Red Lipstick & Trenchcoats Unveiled
Dr. John Watson sat waiting for his lover, a Mr. Sherlock Holmes, in their lodgings at 221b Baker Street. That is when suddenly Detective inspector Greg Lestrade came in through the door. He shut the door quickly behind him and said, "I can't live like this any longer, John. I love you and have for three years. Screw Sherlock he turned me down anyway."
"But we've only known each other for two years . . ."
"I stalked you in Afghanistan. I just couldn't help it."
"Oh, well . . ." John paused for a long moment but in a flurry of quickened movement he took Lestrade into his arms and they embraced each other until they heard a knock at the door.
"Oh, Watson!" Sherlock shouted from the other side of the door.
"Crap!" Lestrade kissed Watson passionately and crawled under the desk.
John ran to the door, gathered his composure, and opened it to find a rather impatient Sherlock.
Sherlock raised an inquisitive brow and said, "Lipstick, John?"
John put his finger to his lip, wiped, and saw the red stain. Damn it, Lestrade!
Sherlock took one look at Watson and pulled Lestrade out from under the desk. "Explain yourselves," he said in a forced tone.
"Well—" John began but was cut off.
Suddenly the door opened to reveal Anderson wearing a trenchcoat which he proceeded to tear off to reveal the naked Anderson.
Sherlock blushed, "You fool!"
John and Lestrade stood open mouthed and boners shown clearly through their trousers. "Forgiven?" John asked.
"Ah, hell."
That night so many noises came from 221b Baker Street that the prime minister made an inquiry and Ms. Hudson had a heart attack. It was one big Scotland Yard and associates orgy.