Please forgive this piece of silliness - it came to me on the flight home from visiting my good friend (and even better writer) MapleleafCameo. While the relevance of the names may mean little to anyone but she and I (oh, and my daughter SM2) I hope there is enough humour in this to make the reading of it worth while :-D

Detective Inspector Toe-Beans? Was that really what Sherlock had called him? Greg shook his head and picked up the consulting genius's arrest sheet.

"Sally, tell me again where you picked him up." He sighed in frustration.

"Outside that new pub on Midland Road, the Hobbit Arms." Sally sneered. "Bloody stupid name for a pub."

"Not if you're a fan of Tolkien." John's voice reached them from the outer office. "Your call said it was important?"

"Sherlock's as drunk as a skunk in one of our interview rooms."

"What? Why?"

"You tell me." Greg shrugged

"He was supposed to be meeting one of his homeless network to get some information about a possible consignment of contaminated hash that appears to have hit the streets - said DI Gregson had asked if he could find anything for him, and also that his brother had warned him off trying, always guaranteed to make him want to do it anyway."

"So he could be stoned?" There was an eagerness to Sally's voice that grated on both men. John shook his head.

"Could you smell alcohol on him?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Then that's what he's had. Sherlock, for all his faults, is not a casual drug user – never has been – and cannabis is hardly likely to improve the clarity of his mind. However, he was bored, and no doubt thought having one over the eight would be a good idea on an empty stomach."

Sally's mouth opened, but the DI waved her to silence as he looked bemusedly at John.

"Does he always get that.. that.. weird? When he's drunk, I mean."

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at the floor.

"What did he do?"

"He gave me a lecture about how wrong I had been to let Oakenbrain fight the Wargs, because the idiot brought their queen bitch home with him, then he called me Toe-Beans"

"Toe-Beans?"

"Detective Inspector Toe-Beans." Greg didn't appreciate the grin that broke out across John's face. "What now?"

"Um…" John tried not to chuckle, his gaze flicking briefly to Sally then away again. "A word in private Greg?"

Miffed, Sally stomped out and slammed the door. Greg looked expectantly at John.

"We've been watching the last Hobbit film, and as usual he's assigned various characters to people he knows." John waited for the penny to drop.

And as understanding dawned on the older man's face he too grinned.

"Okay, so Oakenbrain is Anderson? That explains the Bitch comment." He shook his head "But I've seen the film, who the hell is Toe-Beans?"

"The writer – don't ask, something to do with cats, or so he said." A stifled giggle escaped.

Greg looked intrigued.

"Wait 'til he sobers up and ask him – I just want to see his face as he tries to explain that in his best 'I'm far above humanity' voice."

"Nah, c'mon – tell me."

"Uh-huh, Get him to – it will serve him right for calling us all names."

"All of us?"

"His brother's Gandolf the Government, Mrs Hudson's Bella-Pasta Cook…."

Greg spluttered a laugh.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the only one he hasn't messed around with, unfortunately." John sobered slightly. "He calls me Bilbo Baggins…"

Greg guffawed, loud and heartily, until John leaned a little closer and added

"If you find that funny, you might also like to know that he only calls me Bilbo when we've been watching Hobbit movies – he calls you Toe-Beans all the time!"

A/N: Just in case you've not crossed paths with the saying before, 'one over the eight' just means one drink too many...