"This is not my day . . ." DI Lestrade muttered as he walked down an empty street: Not a cab in sight, and raining cats and dogs. He came to a stop when he realized he wasn't sure what street he was on anymore, but he couldn't read the sign through the raindrops.

"Detective Inspector," a voice spoke from behind him. He turned around, surprised, to find Mycroft Holmes holding out his open umbrella for him, and steps under it.

"What brings you out here?" Lestrade asks casually.

"Would you believe me if I said I was out for a walk?" Deciding not to press the matter further, Lestrade just smiles to himself and lets Mycroft walk him down the street.

"Have a drink with me?" he asked hopefully.

"I suppose I could do that," Mycroft answered, equally as casual, though both men sported pleased smirks.

"Not too busy?"

"I'm always too busy, but, as they say, 'all work and no play makes a dull man.'" They tucked into a small pub, filled with people getting out of the rain, and ordered drinks: beer for Lestrade, and red wine for Mycroft.

"I didn't even know they had wine here," Lestrade remarked, raising his glass. "To busy-ness."

"To busy-ness," Mycroft agreed.