A/N: Not sure where I'm going with my other story, but here is an interlude from the life of Gregory Lestrade.
For Gregory Lestrade, the summer of '78 is many things. It is bonfires on the beach in the evening, nights spent stargazing as the bats flit around the roof of his Somerset home, playing guitar until his fingers hurt, running inside to set a new record on the turntable and singing along like an idiot. It is dancing and rock and roll and barbecues, and bouncing around in the window seat of Da's pick-up. He is young then, and carefree, and he smokes behind the cinema, kisses girls and dreams of concerts, because next year, next year will be London.
The city is everything he imagines it to be and more. It is music, the roar of traffic, police sirens and bright lights and it's alive, so alive that he barely misses the beach and the mill-pond and the lazy nights, until summer comes round again. Then, away from school and friends and concerts, he lies on his bed with the turntable blaring 'Born to Run' and devours comics instead of his school textbooks, detective novels instead of his father's law books, and somewhere along the way he decides that he wants to be a cop. He wants to change the world.
Over three decades later, world weary and more than little depressed, Greg throws himself down on the sofa in his empty flat and wonders where that dream has gone.
A/N: Please read and review. If I get inspiration, I may update.