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Summary
This fic is my response to the question,"What would Mycroft Holmes do to rescue Greg Lestrade from the very determined arms of Death?"
The answer's obvious, isn't it? He'd do anything. Anything at all.
Hence, this is a time-loop fic in which Mycroft is jet-lagged, Eurus is creepy, Greg is quite wonderful until he dies (repeatedly, but also temporarily), Anthea is confused but supportive, the Prime Minister is kind, Sherlock and John are helpful (sort of), it rains an awful lot, Mycroft’s coat is very clean, and tomorrow is a new day.
Until it isn’t.
