Another case, as usual. Tedious, according to Mr Holmes the younger, yet he still insisted on investigating - a boring case is better than no case. Sherlock had proceeded towards the body to inspect it, each limb of the corpse painted a different colour. John was told sternly by Sherlock to keep back for fear of any toxic substances. Thankfully, John didn't want to go near the body. It was cold, and he wanted to go home to drink tea and hopefully finish that book he had been reading for the past two months.
Detective Inspector Lestrade approached John with two cups of coffee, fresh from the nearest coffee shop, and held one out for John to take.
"Thanks."
"No problem. Bit chilly today."
"Yeah, just wish Sherlock would hurry up and let me go home, he probably solved it within the first five minutes anyway... as usual."
Lestrade laughed. It was true; Sherlock would never give away the details until the DI had practically begged him to.
Lestrade's laugh was cut short when a black car drove up to the police tape which was sectioning off the perimeter of the crime scene. He gulped and slowly made his way over to it.
John could see the elder Holmes exit the vehicle and greet the DI with a handshake. Lestrade, fumbling in an attempt to return the gesture, dropped his cup of coffee over Mycroft's shoes.
John laughed when Greg turned a dark shade of pink, he barely ever saw the policeman that colour. John presumed that Mycroft had made some sort of remark along the lines of "That's perfectly fine, Detective Inspector." To which Greg corrected him, making Mycroft call him by his first name.
Sherlock had just walked over to meet with John, when he realised that his idiot brother was at the scene.
"Oh for god's sake, John." Sherlock started to march over to his brother but a hand shot out in front of him, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Sherlock gave John a hard stare.
"No, Sherlock. Just... just look." Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked towards the DI and Mycroft.
Mycroft was now correcting Greg on his own name, deciding that Gregory suited him far better. Mycroft smiled, and Greg returned it, both of them not breaking eye contact for at least five seconds until Greg felt a little bit awkward, and so he coughed.
Sherlock sighed, "What?"
"Just pay attention. For the world's most observant person, you really can't concentrate sometimes."
"Not when it's... him." Sherlock turned his nose up at the last word.
Greg was now saying his goodbyes to Mycroft; he probably had some extremely important business meeting which he was attempting to disguise as 'tea with a colleague'. Yeah right.
Greg shook Mycroft's hand, successfully this time, and smiled at the elder Holmes once more. And then he was off again in his posh expensive car, into the bustle of London city. Greg then proceeded to make his way back over to John and Sherlock.
"So, anything?" Greg looked a hell of a lot more cheery than he did not five minutes ago. John noticed this. And he knew why. Sherlock did not.
"Why are you so happy Inspector?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
Greg started to rub the back of his neck in an attempt to make him a little less nervous. "Oh just... stuff."
"Stuff?" Sherlock was becoming more confused by the second. "What sort of-"
"Right then Sherlock, off we go. I'm sure you can text Lestrade the details." John then shoved an annoyed Sherlock towards the road to hail a cab as John turned to Greg, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
Greg let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks John." They smiled at each other, and then John went to catch up with his flatmate.
Most of the time Greg is thankful that Sherlock is so observant - it clears up cases so much more rapidly. But other times, he's thankful that he isn't always one hundred percent on the ball. And that John is such a good friend. Greg wasn't ready to let Sherlock know that he hadn't figured out the case of 'The sudden happiness of the wild Lestrade'. Not yet anyway.