Lestrade

Sherlock has been coming to crime scenes happier as of late. Okay sure, he's always happy when surrounded by death, but that's a different kind of happiness. It's cold and dead underneath its shell. The new kind of happiness is the kind he's only felt while on drugs-warm and pleasant. In fact, it's made him very pleasant, even to Sally and Anderson, which worried me more than his pleasantness towards myself. So, I decided that after a week of this I would talk to him. We'd made a deal: he went cold turkey, he got cases. But now he'd broken the deal, I was sure of it.

I pulled him aside at the scene of our latest murder (three people dead, clear signs of being forced to kill one another) to talk. He'd been staring around vacantly and smiling in a way that was so very un-Sherlockian, and I couldn't stand knowing he was slowly killing himself again. He was like a son to me now, and I would not lose him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, smiling his warm smile again. It was unsettling, as his usual smile didn't touch his eyes. This smile was different; not only did it touch his eyes, I was pretty sure there was some fornication going on. It was wrong.

"Sherlock, are you on drugs?"

His smile slipped and was replaced with a frown. A good sign, then, that he wasn't too high to not be annoyed that I'd found out.

"What, I can't be happy without being drugged up?"

"Isn't that what you told me before your brother and I sent you to rehab?"

"Okay, but that's changed. Something happened at rehab and well, so what if I'm happy now? Is that a bad thing?" he looks and sounds rather accusing, but I'm not about to let him go that easy.

"What happened at rehab? Because whatever it is, it's changed your whole personality."

"It's none of your buisiness, but I met someone, okay?"

"Who? And how long have you been...not asexual?"

"You mean gay?"

"Uh...yeah. Wait...you're gay?"

"Well, it's been a month and a half since we met...we've been together...a month and five days, maybe? And yes, of course I'm gay! Girls are...ugh." he shuddered

His phone chimed and he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Oh. Right. A month and a week. Er. Would you give me a moment to get yelled at by my boyfriend? And please don't mention this to Anderson and Donavan?"

"Okay..."

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "His name is Artemis Fowl the Second. Look him up." he walked off, and I just managed to catch the beginning of the conversation.

"Hey angel!" he flinched. "What? Yes, yes I know that!"

Oh dear. This was going to be fun. (Not)