Lestrade was sitting down, shakily sipping a coffee whilst Sherlock was perched on top of the chair opposite him, unable to sit properly due to the discomfort and pain of leaning on his wings.
"So, I must, ah, remove each remaining member of Moriarty's network, so that the rest of us, will be safe from them."
"Mmm... so when did you get, y'know -"
"My wings?"
"Yes."
"That story is best left unsaid."
Lestrade said nothing, though his brow furrowed slightly.
An awkward silence descended on the room.
Lestrade sipped his coffee.
Sherlock's wings twitched.
"So... who else knows?"
"Mrs Hudson and Molly."
"Mycroft?"
"Mycroft may be seemingly omniscient, but it is one of the few secrets I have managed to withhold from him."
"How did y-"
"Sherlock! You have to go, now! John's here!"
Molly burst into the room, almost stepping on the fragments of pottery that had smashed on the floor.
Sherlock blinked once, then jumped off of his chair/perch then walked smoothly out of the door, heading for the rooftop. Molly started to walk after him, then noticed Lestrade sitting on one of the autopsy tables. She gave him a helpless look.
"Don't tell John will you?"
Lestrade opened his mouth to reply, when a knocking on the door stopped him in his tracks.
AN: MOAR cliffhangers! I'm sorry it's so short! I don't think there's going to be another update for a few days. Sorry again, I'll try to keep writing though. If I'm honest, I need a bit of a break, because you have been getting updates every 1-2 days, so I have been practically writing non-stop. I think Sherlock sounds too much like Mycroft... I need to rewatch the series again. Reviews please!