"If I'm not mistaken, Holmes, Inspector Lestrade is on our stair."
Holmes looked up from his tablet with a smirk. "Good ear, Watson. Let us see why the good inspector has come. Let her in, will you?" he said before returning his eyes to his reading.
Watson crossed to open the door, pulling it open just as Lestrade leaned in to knock. "Good morning, Inspector."
Surprised by the door's sudden opening, Lestrade left her hand hanging in the air for an instant before dropping it and striding into the flat. "Hello, Watson. Holmes."
Holmes barely glanced up. "Hello, my dear Lestrade," he said, his voice haughty as usual. "Come to tell us of your accident, I take it?"
Lestrade glared at him and crossed her arms. "Okay, Holmes. How'd you know? You couldn't have read it in the news, and you haven't looked at me closely enough to deduce anything from my appearance."
"I barely needed to see you in order to deduce that you'd had some accident from your state — you are more even more agitated than usual." Lestrade snorted derisively. "But as it happens, Wiggins was passing by your home at the time and phoned to tell me."
"Of course he did." Lestrade sighed as she dropped onto a couch. "Look, Holmes —"
Holmes finally dropped the tablet to his lap and faced her directly. "You are most welcome to stay here, Lestrade. The spare room is made up for you."
Lestrade stared blankly at him for a moment, then chuckled to herself. "Of course it is," she murmured. "Thanks, Holmes."
"You're very welcome, Lestrade," he said vaguely. "It is always a pleasure to have you around."