I do not own this show at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story.
Of all the things Gregory Lestrade expected to be wrong with his new flat finding two ghosts haunting it was not anywhere on the list of potential problems. He could deal with an infestation, he could deal with the neighbors being involved with illegal activities (he could just have them arrested), he could deal with bad plumbing, he could deal with just about anything but ghosts. But here he was sipping tea on his couch in his pajamas watching two partially transparent glowing men argue.
He wasn't sure how exactly it happened he just knew that he got up to get a drink and suddenly he was face to face with a dark haired man in a dramatic coat. Things went hazy around then because the next thing he knew he was sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in his hands and an orange shock blanket draped over his shoulders. He looked down at the tea noting that it was very hot and the slight pain from his fingers told him he was not dreaming. The two chairs that occupied the living room now had two transparent men glaring at each other in them. In the green modern chair sat the one that he'd run into, in the old and comfortable looking red chair was a short transparent man with light hair. They were hard to make out as looking at them, well the closest comparison he had was when he tried on his great aunt Eleanor's glasses and discovered that she had horrible vision.
"Nice of you to join us Lestrade." The dark haired one drawled his voice deep for someone so skinny.
"You know my name?" He asked blankly his lips beginning to work even before his brain could.
"Yeah Mrs. Hudson told us." The light haired one said in a voice that was not deep or menacing enough to belong to the stereotypic ghost. "I'm John and that's Sherlock." John said gesturing from himself to the ghost in the other chair.
"Did Mrs. Hudson make us tea?" Lestrade asked sounding strangely absent as he tried not to focus on the fact that he was probably having a psychotic break. "She makes tea for me all the time."
"No she doesn't." Sherlock snapped sulking in his seat. "You've been drinking John's tea."
"So I've been drinking ghost tea?" Lestrade asked his face a shade of white that would have looked more at home on the ghosts faces.
"No you've been drinking John's tea. There are no such things as ghosts." Sherlock snapped and Lestrade expected the whole haunted thing to take off and go crazy, but nothing happened. The lights didn't flicker and nothing shook but his hands, no flashes of light or anything. The only haunted thing that was happening was the mostly transparent man glaring at him from his seat on the green chair.
It seemed that the absence of shaking furniture and flickering lights gave him courage because he replied just as snappily. "If it looks like a ghost and acts like a ghost it's a ghost, now why are you two haunting my flat?"
"We're not haunting anything! It was our flat first, in fact it still is we're still paying the rent." Sherlock said as he sulked his arms crossed as he slouched in the chair.
"Technically Mycroft is." John piped up from his seat in the other chair and Lestrade turned to see the less aggressive ghost sipping his tea.
"And he's right we're not ghosts but someone decided to touch a dangerous machine he found on the other side of a door clearly marked do not enter. We passed out and when we woke up we were like this." John swept his arm out. "It's actually not that bad though there are a few things I miss about being normal."
"It was for the case!" Sherlock shouted, looking like a child throwing a tantrum.
Lestrade just barely managed to resist dragging his palm down his face and looked between the two of them. "Are you two the reason I can't replace any of the furniture or get rid of that weird cow head?"
"Yeah. We're quite attached to the way the place looks. Besides if this happened to you would you want some stranger going around throwing out all of your stuff?" John said calm as could be. "I'm surprised though most people complain about the skull before they mention the cow." He gestured to the cow skull wearing headphones on the wall.
"No I suppose not." Greg said feeling like Rod Sterling was going to walk out at any second and welcome him into his stay in the Twilight Zone. "I'm not moving out this is all I can afford right now so if you're planning on scaring me off it's not going to work."
Sherlock scowled at him, at least he thought he scowled it was hard to tell with them. "If I wanted you gone you'd be gone already. You bring your work home with you and it is a welcome distraction to have something to do."
"Sherlock's a detective. He can help you with your cases." John piped up. "It will give him something to do other than complain."
Greg decided to ignore that for the moment, not sure if he wanted to deal with the repercussions of telling the angrier ghost no. "So how does this work?"
"There are theories but without any hard evidence a definite conclusion is hard to come to." Sherlock began but he was interrupted by John.
"I think he means how do two..." John hesitated for a moment looking like he had to physically force the word to form. "Ghosts and one human share a two bedroom flat."
"Yeah am I taking someone's bed or were you two together when you were still alive?" Greg said gesturing between the two.
"No." John spat waving his hands in the universal signal for no way in hell. "Sherlock and I were never a couple no matter what Mrs. Hudson says."
"You're sleeping in my room. You can keep it I prefer the couch." Sherlock shrugged sounding unconcerned.
"Okay good to know." Greg said as he looked between the two of them. "Is there anything else we need to discuss?"
"Throw out the fridge, the microwave, the stove any anything else you cook on or with. Just trust me on that." John said seriously.
"So I have to furnish the flat that I got because it came fully furnished because the ghost that's haunting my flat told me to?" Greg snapped.
"No just the kitchen and unless you want nightmares it's better not to ask why." John said as he took another sip of his tea.
"I'm going to bed." Greg said flatly as he stood letting the blanket fall from his shoulders as he walked into his room and locked the door. He got into the bed not even bothering to move the covers and stared at the ceiling wondering if he was going to wake up and find that this was all some nightmare from having one too many cups of the stations coffee.
This wasn't in the Under Construction portion of my profile I was just bored.