Disclaimer: So these nice men in white lab coats came and told me I didn't own Sherlock or anything affiliated with Moffat. I didn't believe them so now I'm in this comfy padded white room with this cool jacket with shiny buckles on it!


Of Cake and Men

"I can assure you that James and I are no longer in contact… Yes I know he's a criminal… That was before I officially met you… That is quite ridiculous! I wouldn't use our relationship just to keep an eye on Sherlock... Please just come home, Lestrade… I understand, but please don't stay away for too long. I love you… Good bye."

Mycroft set down the mobile on his desk, leaning back to stare mournfully at it. Lestrade was feeling a bit neglected what with the major election coming up in Kenya. Still, Mycroft felt no need for him to leave home to seek refuge at two hundred and twenty-one B Baker Street. At least he had the comfort of knowing where he was and that he would be back in a few days' time.

With a groan he lifted himself up from his chair and left the study choosing to relocate to the kitchen. Heading for the fridge he stopped by a drawer to pick up a fork, he pulled out a piece of German chocolate cake, the last of the vanilla with raspberry filling being eaten by him the night before. He sat down at the counter with a slump in his normally ram rod straight back. He moodily began picking at the cake eating it bit by bit knowing that he would catch grief for it the next time he saw Sherlock, yet not giving a care at the moment. "At least I'll always have you my sweet wonderfully delicious cake."