The fact that at one point Mycroft was standing in an office printing numerous sexual pictures of Irene Adler never fails to amuse me.
Sherlock AU - Remember
└ By some miracle Jim Moriarty survives the shot to the head. He wakes up in hospital only to suffer from amnesia. In the care of Sebastian Moran, Jim’s memory begins to return but will he want to go back to being Moriarty again?
The day the angels fell.
asked by anon.
this is the best post ever okay
oh shit this is brilliant
this gives me chills
That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen…
Summary: AU. Upon becoming a Prime Minister Gregory Lestrade expected not to be told what to do anymore. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Mycroft/Lestrade.
A/N: This is an AU. Mycroft is still the Mycroft Holmes we know, Greg, on the other hand, still being the man we are all familiar with, occupies a much more interesting position.
I have only some knowledge how British government works, all of it came from a couple of episodes of Doctor Who and a tv show Secret State, which actually is an inspiration behind this story. I hope I didn’t mess it up too badly.
Also in this universe Mycroft’s plan with the plane was successful.
Brit-picking: Riverdancer17(on ff.net). I am very grateful for all the help with my story.
This is only the beginning…
It had been a difficult fight. Hard work, long hours of planning. Only getting home in the early hours of the morning, or not going to his flat at all, instead staying in the office, one day of work slowly merging into another. It had been worth it though; everything, missed family holidays and practically nonexistent personal life, had been worth this one moment.
The doors of his new office had closed behind him as he stepped over the threshold, leaving all the noise and people outside, giving him a moment of peace in what was going to be one hell of a life. Everything had changed, but not really. The same lonely sleepless nights awaited him but now he would have a satisfaction of knowing that he had made it – he had reached the top. He would be forever content in that feeling.
He breathed in slowly, the air filling his lungs, and let in out a sigh that turned his lips into a smile. This was it. The moment he had waited for his whole life, this was what he was always striving for. He got it. He made it.
With a smile he crossed the office and sat down behind a large desk.
Gregory Lestrade. Prime Minister of Great Britain.
It was only a couple of days later that his careful mental balance was broken.
It was late, sometime after eleven p.m., and Greg had already been considering going home. The day had been an easy one, nothing major warranting his immediate attention, but he still worked late, somewhat happy to stay in the office. It gave him confidence and even happiness, this constant reminder that he was worth it, that he had been elected to this position.
There was a soft knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer a person on the other side carefully slid it open and soundlessly stepped inside. Greg tensed. There were no visitors scheduled but the security had let this man pass without any question. Well, that only meant that the questions were left for him to ask.
“Who are you?” Greg did not raise his voice.