I would give you a good and well thought-out excuse as to why this update is so late. But I'll be honest. I have none. But don't worry, I'm trying to improve on my self-motivation! Time to hit the For Dummies books.

x

There was only one option. Stay inside, lock the doors and don't even look out the window. The plan was perfect for Lestrade. Provided, of course, that he had enough food to stay in the house long enough to make Mycroft forget about him.

His stomach twisted in a knot but he ignored it. Lestrade looked around his house, ashamed that Mycroft saw it. There were empty beverage cans scattered on any table that Lestrade could find with space. Socks he had not bothered to put in the laundry basket were lying on the floor. His clock on the wall was collecting a substantial amount of dust. It was grey now but Lestrade was sure it was a pure black color when he bought it.

Now that he observed his house like this more closely, Lestrade almost didn't want to spend the entire day here. But he knew that when Mycroft wanted something, he would do whatever it took to get it. The only one more stubborn than him was his brother, a fact that Lestrade only knew too well.

His stomach growled this time and Lestrade placed his hand on it. He was a little hungry. Time to go to the fridge! His feet strode towards the kitchen and he opened up the fridge door wide...

And closed it immediately. The stench made it very clear that Lestrade had neglected to clean out his fridge for a while. And he could've sworn he saw something move in there. He shivered at the though. Maybe there was a way to lock the fridge. He suddenly didn't feel very safe in this house anymore.

A knock tapped at his front door and he went into 'OMG' mode. Was it Mycroft? What was he going to do? Lestrade stood very still, staring wide-eyed as the knockings became louder and more insistent.

"Mr. Lestrade? Are you in there?"

It was a man's voice but not Mycroft's. Lestrade released a breath he had been holding, letting his lungs drink in the sweet air.

Was he feeling a bit disappointed for some reason? No, that couldn't be it. He was just starting to get sick after smelling inside the fridge. Yes, that must be it!

"Mr Lestrade?" Knock. Knock.

The DI made his way over and opened the door. There was a chubby, red-faced man staring back at him with a notebook in his hand. The man, unsmiling, nodded his head at him.

"Alright Mr. Lestrade, everything's all set. You probably should leave now."

Pause. Lestrade stared at the man in silence for so long that the guy faked a cough just to break it.

"Mr. Lestrade. We can't reconstruct your house if you are...you know...in the house. Go...somewhere else please."

"What? Who said anything about reconstructing my..." he didn't have to finish the sentence before the answer appeared in his head.

The red-faced man looked at him curiously. He pulled a piece of paper out of his overly large pocket and showed it to the DI.

"This is your signature, right?"

The penmanship was a perfect copy of Letsrade's, right down to the way he curved his r's. Lestrade couldn't believe that Mycroft would actually sign or get someone to illegally sign someone else's own name and evict Lestrade from his own home, just because they were breaking up.

And by couldn't believe he meant that he could believe it very easily and wondered why he hadn't thought of this as a possibility sooner.

The man faked another cough.

"Alright, now we really have to start working. Good day, Mr. Lestrade."

The man made his impatience very clear when he scooted the DI out of the way. Soon following the example were dozens of workers in those tacky hard helmets. They were carrying saws, hammers, tiles, and a deck of cards for when they were on break.

Soon they were surrounding the place and any hope Lestrade may have had of returning anytime soon vanished. He looked like an abandoned puppy, all alone out in the sidewalk. The sound of a car driving up to him snapped him out of his daze. The driver walked out of the limousine and handed Lestrade an envelope. Lestrade didn't question as he ripped it open.

Dearest Gregory,

The reconstruction won't be done for a few days, I'm afraid. But I must tell you that a few days is very quick for reconstruction, especially for such an interesting piece of work as your house. I understand if you don't want to stay with me while you wait, so I have a room set up for you at the inn across from our favorite eating establishment. I have the exact address enclosed with the letter just in case.

I must ask you to take it easy today. The inn has many aspects to it that will provide you with entertainment. If you could stay there and wait until I'm finished with some errands we can meet this evening and hopefully spend time together like I had originally planned. I must insist now, Gregory, that you do this. It would make things so much easier.

See you soon

With Love

Mycroft

The driver had opened the backdoor for Lestrade, waiting to see what the other man would do. Lestrade inhaled sharply, trying to steady his nerves. Mycroft was really starting to get him worked up. Did he not take Lestrade seriously at all? We'll the man could just fly far away with that umbrella of his for all he cared. You know, like Mary Poppins.

Lestrade angrily stuffed the letter in his pocket and walked away without looking at the driver. The driver nodded and drove away. Lestrade figured he could find a cheap place to spend the night while he quietly fumed over how terrible a person his lover was.

...Um..his ex-lover. Yeah, that's what he meant.