A 30 day Mystrade fic, challenge. Naturally this will be focused on Mystrade, don't like don't read. Ive picked a random thirty day list prompt from tumblr for this, but if you have any requests i can always try to work them in, the list isn't set in stone.

Realistically i know that i will not actually be able to write a fic a day for this, so i'm going to make this my 90 day challenge and will hopefully aim to upload a chapter once every three days - if that actually happens it will be a miracle but hey, i can delude myself into thinking I will upload that regularly.

Disclaimer: I wish i owned Sherlock but i don't, just playing with the toys left in the sandbox

As always, i am English which naturally means i only have a small grasp on English grammar, feel free to point out any mistakes especially as these stories may be more rushed than my normal ones.

For those of you who read A single red poppy, i havnt abandoned it ive just had a couple of exam heavy months and i needed to get back into the flow of writing again and so viola this was born. I should hopefully have the next chapter of Asrp up in a couple of days.

Day 1 - Holding hands

Gazing across the room, Greg felt a grin overtake his features as he watched Mycroft's leg jiggle up and down as he mumbled to himself. Walking into the room Greg sat next to his partner stilling his leg with a hand on his knee. "Aren't I supposed to be the nervous one?" he asked warmly.

Running his hand through his hair, in lieu of shacking his leg, Mycroft sighed, "I know my parents; you on the other hand do not Gregory."

"Fortunately I don't love you for your family, My, I met Sherlock first remember? If we were going off of that we would have never gotten together." When this garnered no reaction from the other man, Greg sighed before moving to crouch in front of him, hands now resting on both of the man's knees. "If this goes wrong, I'll still be there suffering through every family event by your side, because I love you, ok?" Greg asked looking directly into his partners eyes. When Mycroft nodded, Greg smiled "Good, now bring back the 'Croft who stares down dictators for a living, I find him incredibly sexy." Greg ordered smile morphing into a lascivious grin.

With a small blush tainting his cheekbones, Mycroft pulled himself together "You're quite right Gregory," he acknowledged opening his mouth to speak again only to be interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Immediately the nervous look returned to Mycroft's eyes as he impulsively straightened his jacket. Smiling at the man indulgently, Greg stood up pulling his partner with him, giving him a gentle push towards the door.

After the gentle encouragement, Mycroft almost painfully straightened his spine taking a few steadying breaths as he fixed what he undoubtedly believed to be a neutral expression on his face. Finally, he moved to open the door, Greg ensuring to keep himself close hoping to reassure the other man. "Mummy," he greeted immediately.

"Myc!" the greying woman responded, seemingly oblivious to her son's wince as she threw her arms around his shoulders, forcing the tall man to stoop slightly. Catching sight of Greg over her son's shoulder she immediately disentangled herself, sweeping her eyes over the DI and then back over the form of her son. Seemingly liking what she saw, the Holmes matriarch elbowed aside her eldest child, offering a hand and a smile to Greg "Victoria Holmes," she introduced herself, "And you are?"

"Greg Lestrade," the DI offered easily, taking her hand to shake.

"Lestrade, as in the Detective Inspector Lestrade willing to keep Sherlock around?" She quickly made the link.

Greg responded with a smile and a small shrug, "he does too much good, for me not too," he confessed.

Gently moving around the elder woman, the man Greg presumed to be Mycroft's father took her place in front of him, offering the DI his own hand to shake. "Even so, not many people would choose to work with him," he noted. "Siger Holmes," he introduced himself as Greg reached out to shake his hand.

"It's good to meet you both," Greg stated with another smile.

Releasing the DI's hand, Siger turned to his son pulling the younger man into a hug as he stood shocked to the side of the doorway. "Mycroft," he greeted warmly, "It's good to see you, shall we go in?"

Blinking a little, Mycroft gave his father a rather automatic looking nod and stepped away from the doorway to let his parents in. Mycroft finally seemed to have collected himself by the time everyone had quietly situated themselves opposite each other on the two couches in his living room, "tea?" he asked his parents courteously.

"No thank you, Mycroft dear," his mother waved the question away. "Are you going to tell us why you invited us to see you, even though both you and your brother deliberately avoid us whenever we are in town?" She asked, gaze drifting over Greg where he sat beside her son on the couch, directing an accusing look at her eldest as her tone turned slightly reprimanding.

Beside his partner, Greg began to grin ever so slightly as the embodiment of the British government began to shift under the weight of his mother's gaze. A grin that turned into a chuckle as Mycroft shifted to glare at him, after catching sight of the DI's expression.

Greg was still grinning as Mycroft's mother turned her slightly softer gaze on him in response to his laughter. Correctly interpreting her questioning expression, Greg grinned wider, "I've always wondered how England survived the Holmes' growing up together. I think the nation may owe you their thanks Mrs Holmes, especially considering what your sons have grown up to do for us." Greg flattered the woman, aware that not all mothers would take his first comment lightly.

"Victoria," Mrs Holmes stated firmly, before her features relaxed and she let out a soft laugh, "it certainly wasn't easy," she confided reminiscently. "Sherlock was determined to blow up the house before he reached puberty, and Mycroft got into a lot of fights as a teenager," she said with a sigh, seemingly not noticing Greg turn to his partner in blatant surprise. "They've grown up well though, if only they would find themselves partners and get me some grandchildren to dote on, then I would have nothing to complain about."

Victoria's sly expression, and the indulgent smile her husband directed at her, as she calculatingly watched both his and Mycroft's reaction to that statement, confirmed Greg's suspicions that the Holmes matriarch was not to be crossed. Greg also guessed that the elder Holmes' had a pretty good idea of why he was here. Sitting back as Mycroft uncharacteristically floundered beside him; Greg raised an eyebrow and a small cheeky smile at the eldest Mr Holmes, a sentiment that the other man returned easily, grin lighting up his features. Eventually deciding that his partner had suffered enough Greg reached over to take his hand.

Greg felt as Mycroft immediately tensed but didn't shake off his hand, across from them Mrs Holmes grinned as her husband continued to smile beside her. Running a thumb over the back of Mycroft's hand reassuringly, Greg brought their joined hands up to rest on his partner's knee, seemingly prompting Mycroft to look up and gauge his parent's reactions.

Fondly rolling her eyes at her son, Mrs Holmes was quick to admonish him, "Oh Myc stop looking like you expect your father and I to lecture you at any minute. I have no idea why you'd think that we would disapprove of you dating a man like Gregory."

Sitting forward, Greg companionly bumped his shoulder against Mycroft's "Thank you Mrs H- Victoria," he corrected himself at the woman's stern glare.

"Now that we've got that over with, I'll make us some tea," Victoria declared moving to her feet, holding up her hand as Mycroft moved to intercept her. "I'm your mother, and I am perfectly capable of doing things for myself and my family. One day I'll teach you the art of making tea dear, as it stands yours is not fit to drink once you reach the age of seventy and welcome the return of midday naps."

With that said Victoria moved towards the kitchen, pausing as she made her way past the couch where her son and his partner sat. "How long have you two been together?" she asked curiosity evident in her voice.

"Eight months," Mycroft shared somewhat stiffly, still upset over the insult to his tea making abilities Greg guessed.

Turning to properly face the men on the couch, Mrs Holmes hand came out to slap her son upside the head. "Eight months?" she questioned incredulously as her son spluttered, "You didn't think to tell us that you have been dating someone seriously for eight months?"

Lapsing into laughter at the completely bewildered look on his partners face, Greg squeezed the hand he still held in his own, watching Mycroft get lectured by his mother before she threw her hands up in disgust and continued on to the kitchen.