Dedicated to and inspired by Arkham-Insanity
(Sorry this took so long, Dear.)
But seriously, you all need to check her out on deviantart because she is fantastic.
And now to this little one-shot.
*0*
The sun had begun to set when Lestrade and his team were packing up for the night. They had been working for the past few days on a triple homicide that turned out to be the doing of a jealous Nanny who had it in for the lady of the house, her child and finally the Husband who admitted to not actually loving the estranged servant back. It had been a gruesome scene, but Sherlock had flaunted in without so much as a wince, in fact he had been smiling, his boredom had been relieved.
For all of three minutes.
After spurting an incredibly long and lengthy monologue revealing every disgusting detail of the crime he heaved a great sigh of satisfaction before flashing a blinding grin to John who muttered, "Brilliant!"
Three hours later, the photos had been taken, the bodies to the morgue and the scene almost wrapped up so they could all go home for a much needed rest.
Sally and Anderson had spit out several insults and jibes at the sociopath who ignored their every word and stalked over to where Lestrade was packing away a few personal items.
"You will inform me when the next case worthy my attention pops up, won't you? Preferably an eight or nine."
Lestrade looked up at the arrogant sod that he saved all those years ago with a fond smile.
"Yeah, of course Sherlock. Can't do it without you." Lestrade held out his hand in his thanks.
Sherlock didn't take it, but what he did instead was so incredibly shocking that Donovan and Anderson both audibly dropped their jaws. Lestrade found himself in the shockingly warm embrace of a certain high functioning sociopath who whispered a quiet thank you into his ear before disappearing so quickly Lestrade wondered if he had imagined the encounter.
His co-worker's faces told him otherwise. Looking to a bemused John for some explanation he quickly noticed a certain lightness in his breast pocket, a familiar and small weight, barely detectable but no longer there. Reaching into the chilled folds of his leather jacket he desperately scrambled for his Badge. He wasn't willing to pay for a replacement…again….for the fifth time.
At least he would have the opportunity to take a better picture. But not the point! Where the bloody hell was-
Oh.
Oh that little Bastard.
He hurried around the corner followed by John and the Yarders who seemed curious at his sudden change in demeanor.
He was going to strangle that skinny, whiney, cheeky-
Sherlock was by the deserted street leaning against a police car, probably waiting for John to catch up so they could walk home together, holding a cigarette in one hand and Lestrade's badge in the other and a smirk on his bowed lips.
-haughty, manipulative, self-centered-
Sherlock remained entirely oblivious to the approaching Inspector, probably lost somewhere in his mind palace, which made it painfully easy for Lestrade to grasp the thin wrist, snatch his badge back and deliver a walloping smack to the back of the alabaster hand.
Sherlock gasped more in shock of being violently thrown out of his Mind Palace and back into reality than in pain. But it still bloody hurt.
"Why do you insist on being such an arse!? Can't you leave my stuff alone, please?!" Lestrade growled at the confused Detective before him, still leaning casually against his car.
"Oh, please do shut up Graham!" Sherlock gave the Inspector a frustrated shove to restore some personal space.
Bad idea.
"It's Greg! You ignorant arsehole! I've asked you to leave my badge alone! On several occasions, but do you listen to me? No, you don't. Because you are an immature child! You always need to win, Sherlock. Because to you it's a game, it's funny. But not to me! Just grow up already!" And with that Lestrade grasped him by the wrist and twisting it behind his back, he leaned a very red Sherlock over the hood of his police car and delivered a sharp blow to the Detective's backside, much to the howling laughter of Donovan and Anderson. John stood not too far from the Yarders, smirking to himself. Sherlock could be a downright pain in the arse and if Lestrade wanted to teach him a lesson, by all means he wouldn't stop him. He knew Lestrade would never hurt Sherlock, but a little humiliation for acting like such a bloody child might be good for him.
After three more strategically placed smacks that sent Sherlock wriggling to get away, John found himself biting back giggles at the incredibly shocked face of a raging sociopath. Sherlock's long legs skittered from underneath him as he struggled for purchase in his awkwardly humiliating position.
-Immature, arrogant, prideful-
Lestrade struggled to keep his hold on the wiggling form, "Stay still, Damn it!" and to his surprise, his instruction was obeyed.
Lestrade, not wasting an opportunity placed a solid extra ten whacks, one on top of the other, he had two teenage boys of his own, and many times he had dragged them both over his lap several times throughout their lives. He had plenty practice.
Sherlock didn't appreciate the perfected technique.
One last wallop was delivered, this one forcing a yelp from the mussed up Detective who was released and spun to face a stern looking Inspector.
-rude, heartless, sod.
Lestrade grasped Sherlock by the collar and pulled him down to look him in the eye and was satisfied to see a bright crimson blush across his cheeks and to find the usual superior twinkle in his eyes was gone and replaced with what seemed like humiliation.
"Now maybe you have learned something out of all of this. Now promise me you'll leave my stuff alone! Because don't think I won't hesitate to pull you over my lap if you pull this stunt again!" Lestrade held the icy gaze until Sherlock averted his eyes and mumbled, "I promise not to take your badge again."
"Good, now come here you." This time Lestrade pulled a still blushing Sherlock into a tight, long hug before letting him go with one last squeeze.
"Behave yourself. Now, get out of here, both of you!" Lestrade walked back to his Yarders grinning as he watched Sherlock bolt and John struggle to keep up, and soon they were both out of sight, lost in the streets of London.
"You should have warned me, Sir. I would have had my camera ready!" Sally snorted and wiped a stray tear from her eye.
Lestrade chuckled to himself, reaching in his pocket for a light when he felt his heart skip a beat.
Donovan noted the look of utter shock on her Boss' face and when no explanation came, she prompted, "Uh, Sir? Is something wrong?"
Lestarde looked up at her after a long moment and sighed loudly, "That little fucker took my wallet!"
A/N: ~You like?