"Sherlock! He's lying!" John hissed to the detective in the kitchen, he looked over to where Lastrade was sipping coffee in the living room, he certainly looked genuine. "For god's sake! Why the hell would your brother want you dead?!"
"I don't think so..."
"Oh so you have a lie detector stashed in that..." John gestured to his head "...massive brain of yours?"
"No, I can tell by; the red of his face, out of breath, and sweating, means he has rushed to get here. The shaking of his arms and stuttering can be the cause of anxiety. When he got in he was putting away his wallet- meaning he got a cab- why would he get a taxi when he has a car? Mustn't have wanted to have been followed, even though, strictly speaking you can follow any means of transport anywhere if you get its licence plate or number. His shirt buttons are out of place by one and he hasn't bothered to tuck it in, knowing Greg that must mean he was in a hurry…Oh and by the love bite on his neck, it seems he was with my brother."
"You don't know that for sure!"
"Well who else would he have been with?"
"Well, maybe his... GIRLFRIEND,"
"You know nothing, John Watson,"
John rolled his eyes.
"He's been dating my brother for over 5 months now, or so we think I thought you would have noticed from the way they talk to each other, I overheard a conversation between them when I was picking up the file about the man that killed people to make intestine soup and I think they're secretly engaged… "
"Wait what? You mean to say, Lestrade is... Gay?"
"Sorry did I stutter? A goldfish, yes"
"A what?"
Sherlock ignored him and wandered over to Greg who had turned on the T.V. He turned it off clasped his hands enthusiastically.
"So we have established that you are telling the truth,"
"You didn't believe me?" Gegory looked more shocked than when he had found out that Mycroft was planning his brother's murder.
"-now, I need you to get more info for me,"
"You're going to take on your own case?" Lestrade said raising his eyebrows.
"So it seems,"
"The game is on!" John came in carrying two cups of tea.
Sherlock looked at him inquisitively. "That's my line," he murmured.
"I'm back!" Greg entered carrying groceries, "pasta anyone?"
Sherlock was sitting crossed legged looking at the wall which was now covered in charts, pictures and little bits of red wool. If Moriarty was to attack, he wanted to have a head start.
"So who's cooking?" John said peering into the bags. No one answered. "I guess that would be me then," and took the bags into the kitchen.
"Are you any closer to figuring out what his next move is?" Greg asked Sherlock, who was leaning his head on his hands- steeple position.
"No," Sherlock didn't look at him.
"Okay then... Better leave you to it," said Lestrade sensing hostility. Sherlock glared at him as Greg slapped him on the back.
"What's this?" John called from the kitchen.
"Oh that," Lestrade entered, "that's your new case, I figured that with all recent findings you'd be better getting out of town for a bit. This is the one that got you let off from exile." He clapped the detective on his back.
"7 murders, targeted on campers in the area, most belongings stolen...It's in Cornwall!"
"Yes, you will stay with my good friend Jolene."
"Not doing it."
"Why? You love murder games – some of these deaths seem pretty gruesome, your kinda thing."
"What about Mary?" John called.
"Who?" Greg asked, un-phased.
"My WIFE, you were at our WEDDING!"
"Ohhh her... What about her?" Greg seemed oblivious.
"She's 8 months pregnant!"
Greg shrugged "can you just put her in hospital early?"
"No! And I don't know how long this case is going to last! I'm not missing the birth of my baby!"
"I thought Sherlock was your baby," Greg muttered sneakily, smiling. "Anyway I've booked you rail tickets, your train leaves tonight,"
"What about Moriarty?" Sherlock appeared by the kitchen entrance, a cold expression pinned on his face.
"I'll take care of him," Greg said determinedly, his phone buzzed in his pocket, "sorry I have to take this," he walked out. Sherlock's attention drifted to John who was heating up water. He looked kind of sexy in an apron, Sherlock scolded himself for smiling, this battle of his wasn't going to win by eyeing up ex marines.
