A/N: Hi there, this is a 5 + 1 format, the five times Sherlock almost discovered Mystrade and the one time he did. I haven't read a Sherlock discovering Mystrade in this particular format before but I'm sure that they would exist out there, hopefully these will be different enough from anything else anyone has done!

Disclaimer: All belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the team behind Sherlock.

John and Sherlock had received the call at around eleven pm and within twenty minutes they were down at the crime scene. The consulting detective had been moping around the house for days so John was glad of this distraction for everyones sake. Mainly his own if he were being honest. There were only so many times he could hear the word 'bored' and the various sounds of damage to his belongings before he could no longer keep his temper in check. The only problem he could foresee was that he was meant to work at the clinic starting at eight am tomorrow, but seeing as he most likely would have been kept awake by the screeching violin or pacing footsteps as he had been for most of this week so far, this was the preferred option by a long way.

Once they had arrived and dispensed with the usual exchanges with Donovan and Anderson, the two consultants walked over towards the body, having first made their way through a group of police and forensics specialists who watched them with the regular expressions of surprise, interest or annoyance.

As he passed the greying DI, Sherlock sniffed with exaggeration, a look of complete puzzlement came over his face which had John pausing and tilting his head to the side. He straightened to his full height and turned slightly as he breathed deeply through his nose. Most of the people standing around found other things to be doing and walked away from the strange man in the long coat who strode over to Lestrade in large strides. He came to a stop, breathing in with force as he sniffed the man from his shoulders to his knees, personal space seemingly didn't enter into the equation.

"What the hell, Sherlock! Get off me!" the Inspector cried out, shooing the other man off with outstretched arms, his long trench flapping softly in the wind.

The eccentric brunet was not to be deterred, however. "Lestrade. Why do you smell like that?" he demanded, brow furrowed.

"What?". Of the many questions he could have been presented with that was not the one he was expecting.

The great consulting detective rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Your cologne" he explained, the 'you idiot' was heavily implied.

A look of blank puzzlement washed over the older man's features. "What about it?"

Sherlock began to pace, waving an arm here and there for emphasis. "I've written up a little blog on the identification of perfumes, I've also noted some colognes. Wouldn't want to discriminate. It's on the website- you should look it up"

"What, on John's site?" he wonders, wanting clarification from the short blond. "I'm always up to date with that and didn't see anything there on perfume"

"What?" the pale man looks befuddled for a second which gives way to disgust and resentment. "Oh for- No! I have a website!"

They all look at the doctor for a moment who is gazing away to the side with his lips pursed, acting sheepishly. He's attempting to keep the attention away from himself. His flatmate was always touchy about his blog being so much more popular.

Lestrade brought the conversation back to focus. "Right, and that blog would tell me what exactly?"

"Well in this case" he smelled the DI with vigor even going to the trouble to lift one of the man's arms and running his nose from his shoulder to the ends of his fingers as the increasingly protesting man tried to step back to no avail. "By the way it's distributed, how it hasn't had much of a chance to meld to your own natural smells, you've had it on for only an hour at most. After your shower just before coming here actually. Retails at over 600 pounds a bottle. No offense but not something that a man of your statue and usual personal grooming standards is going to be able to afford or would buy for himself. But in this case it's not a gift, in fact it's not even yours".

"Sherlock" John warned with a sigh, rubbing at his forehead.

The greying man shook his head with a nervous looking smile as he looked around to see who was watching. "We have a body here, Sherlock. A little focus, yeah?"

"You've never worn this before" he said more to himself, then his smugness showed. "Didn't think I'd notice, did you? Me? You didn't think I'd notice?" he scoffed.

"What the hell are you on about?" the DI snapped with a hint of a snarl, patience almost at it's end.

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked with wide eyes and seemed disappointed when no one else had made the connections that he already had. He looked over to John who simply shrugged his shoulders. He turned back to Lestrade. "That's the type Mycroft keeps next to the basin in his personal bathroom but doesn't wear it often, in fact he's never worn it in front of me. He's been saving it" he stated as though everyone else should have realised that within the first thirty seconds of being there.

Silence rang out in the near vicinity. Many looked from one another with shock. "What? Your brother? Hang on, what are you trying to say-"

"-it's the only possible conclusion to make! You were over at his London residence, received a phone call to come down here. You only had the clothes that you had already worn today with you so you did the best you could with the time available. You had a shower lasting between two and five minutes, I mean look, you didn't even bother shampooing your hair! Then feeling self conscious about your pre-worn attire you grabbed the closest fragrance available, it just happened to be one so recognisable. Are you seriously telling me that no one else has brought this up with you yet? No one?"

"Sherlock, tact. Or timing. In fact, just stop" John muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Right" Lestrade said with a blank expression. "Well as interesting as all that is we have a job to do". He looked over to a group that were muttering and laughing in their general direction. "You lot, breaks over" he growled. "Get on with what we're paying you to do. Anderson, try to make yourself useful". The forensics man seemed to swear, although they couldn't tell exactly what had been said from this distance, and made his way back over to the tent they had set up to protect themselves from the light drizzle. "And for the record, Sherlock" Lestrade said calmly, making sure all within earshot could hear "I did have a quick shower before coming here, spot on, and same clothes as today. But I'm wearing a sample I was handed at the department store".

"No, but that's…" he stopped, for the first time there was a little vulnerability in his tone. "But that's come from a larger bottle. I'm sure that…" but he really didn't sound so sure anymore.

"Come on" John encouraged, taking his friends forearm and steering him back towards the body. "Mystery solved. Greg says it's from a sample, so it's from a sample. They tried to hand me about three different things last time I was there". Sherlock was about to disagree when John continued in a lower voice after a quick nod at the grateful DI. "Do you really want to think about what you're suggesting is going on between the two of them?".

The consulting detective looked over to the familiar policeman who was giving him a tight lipped smile, teeth covered. "No" he said, seeming quite confused for a moment at what he'd implied "no, I guess you're right". At this he dusted the front of his coat, about to bend down and begin his examination of the victim after shaking off John's hand. But being him he had to get one parting shot in. In his lofty tone, he said "I'd go back to your cheap stuff, Lestrade, it suits you more".

"Yeah, thanks. Very kind of you, Mate" he replied, turning and walking away as he begins a text message.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Feedback/reviews are appreciated :)