A/N – It was hard work not to post this early! But a routine is a routine and I shall stick to it! Please enjoy! It is a mixed emotions chapter and we find out a little bit more about Lestrade!

Lestrade was used to almost instant replies, so when he had had no reply after two hours, he got in his silver BMW and drove to Baker Street. Mrs Hudson let him in- he was rather worried that he had had no reply. "He's been very quiet," she had remarked as he made sure he went up alone.

He found Sherlock in the darkness; he had drawn the curtains and was sitting slumped in a chair staring at the ceiling. Lestrade was worried for a split second, before he saw Sherlock's steady breathing and frowning, moving mouth.

"Sherlock?" Lestrade questioned gently.

Sherlock raised his head to look at Lestrade, his eyes wide, like on another plain of thought. "Ah, Lestrade. How can I help?"

Lestrade paused, prioritising, he needed a Sherlock on top form. If he hadn't seen any sign or smell of drugs, he would have suspected they had a part, which meant…. "Where's Dr Watson?" If he had expected a flippant reply, he didn't get one. Sherlock's frown deepened.

"He went out."

"Out?" he gently probed.

"Moodily, but I don't know why, I was just being completely honest." Lestrade resisted the urge to roll his eyes and settled for biting his lip.

"About what?"

"I told him he was research."

"Research?" Sherlock's eyes narrowed slightly to a more normal size and Lestrade wondered if he was asking too much, getting too personal.

"Yes, but only to improve his experience." Lestrade opened his mouth to speak, but Sherlock pre-emptively continued. "The orgasm and the build-up. Sex." Sherlock ran his hands across his face and through his hair. "Urgh."

Lestrade didn't know what to say. So, Sherlock and John were at it. They had joked about it in the office, but no one really took it seriously. Now, here was Sherlock clearly way out of his depth in some kind of relationship, at least of a sexual nature with John Watson. Lestrade was quite sure that it was the emotions confusing Sherlock though.

"If you need to talk…" he began awkwardly. He didn't have the best track record and had once fantasised about a long term relationship, having five children, maybe more and playing football with them in the garden. He had been quite good when he was younger, but he was sure he could still play. He hadn't had a vaguely lasting relationship for months. He had some on-off people over the years, but women and men were both as unreliable as the other. He was quite liberal, he knew he had some looks but he rarely had the time or energy for fun, let alone a relationship. So, he has settled on work and the odd wank to porn when the mood arose, even one night stands were too much hassle. Plus it didn't really fit with his role at Scotland Yard.

Sherlock was looking like a bit of a lost puppy, albeit tall, lanky and not young. Sherlock said nothing, so Lestrade decided to keep talking.

"With people we care about, uh, sometimes it helps to not tell everything. Labelling John as research likens him to a test tube or some bacteria."

"But they are fascinating and worth my time."

Lestrade bit back a retort. "John is more complex, Sherlock."

"To an extent."

"Don't tell him that." Sherlock nodded slightly. Lestrade didn't know how to handle Sherlock like this. He wanted snappy, fast thinking, pain in the arse Sherlock back, for once. "Got much research then?"

"With John? Twenty two, plus twelve alternative observations unexplored." Lestrade laughed slightly.

"When did it start?"

"Just before that Diane Halburt case." Lestrade's eyes widened slightly. Twenty two times in less than a month. John Watson was a lucky bugger. He floundered slightly.

"So, uh, do you, erm, emotions?" he ended lamely.

"Do I love him?" Sherlock was slowly getting back to the Sherlock he knew well. He sat up a bit straighter. "Love? What is Love?" he sounded haughty "How can I define it and see if John fits in? How can I put John into something everyone else can understand when I do not understand it myself?"

"Taking up playwriting?" Lestrade teased. Sherlock fixed Lestrade with a calculating glare. His eyes drifted piercingly down his body. Lestrade wondered and not for the first time, what Sherlock would be like in the bedroom. He caught himself as Sherlock's eyes drifted up from his crotch, to his chest and then to his face. He was slightly worried about what Sherlock was thinking, so he coughed pointedly and Sherlock blinked in surprise. He was apparently surprised Lestrade was resisting his glare. "Look Sherlock, I'm here about a case."

Sherlock sat up straight, steepling his fingers under his chin and crossing his legs. Lestrade took this as a cue to speak.

"So far, we've had two murders. Simple stabbings- one in North London, one in South London. Both were wounds to the stomach. A small cross has been scarred post death on the cheek. They happened one day apart. John mentioned a few days ago you need some work."

Sherlock, who was posing as deep in thought, looked up, surprised.

"Yes, so get ready and come with me now. In my car." Sherlock started to protest "Now! Sherlock!"

Sherlock scowled slightly but headed off to his bedroom, pulling off clothes as he walked so Lestrade saw his lean but fit body. He bit his lip hard to distract himself from the thoughts Sherlock had started to cause earlier with his calculated stare at Lestrade's crotch.

He walked over to the window and stared out thinking about the last time he had had sex. "God," he thought to himself "has it really been that long?"

A/N – So what did you think? Please review! I can't say it enough! Reviews are vital for writing! I've no idea how it is going if you don't tell me and as a nervous writer… that isn't good!

Chapter 3 will be up next Thursday and it is a short one… Which gives me just over a week to finish Chapter 4 and have it Beta'd by the lovely CrypticNymph, who also Beta'd this chapter!

Nervously waiting your response, thanks for reading and feel free to follow me Lifeintrigues on Twitter!