Ooh You Bastard
Lestrade walked further into the darkness of the car park, patting his pockets searching for his cigarettes. It had been one of "those" days … the kind of day where he missed Sherlock desperately. While thrilled that the Consulting Detective's name had finally been cleared, it hadn't happened soon enough.
Even though two years had passed, Greg still thought of the Detective every day. But today, this case, this was one of the tricky ones that Sherlock thrived on. Lestrade and his team had been banging their heads over the Waters gang for a while now. It was almost as if they were psychic; they always seemed to know when NSY would arrive and cleared out seconds before. It was frustrating and annoying and it was making Greg pull what little hair he had left on his head.
While he wasn't one for 'if only's', Greg was thinking: 'if only I'd come down harder on Donovan and Anderson'; 'if only I'd paid more attention'; 'if only I'd dug a little deeper' … 'if only I'd been like John and believed'.
As he placed a cigarette to his lips, a clang sounded from the darkness. Seeing nothing, Greg flicked his lighter and a voice from the past washed over him.
Shocked, all Greg could say was, "Ooh, you bastard".