shrugged. "It's an excellent way to lose weight."
"It's working, looking good, Holmes." Lestrade openly appraised him and whistled. Mycroft blushed again. "Don't tell Sherlock but I did ballet for two years at uni."
"Ballet?"
"Yeah. Hurt my knee playing rugby, physio suggested it."
"Do you still...?" He swallowed his words, the idea of Greg Lestrade leaping around in tights was doing funny things to his blood pressure.
"Nah, which is a pity 'cos those tights did wonders for my arse." Mycroft choked on his drink and grabbed his handkerchief. Grinning, Lestrade scooped up Mycroft's fedora placed it jauntily on his head and offered his arm, "come on, why don't you teach me some of those moves?"
----
It had been a pretty successful night, John mused over his pint.
Mrs Hudson seemed to be having a wonderful time, even attracting a few admirers! Despite Sherlock's claim to the contrary, he was clearly having a good time dancing with their landlady. John had even managed a to snag a dance with Anthea before she and Molly vanished.
He was pretty sure that Mycroft's 'teaching' was really just an excuse to feel up the Inspector, but Lestrade didn't seem to be objecting. Quite the opposite, in fact. John grinned at them, Lestrade was a quick learner and he found himself resisting the urge to film the good inspector and the British government but instead settled for filming Sherlock dancing energetically with Mrs Hudson.
At the end of the evening they wobbled out of the hall, all exhausted and quite merry. As they said their goodbyes, Mycroft was clearly trying to work out if it would be appropriate to kiss Lestrade and Lestrade was obviously trying to work out if he could get away with kissing Mycroft. They settled for an awkward handshake.
Mrs Hudson placed a hand on Mycroft's sleeve: "Kiss him, dearie. We'll keep Sherlock occupied."
So whilst Mrs Hudson and John distracted Sherlock, Mycroft nervously kissed Lestrade.
"Have dinner with me." Lestrade said, once they broke for air.
"Detec-- Greg...I..."
"Or we could skip dinner and go straight to fucking. I know which I'd rather do." He grinned mischievously and Mrs Hudson pushed a packet of condoms into Mycroft's hand. They stared at her, she winked.
Rating: PG
Synopsis: When John & co take Mrs Hudson dancing, they weren't expecting to bump into Mycroft Holmes.
From this prompt: Mycroft is a busy man. A very busy man. So when he gets some spare time he likes to relax and let his hair down. He likes to swing dance. And he's rather good at it.
It all started with Strictly Come Dancing.
"Oh, isn't it lovely, Dr Watson? Really takes me back to when I was a girl." Mrs Hudson said, sipping her glass of wine.
"You were a dancer?"
"Oh, no. No, my Billy used to take me down to the Colchester Hall every Friday." Getting up, she took a photo album off the bookcase. "I'd do my hair, bit of make-up, put on my best frock and we'd dance the night away. All the women in their best frock, the boys done up the nines, oh how young we all were." She stroked a photograph softly.
John passed her his handkerchief and gently slipped his arm round her shoulders.
----
"Fine, Sherlock, you don't have to come." John sighed, picking up his keys. He felt a bit ridiculous in his suit and wasn't in the mood to fight with Sherlock. "I just thought we could do something nice for her."
Sherlock plucked moodily at his violin. "Okay, last chance, Lestrade will here in a few minutes."
"Oh, you do look smart." John turned to see his landlady smiling nervously in the doorway.
"Mrs Hudson," he grinned, "you look twenty years younger."
Blushing, she patted her hair "ooh you charmer. It's all down to Molly, she really is a lovely girl."
Molly grinned, "I've had a lot of practice. Not on corpses." She quickly added. "Sorry."
The doorbell rang and Mrs Hudson excused herself.
"Sherlock's not coming?"
"No. He's in a mood."
"I am not in a mood." He pushed himself off his chair and flounced off to his room.
"It speaks!"
John was spared a reply by the return of Mrs Hudson, accompanied by Lestrade, looking devilishly handsome in a dark suit and deep purple shirt, open at the collar. "You do look quite the gentleman, Detective Inspector." She giggled.
"Greg, please." He shifted slightly, "I've been told I scrub up well."
"You look good." John said grinning, "hoping to pull?'
Sherlock suddenly swept into the room, dressed in a sharp grey suit, black shirt and red tie. "Ready?" He asked, oblivious to the slightly stunned looks.
----
John paid the entry fee and escorted Mrs Hudson into the main hall, Lestrade hooked his arm through Molly's and Sherlock disappeared to the bar.
Several couples were on the dance floor dancing to an energetic live swing band, John watched appreciatvly.
"Ooh, aren't they good!" Mrs Hudson clutched John's arm. "Look at those two," she pointed to a vaguely familiar woman in a beautiful form fitting red dress dancing with a tall man, exquisitly turned out in a dark blue waistcoat, black fedora, black trousers and white shirt that even from a distance John knew was worth more than any suit he'd ever bought.
"He's really good." Lestrade breathed, not able to take his eyes of the man.
"Reminds of someone." Molly mused.
"Drinks." Sherlock held out the tray, but everyone was to distracted to compliment him on (a) buying the drinks and (b) knowing what to get everyone.
Not amused, Sherlock followed their eye line. He watched as the man dipped his partner through his legs and over his shoulders, knocking his hat off...
"Mycroft?!" Sherlock gasped, echoing everyones stunned realisation, loud enough to distract the couple.
Mycroft looked up sharply, "oh...hello, Sherlock," he looked slightly embarrassed, "...everyone."
Striding over, Sherlock stared at his brother, "what are you doing?!"
"I'd have thought that it was obvious." He raised an eyebrow as his younger brother snorted. They engaged in some sort of silent eyebrow warfare before Sherlock glared at his brother and stomped off back to the bar.
"Well, I thought you were marvelous, dear." Mrs Hudson reached up to kiss his cheek. Mycroft blushed.
If Lestrade had been distracted before by the sight of Mycroft Holmes swing dancing, seeing the man blush adorably practically knocked him out.
"Mycroft, let me buy you a drink, what are you having?" He said, finding his voice.
"A vodka and coke, please...Greg."
"Coming right up." Mycroft found himself watching the Inspectors behind as he walked away, unaware that four people were grinning at him.
----
"So...why swing dancing?" Lestrade said handing a drink to Mycroft, leaning back against the bar.
"I used to tap dance."
"...but you kept falling in the sink?"
They exchanged looks before breaking into very unmanly giggles.
"So, you're a regular Gene Kelly, eh?"
Mycroft put his hand on his heart with mock offence. "Fred Astaire, please Greg." He grinned, "Anthea," he indicated his assistant who was trying to teach Mrs Hudson and Molly a few basics, "suggested I join her for a few classes and well..." He shrugged. "It's an excellent way to lose weight."
"It's working, looking good, Holmes." Lestrade openly appraised him and whistled. Mycroft blushed again. "Don't tell Sherlock but I did ballet for two years at uni."
"Ballet?"
"Yeah. Hurt my knee playing rugby, physio suggested it."
"Do you still...?" He swallowed his words, the idea of Greg Lestrade leaping around in tights was doing funny things to his blood pressure.
"Nah, which is a pity 'cos those tights did wonders for my arse." Mycroft choked on his drink and grabbed his handkerchief. Grinning, Lestrade scooped up Mycroft's fedora placed it jauntily on his head and offered his arm, "come on, why don't you teach me some of those moves?"
----
It had been a pretty successful night, John mused over his pint.
Mrs Hudson seemed to be having a wonderful time, even attracting a few admirers! Despite Sherlock's claim to the contrary, he was clearly having a good time dancing with their landlady. John had even managed a to snag a dance with Anthea before she and Molly vanished.
He was pretty sure that Mycroft's 'teaching' was really just an excuse to feel up the Inspector, but Lestrade didn't seem to be objecting. Quite the opposite, in fact. John grinned at them, Lestrade was a quick learner and he found himself resisting the urge to film the good inspector and the British government but instead settled for filming Sherlock dancing energetically with Mrs Hudson.
At the end of the evening they wobbled out of the hall, all exhausted and quite merry. As they said their goodbyes, Mycroft was clearly trying to work out if it would be appropriate to kiss Lestrade and Lestrade was obviously trying to work out if he could get away with kissing Mycroft. They settled for an awkward handshake.
Mrs Hudson placed a hand on Mycroft's sleeve: "Kiss him, dearie. We'll keep Sherlock occupied."
So whilst Mrs Hudson and John distracted Sherlock, Mycroft nervously kissed Lestrade.
"Have dinner with me." Lestrade said, once they broke for air.
"Detec-- Greg...I..."
"Or we could skip dinner and go straight to fucking. I know which I'd rather do." He grinned mischievously and Mrs Hudson pushed a packet of condoms into Mycroft's hand. They stared at her, she winked.