Lestrade looked from his book when he felt an arm around himself. He looked down to see Sherlock suddenly tightly grasping his torso.
"You need something?" Greg asked, giving a light chuckle. He put his book on the nightstand, and looked down at Sherlock's bored expression.
"John is always saying I need sleep. Bore me to sleep with stories about your day."
"Prat," Greg said, kissing his detective's temple, "Well, Anne called me today-"
"No!" Sherlock interrupted. He knew Sherlock loathed his Mad ex-wife, and she in return. She often called Greg, telling him Sherlock "turned him gay," and that he ruined their marriage, not her cheating. He couldn't blame Sherlock for not want to hear about her.
"She said the kids wanted to meet you…" Lestrade finished, "The just know you as 'that guy Dad works with who he loves now'"
"I think about it…" Sherlock said, turning over on to his side, "Goodnight, then."
"What? Don't wanna hear about burnt toast breakfast? Or about my meetings? Not even my phone calls?"
Lestrade teased
"I think I'll count sheep this time," Sherlock ended with, beginning to drift off. Lestrade went back to his book, more in love with that mad man than he should be.
