Work Text:
Originally posted on The Blanket Fort - Darth Stitch on Tumblr
Shakespeare in Love
“Stop it.”
A giggle. “I can’t help it. I mean, honestly, Mycroft. Greg?”
Yes, that was definitely the first signs of a rosy blush all over on one Mycroft Holmes. And then, there was a mumble, in what John Watson had now patented as the Holmesian Verbal Keyboard Smash.
John giggled all the more. Considering things, he was rather an expert in deciphering the complexities of the Holmesian Verbal Keyboard Smash. “You think he’s dishy and adorable?”
“Shut it!”
“Well, now that you’ve said it, Greg is pretty dishy. The Met’s Resident Heartthrob for the past several years, to hear Sally tell it.” John grinned. “Oh, don’t worry, Mycroft - I’m arse over teakettle for your brother and you know it.”
There was a frosty glare, one that heralded promises of mysterious disappearances and waking up in hostile countries to unknown fates. It was a surprisingly effective facial expression about 99.9% of the time. “This is all terribly cliche, my dear doctor. Must you engage in that time-honored tradition of matchmaking all your family and friends whilst being happily matched yourself?”
Naturally, John Watson was immune to that glare. “It’s part of the perks, Mycroft.” He patted his pocket. “Got the manual right here and everything.”
Mycroft indulged in that rarest of gestures - one that could only be brought about by a certain obnoxious younger brother and one devious Army doctor. He facepalmed. “Oh God.”
“Well if this works, you’ll be directing that at Greg and in under better circumstances.” The little, jumper-wearing bastard had the utter indecency to look perfectly angelic while he made the inevitable innuendo.
“Oh God.”
“Also, my parents were married when I was born, thanks very much,” John murmured.
Mycroft stared.
“What? One can’t live with the World’s Only Consulting Detective for so long and not pick up on a few things.” John patted Mycroft on the arm consolingly. “It’s all right, Mycroft. I have it on good authority that Greg Lestrade likes you too.”
****
He’s fought and he’s fallen
He’s on his knees before he’s on his feet
A sinister romantic
Oh, he’s about to be and she’s about to see
Teachin’ torches to burn bright
She’s hanging on the cheek of night
A snowy dove trooping with crows
He never saw true beauty till tonight
She’ll take him to the brink of deliverance
Show him that much
Oh, don’t you know it
Oh, don’t you know it
So he falls in love to feel that he’s falling
She’ll let him know his heart
Oh, don’t you know it
Oh, don’t you know it
That’s Shakespeare in love
- “Shakespeare in Love,” Layla Kayliff, Gregory Fitzgerald
