~Two weeks earlier~
"Well, I'll be damned." D.I Greg Lestrade said with an expression of cheer, walking up to shake his colleague's hand. "It's been forever, Jack! How have you been mate?" The both of them went to college together. A little-known fact is both Jack Crawford and Lestrade worked together on a case in Italy. A British soldier was killed and Greg, still in training, came to assist. The both of them have been in contact since.
"Greg." Jack chuckled fondly, shaking his hand firmly. "It's amazing to see you." The both of them sat at the inspector's desk, Greg taking his coffee cup and taking a sip. "So, what can I do for you?"
The director of the BAU sighed. "I need a favor from you." Lestrade was immediately at attention. "Of course!" Jack pulled out a few photographs and handed them to Greg. "We've been having human sacrifices around the East Coast, the murders more intense than the Chesapeake Ripper." Jack folded his hands, his elbows digging inside of his legs. "I would like to have Sherlock Holmes and John Watson assist on the case."
Timeskip
It was an oddly lazy day for 221b Baker Street. Rain pummeled the windows of their flat, thunder booming ominously. The mood was dreary and leaked unambition. This, with the addition to both John and Sherlock, just getting back from an assignment in France, both of them indulged in the rare peaceful moments they sometimes craved for.
Sherlock was laying on the couch, his omega curled up to his chest. Both had their eyes closed from peacefulness, occasionally commenting on something random. The geniuses hand carded through the ash blonde hair of his mate, the purrs of John Watson echoing the flat.
All was peaceful...until Mrs. Hudson knocked on the doorframe. "Boys? You have a visitor." Sherlock nearly groaned. "Tell him to leave, this is our day off," John said in a lethargic voice, his voice slightly muffled from his position.
Sherlock opened his eyes and sighed. "Don't just stand there, Agent Crawford." He yawned and looked at the man, his eyes searching over him for a mere five seconds. "Get on with what you have to say."
Jack raised an eyebrow and had a manilla folder. "How did you know my name?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, returning to his position. "I know every single aspect of you. Who you are, why you're doing here." He said dismissively, John going back to purring. "You want something from us, Agent."
Jack smiled, walking in front of the couple and sitting down. "There are a series of murders, human sacrifices, going on around the East Coast of the United States. We need to all the help we can get." Jack saw Sherlock meet his eyes. "We will pay for your housing, your living, everything. We just want you two on our team."
John, who was listening intently now, furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the large man. Crawford lifted the yellow folder in the air, gently setting in on the coffe table in front of them. "I'll be in London for a few days, give me a call once you have decided." And, with that, he walked out quietly.
Sherlock gently untangled himself from his and John's scenting session, starting to pace back and forth. John took a look at the crime scene photos, as well as the amount they would be paid. "This is not a bad offer, Sherlock." The detective turned to glance at the crime scene photos. It did look very interesting. But he had to leave Britain, Mrs. Hudson. "...Sherlock, this could be good for us." John stood up and walked behind the detective, rubbing both of his arms. "New environment, new home. No more Moriarty."
Sherlock said nothing in return, making John sigh. "Maybe you need some motivation?" This made the alpha face him, a confused look on his face. "What are you on about?" The omega only gave him a smile, grabbing his hand with immense tenderness. He slowly pulled it down, making Sherlock press his hand against the slight pudge there.
"I'm pregnant, Sherlock."
