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The first time Greg noticed the flash car at the crime scene, he observed that Sherlock had seen it as well. The eye roll was a dead giveaway.
"Who's that then?" he asked, as a long, finely shod leg emerged from the back door.
"Nobody," snarled Sherlock, from behind gritted teeth.
"Well, nobody looks right fit in that suit."
Sherlock narrowed his eyes at Lestrade before grimacing and swirling away. The well-dressed man, seeing him run, got back in the car, and it drove away.
"I'll have to remember that, next time he's being a prat," Greg thought to himself.
Greg's mobile rang, but the caller ID was blank.
"Hmmm. Nobody's trying to get in touch." Donovan entered his office, waving a case file, so Greg put the phone away and listened to his sergeant.
Months later, Greg had Sherlock cornered in his office, trying his best to get enough information out of him for the paperwork. His mobile, sitting on the corner of the desk, had been left within reach, and when it rang, Sherlock snatched it up, eager for any distraction.
"Who's there?" he demanded.
The voice said, "No one," and hung up.
"Don't answer my phone!" Greg yelped, grabbing it from his hand. "Who was it?"
"Someone attempting a bad American accent. You need a better secretary."
"You up for the job, sunshine? Not all of us have a blogger to screen our calls. Now tell me again how you knew the ladder was green."
Greg was briefing his team when his mobile rang.
"You need to get that, boss?"
Greg looked down at the blank screen and grinned. "Nah, nobody's after me."
Donovan noticed the glint in his eye. "Wish nobody made me smile like that."
Sherlock snapped his fingers, rudely, in front of Lestrade's face. "Why are you distracted? What else are you thinking about?"
"Nobody important."
"Donovan, how did we miss the brother-in-law's connections to those robberies?"
"Well, nobody's perfect, sir."
"That's true enough."
Greg's mobile rang. He snapped it up and gestured her out of his office. As she left, grateful for missing out on the lecture, she heard him say, "Well if it isn't Mr. Nemo." Odd, that her boss was talking about a cartoon fish.
At the pub, clinking glasses with John, before the smaller man began ranting about how Mycroft had stopped by the flat. How annoying it was that he loved to show off what he knew. How superior he acted. How overdressed he was.
"Gonna stop you there. Far as I'm concerned, mate, nobody does it better."
"You really like the way Mycroft looks?" John sputtered into his pint.
"Yeah, I do. And you don't want to hear it, but you're complaining about the same things Donovan says about Sherlock. You sure you got the right Holmes?"
John sat silent.
"Just sayin', there's a thing called displacement. I know it's easy to blame Mycroft for what annoys you about Sherlock, but 's not healthy. Think about it. Anyway, who'dya like for the match?"
John grasped at the welcome change of subject and they talked football and drank.
Donovan finally confronted Greg. "Not sure I want to know, but are you dating Holmes?"
"Which one?" He grinned at her.
"There's two?"
"Yup. And it's not the one that looks like an insect."
"Wait, which one is that?"
"You're a detective, you figure it out."
The car conveniently pulled up. The door opened before it completely stopped, and Sherlock rushed out. Then an umbrella, followed by Mycroft emerged.
"Hey, you," Greg smiled in his direction. "Just telling Donovan here how lucky I am to know the civilized, better-looking Holmes."
Mycroft ducked his head as Greg put his arm around his waist, looking at the officer fondly from under his eyelashes. Before he could respond to Greg's compliment, Sherlock came storming back.
"How long have you been engaging in relations with my brother, Lestrade? I thought you would have better taste."
"Knock it off. You don't get to be rude because it took you months to figure it out. Go do some deducing for John. He always makes you feel better when you've missed something. "
"Missed something?!? Nobody's smarter than I am."
"He sure is. And he's somebody special to me. Now head off unless you want to watch me greet your brother properly."
Greg didn't wait to watch him go, turning all his attention to Mycroft. He gently stroked his cheek, with the barest hint of a becoming flush, embarrassed by Greg's praise. "Hey, Cap'n, wanna go watch some submarine races?"
Mycroft made a moue of disapproval. "Where do you come up with these ridiculous sayings?"
"Aw, come on, you love wordplay. Said that was the fourth best thing you liked about me, that I 'could be clever given proper motivation'."
The blush intensified. "Forgive me, that does sound quite rude."
Greg leaned forward and unexpectedly rubbed noses with his partner. "Part of the Holmes charm, that is. Now, my dear darling nobody, we can stay here and scandalize your brother some more, or we can go home and have dinner. Both are fun, but one is more nourishing."
"As you wish, my dear." Mycroft opened the car door. "After you."
Greg slid in, humming "Nobody Does It Better" to himself.