“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure to meet you before, miss...?”
“Mrs. Lestrade.” Susan was quite taken aback by the smile the new secretary fired off at her. For the past day she had noted his presence as he had swayed around the office with great self-assurance, and now just as she had prepared to leave he had suddenly been in front of her desk. His grin had not faded for even a second when she had made clear that she was married, but it didn’t seem to bother him, at all. In fact she Susan could have sworn that his eyes had even sparkled.
“I presume you are the new secretary,” she stated, blushing a little since it was rather obvious that he was. After all she had been aware how well he looked carrying staplers and papers around the office. She was living by the motto that looking couldn’t do any harm, even if you were married. “Smith, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Although do call me Charlie.” His grin still had not disappeared as he extended his hand for her to shake it. “I was just about to ask you to join me for lunch, but you’re obviously leaving...”
“Oh, Charlie, that’s really sweet of you but I’ve already eaten...” .
“It’s alright, we can go some other time,” Charlie laughed and winked at her. It struck her that he looked like a mix between an underwear model and the poster boy for an advertising agency.
Unconsciously Susan adjusted her hair, reluctantly flattered by the younger man’s behaviour. It wasn’t every day that someone who was at least ten years her junior flirted with her. Still, she had to get home and clean the flat before Greg got home, no matter how sweet the new boy at the office was.
“It’s was lovely to meet you, but I’m afraid I have to go,” she said with a smile of her own, which lacked the glistening effect Charlie’s grins had. His smile reminded her of the way Greg used to flash his smiles at her when they were younger, just after he had scored a goal on the field and waved at her on the bleacher. She blushed again as she was filled with warmth of the memory of having been so proud over her boyfriend, the best scorer in the whole football team.
Charlie must have taken interpreted her reddening cheeks as a sign for him to advance, for he fumbled with his hand in his pocket only to hand her his card. “If you would need help with anything, Mrs. Lestrade. Or if you would want me to take you out for some coffee this evening,” he murmured and locked her gaze, before swiftly turning on his heels.
Susan smirked and put the card in the inner pocket of her coat as she watched Charlie leave her room, careful not to glance down when he wiggled his arse. The fact that she sounded way more middle-aged than she was by considering herself very content with quiet evening in with her husband didn’t really bother her at all. Why be adventurous when she already had the most perfect man by her side already?
Susan was surprised to find Greg’s coat hanging in the hallway when she got home. She always finished early on Fridays, and the policeman always came home late since he had to finish off the week’s paperwork before leaving for the weekend.
The lights were out and the silence felt strangely unfamiliar now that she knew Greg was home. Always when her husband was in their flat there was sounds, mostly coming from the living room where he usually was slouching on the sofa while listening to his old punk records.
Perhaps he was asleep, she pondered and quietly made her way to their bedroom. Work might have gotten the better of him for once, but she was still to see the day when Gregory Lestrade fell asleep before twelve.
Going by the sounds coming from the half-closed door it seemed like that day was yet to come.
There were unmistakable grunts and pants coming from the bedroom, mixed with the slick sound of a palm working on a hard member. He must actually quite close, judging by the speed and the intensity of his moans. Susan slowly approached the room, making sure to not let her husband notice her, and she was close to giggling. She had caught her husband masturbating an uncountable number of times during the years. In fact she had to admit she was somehow turned on by the thought of her husband getting home early, presuming that his wife wouldn’t come home home until later and therefore deciding to have a wank. But she was about to change that by offering a hand herself.
She was just about to grab the handle of the door and enter the room when she heard Greg mumbling something audible that wasn’t just simple grunts or the names of a certain crucified prophet and his holy father.
“Oh, fuck- Myc- Mycroft!”
Frozen on the spot, Susan took a long breath and then shook her head. She was probably mistaken. Without hesitation she quickly suppressed the fact that Greg had a handful of times the past week mentioned a government official by the name of Mycroft Holmes. Greg had complained about how arrogant he was all the time, some suit-clad bureaucrat who couldn’t mind his own business. Of course he didn’t fancy him! The thought was just absurd.
“Mycroft! God yes- ah- Mycroft!”
After that the jerking sounds stopped, and the only thing that could be heard was Greg’s heavy breathing, soon followed by the rustle of paper tissues. Slowly Susan turned away from the door, her eyes widened in terror as she quietly went back to the hallway. Without much success she tried to do something about her dry throat by swallowing multiple times. She didn’t care about why this Mycroft was suddenly the subject of her husband’s imagination while he was masturbating - it was the undeniable fact that it wasn’t her that he was imagining that was the problem. Her dreams of building a family and a home with Greg were suddenly shattered.
She put her coat back on, and was about to leave the flat when she noticed a small piece of white paper poking out from the inner pocket. She picked up Charlie’s business card, stopping to look at it for a second before she made up her mind.
The sounds from the creaking water boiler vibrated through the walls of their old flat as Greg must have made his way into the showers. In the meantime Susan left their home, careful to not make a sound as she closed the door. Her phone was already in her hand, her fingers quickly tapping down the number keys.
Perhaps Charlie could take her out for some coffee this evening after all.