Lestrade walked briskly through the crowed streets, as he had in the past years, and still does. His occasion for it was not a dastardly villain, that had sprung up and stolen a priceless gem, or a mysterious murder that was impossibly committed by a bull pup. He wasn't at his wit's end because of a queer series of burglaries or a strange pattern being carved into all the park trees after a stroke of midnight, as happened last month. No, Lestrade was a his wit's end because he had "accidentally" broken a vase from his mother-in-law.
Amelia had been begging for his attention since he got home, and she was at that age where they discover a tug at the sleeve calls upon the big peoples attention. As it were, or as he explained to his fuming Kate, their little girl had tugged a bit too hard at his sleeve, while he was trying to balance the evening paper* and look at the mail. His hand let go of the paper, and...well it was an accident! And Kate had brought up how he never liked the vase anyway, and Lestrade for his part reminded her he does more in the day than sit and ponder about how he dislikes the ugly china vases her mother insists on them getting each year on their anniversary.
Perhaps mention words like "ugly" and "badly painted" and eventually "I'd find the same vase in a gypsy tent and for a better price" weren't the best choice. But he had been angry! Paperwork and irrational civilians all day, who wouldn't? But all the same they had said harsh words...and he heard poor Amelia cry as he slammed the door. Blast it he felt horrible, but not enough to whine to the nearest drunk in a pub somewhere. Only enough to find consolation in a man who put up with someone who could be as difficult and quick to anger as his Kate.
Dr. Watson of course!
Or at least he'd find advice with the man on how to make it up to Kate, and little Amy. So that's why Lestrade found himself walking briskly to 221B on an evening he'd rather be enjoying at home. He knocked and went up the steps he had trampled many a-times, and knocked. The sound of a muffled "Come in" was heard, and come in he did.
The oddest sight. The man he knew as Sherlock Holmes, was kneeling at the arm of one of the armchair, on one knee, and in the chair no doubt sat the man the Yarder had come to see. Though the good Doctor had the chair facing away from the door, and Lestrade could see the ends of a paper peek out from the ends of the chair. Holmes greeted him, in his usual booming voice, when trying to get his friend's attention. Though the Doctor did not turn, but still greeted in a friendly voice as ever, "Yes, evening Lestrade! I say what brings you here old man?"
"Ah, just thought I'd pop in. See how you lot were doing...am I-?"
"No, no, sit down Lestrade." Watson said, still not turning, but motioning with his hand for their guest to sit at the opposite chair, and asking if he wanted a drink.
"No, I'm alright." Lestrade said, noticing the dismayed expression on Holmes' face. In fact if the Yarder didn't know better, he'd say the Detective looked, ashamed? Or at least awkward? Sherlock Holmes, of all people? He could only guess the reason having to do with Watson ignoring him at his arm.
"So how are things Lestrade?" Watson asked. Holmes usually spoke...or spoke first unless in one of his "black moods", but he didn't seem to be. It was unsettling how quiet the man was. He smiled weakly at Lestrade and sat on the floor between the two chairs, legs crossed, but still looking up at the Doctor.
"Well, honestly, not too well.."
"Oh?"
"And why is that?" Watson asked.
"Well,...uh, " He stammered, what happened with these two? He continued,"Kate and I had a bit of a falling out, I accidentally knocked over a vase from her mother. And it broke."
"Oh, that's bothersome isn't it?" Watson observed. Still not moving the paper from his face.
"..." Lestrade looked at Holmes and asked seriously, "What did you do?"
Holmes opened his mouth, really about to explain when Watson answered, "Holmes? Oh he did nothing at all!"
There was obvious angry in his voice. Lestrade had seen the good Doctor angry, but this time it widened his eyes, in fear and shock. He looked at Holmes, who had the same expression and asked again, "What have you done Man?"
Holmes looked nervous and was again about to speak when Watson, again, nearly shouted, "He did nothing! Nothing at all, just thought he'd experiment with his blasted chemistry set," With this Watson finally removed the paper in front of him and revealed to both of their horror what had happened. The area of Watson's face, where there had been a beautiful sandy-blond mustache, now had only a few hairs as a reminder and the rest was a painful-looking, bright red, area of skin that looked tender to the touch.
"...and didn't even give me a warning shout before it blew up!" Watson concluded. Holmes by now had scooted closer to the Inspector, eye apologetic and pleading. Watson continued, "Oh he's been very sweet all day! Quiet as a mouse, offering to get my ties cleaned, or fetch me a copy of the strand, or my notebook to write in! You know he even ate all of his dinner today?! As if that would stop my upper lip from burning?! Or make my mustache grow back!"
Lestrade looked at the man responsible, who looked guilty in the face of Watson's shouts, and then back at the angry Doctor.
"Uh...I'll just leave you both to it...goodnight." He said, to Holmes, to Watson he said the man might want to find some sort of ointment or so.
And Lestrade left for his own home, stopping to get flowers and Kate's favorite wine, and stopping at the Toy Store and purchasing a new doll. If anything Lestrade got put of that visit, about fight with your spouse, he realized at least he never burned Kate's mustache off. And thank god she didn't have one!