Hey! This one-shot is inspired by a post on tumblr - valkyrie-of-the-dead . tumblr post/71997349717 (without the spaces)
SPOILER-ALERT: Only the end of this story contains a part of TEH, even though in the episode it is only a matter of seconds. Dont read further if you don't want tobe spoiled.
I don't whether anyone has seen that post and written something like that as well, but everything besides the post is my own, and not copied (even though Valkyrie-of-the-Dead, that is me)
"Those things will kill you,"
The young man looks up at him, his pupils bigger than natural, but not overly so. Cocaine has that effect, muses Greg, sometimes you don't even notice that the pupils are too big, but the needle in the hand of the junkie tells everything. The tip is in the man's vein, and he smirks slowly as he pushes the plunger down slowly.
"So will the cigarettes you've been smoking today, Sergeant."
Greg raises his eyebrows at that, the deep baritone is still perfectly steady for someone who just had a hit. He looks the man over once more and frowns. The guy can't be more than twenty-six, and according to the marks on his arms he has been using for two years already.
"How did you know?" Greg knows he should just arrest him and get him to the yard, it's his first really big case in the narcotics-division with him in charge, it might give him the reputation he knows he needs.
"I didn't know, I saw. Your fingernails show signs of a smoker, not a heavy one, no, but a smoker none the less. Your pack and lighter are still in your pocket, and judging by their position, you took them out not long ago. You are not showing any signs of needing a cigarette, conclusion, you had some today. The badge on your jacket shows New Scotland Yard, age and behaviour suggest sergeant."
Again, Greg can only raise his eyebrows. How did this guy do that?
"I can tell you about your case. About the drug ring you have been searching, the notes are probably in your pocket, put them in your jacket, you'll lose them otherwise when you are searching for your keys. Besides, you have been muttering and thinking about it when you walked."
Greg frowns once again, and looks at the man who is sitting in that grimy corner, shooting up, at least the second time today, despite his articulation, eloquence and accent.
"What's your name?"
He doesn't know why he is asking, because he needs the information for the yard, he tells himself. He knows he is lying to himself.
"Sherlock Holmes."
"Gregory Lestrade. Well then, what have you got?"
Sherlock Holmes breathes in and starts talking.
Greg sighs loudly and pulls out the cigarettes and a lighter. He is trying to stop, once again, but after this case – he just needs one. Looking around once, being in a dark parking-lot and hearing steps isn't that great, he puts the first between his lips and raises the lighter, flipping it on.
"Those things will kill you,"
The voice is familiar, so familiar, and Greg can't stop the curse that passes his lips. He doesn't even doubt that it is Sherlock Holmes, no-one else could know these exact words and their meaning.
"It was time to come back."
Sherlock says, and now Greg sees him, walking towards him from the shadows. He raises his arms, and isn't sure what Sherlock was expecting, but wraps him in a tight, almost desperate hug.
He remembers that first case with Sherlock, with the drug ring, and the relief that Sherlock is alive masks the anger that he was dead for two years.
Greg can nearly see Sherlock smiling tightly, a bit uncomfortably, but he knows that Sherlock doesn't despise hugs as he claims to do. Claimed to do? Whatever.
The detective inspector smiles and holds on for another second, then lets go.
He can see the smirk on the detective's lips and knows that there is a deduction coming.
"Well then, what have you got?" He asks, consciously repeating the words from so long ago.
Sherlock Holmes breathes in and starts talking.
What did you think? Review please!