Disclaimer: I still do not own.
Wow - this chapter got seriously longer than previous chapters. It's a lot harder than I expected to write CCTV footage. Hope it's still ok with you all and hope you still enjoy. :) As always comments and feedback are most welcome. ;)
EIGHT - in which Lestrade is amused (and John has a brief panic attack)
The CCTV footage was time stamped at 1:53 AM. Divided into four, it showed footage from four separate cameras around the zoo.
The grainy picture in the top left corner showed two figures stumbling down the main path of the zoo. The three people watching instantly knew it was John and Sherlock. And despite the poor visual quality, the audio was conveniently quite clear.
"What are you doing, Sherlock?"
"Experimenting," the consulting detective slurring, before giggling slightly.
"Sherlock, this is London Zoo," John joined in on his flatmates infectious laughter.
"Precisely. I... I need to expand..." Hiccup. "Expand my experimenting. Animals are the most... logical step after humans..."
John frowned and stumbled slightly. "Does this mean that I'll be finding animal body parts in the fridge instead of human?"
"Quite possibly."
"Well... well, that's a relief then."
"I want a lion!" Sherlock sounded like an eight year old girl wanting a doll and John didn't appear to argue.
To John's left, Lestrade snorted with laughter, quickly covering it up with an unconvincing cough. Sherlock shot the detective a disapproving look.
"Sorry Sherlock" Lestrade apologised. "But you're drunk..." he trailed off into a light chuckle. "You. Drunk. It's just so... hilarious, not to mention totally wrong... somehow." And John couldn't help but agree.
"I knew I was right in my consuming of alcohol," Sherlock decided on ignoring Lestrade. "The Rohypnol probably blinded my good judgement." John resisted the urge to repeat 'good judgement' back at him in an incredulous tone and instead turned back to the footage as the figures of John and Sherlock appeared in the bottom left camera.
"Shh... Sherlock!" John whispered tightly as though trying to be serious. "They'll hear!"
"No one's here but us," Sherlock slurred the words together. "What'll I do, wake the monkeys?" He sniggered in a very uncharacteristic way.
"Monkeys!" John laughed as though this was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "Sherlock... Sherlock..."
"What?"
"These are the monkeys here..." and he pointed to a cage off camera. "I thought... Didn't you want a lion? They're the other way," and he dissolved into giggles.
Sherlock, seemingly unfazed by this, took hold of John's arm and led him away.
Back in Lestrade's office, John shifted uncomfortably. Had this been anyone else other than himself and Sherlock, he would have found it highly amusing. However, he had other serious things on his mind. Had they been married when this had happened? He dreaded to think of what would happen if one of them said something on the CCTV footage. Pushing the anxiety to the back of his mind he focused once again on the screen, which now showed Sherlock picking the lock on a building outside what he presumed was the lion's enclosure.
"Sherlock, you're not going to find a lion in there."
The door clicked open. "I know that! I'm getting a trans...tranc... tranquilizer!"
"No, no. I'm not letting you play with a tranquilizer," John shook his head firmly, but was ignored by Sherlock who disappeared into the small building. There was a bang followed by a crash before Sherlock immerged again with an overly large gun.
"If you hit me with one of those, I will never forgive you."
"This coming from the man who just-"
"Well, I'm not going to help you carry an unconscious lion back home," John cut in and then frowned. "Why do you want a lion again?"
"You're sobering up," Sherlock with mock graveness. "And I'll tip half the tranquilizer fluid out. It'll still be able to walk... just... Oh, I know! It'll be drunk! Like us!" He giggled and John joined in again.
Back in his office, Lestrade stifled another laugh. Knowing what the two men in the footage were really like made it all the more hilarious for him. Hiding a smirk behind his hand, Lestrade continued watching as John and Sherlock appeared in the final two corners of the screen. The footage was only brief and showed only glimpses of them and a lion being smuggled out of its enclosure.
Sherlock and John struck up conversation again as the top left screen again showed them, this time leaving (Sherlock with a fist around the mane of a stumbling lion).
John staggered along beside Sherlock and the lion, giggling uncontrollably. No doubt at the ridiculous situation they were in.
"D'you... think I could ride on the lion back home?" John said through the laughter.
"Oh no, you'd ruin my experiment."
"I thought I said no experimenting on the lion..." John said, frowning.
"Spoil sport," Sherlock huffed. John murmured something incoherent and the pair collapsed into giggles again, half leaning on the lion for support. Moments later they ambled out the main gate.
The tape froze as it finished and John sighed, running a hand over his face. Silently he vowed never to let Sherlock drink alcohol again. Glancing at the taller man, John noticed he looked slightly embarrassed also, which succeeded in making him feel slightly better.
"I'll tell them off, but you do realise there is no way Anderson and Donovan are going to let you forget this," Lestrade said leaning forward to switch the tape off.
"I wouldn't have expected anything else from them," Sherlock said straightforwardly. John nodded in accord.
"At least you didn't steal a police car," Lestrade continued. "I would have known about that." He gave a weak chuckle as the room descended into silence. John couldn't help thinking that it might have been less stressful if they had stolen a police car. "So, uh, what happened to the lion?"
"From what we know, we managed to take it through Regent's Park and back to Baker Street," answered Sherlock.
"And then lock it in my bathroom," muttered John.
"Of course. Cannot forget that, can we," Sherlock shot John and grin and the doctor inwardly sighed at how Sherlock seemed to be enjoying this again.
"And you said Mycroft's sorted it all out?" Lestrade said, trying to work it all out in his mind. John and Sherlock both nodded; the latter rather reluctantly as though he was annoyed he had to call upon his brother to sort it out.
"God knows what you must have got up to besides this lion incident." Lestrade muttered with a shake of his head. John glanced at Sherlock, who appeared not to notice. Swallowing roughly, John felt as though the wedding ring in his pocket had just increased to the weight of a bowling ball; weighing him down. Had they gotten up to anything else last night?
And then something suddenly clicked into place. John's mouth fell open in indescribable shock. "Oh my..."
"What?" Lestrade and Sherlock spoke together, the latter fixing sharp eyes on John. "John?"
"We need to talk, Sherlock," John said, forcing his mouth to work and staring wide-eyed at his flatmate. Lestrade frowned in confusion watching on as Sherlock narrowed eyes at John, who now looked pointedly back.
Sensing he was missing something, Lestrade gave a nod of his head, gesturing to the door. "Go on."
John wasted no time in pulling Sherlock out into main corridor. With nervous eyes flitting back and forth, the doctor led him down until they found an empty room. John shut the door behind them, before turning to Sherlock, who spoke.
"John, what are you-?"
"We need to find out what happened last night!" John's voice had risen higher again in stress.
"I know, John. Why do you think we-"
"I mean, what happened between us! We're married remember. We've possibly been drugged with Rohypnol. And Mrs Hudson said we sounded 'involved'. And you woke up naked for god's sake!"
"Meaning?"
"Do I have to spell it out to you? Wait, no. Don't answer that," John paused and took a deep breath. Nervously he ran a hand through his hair.
"You think we had sex at some point last night?" Sherlock asked and John cringed at the casualness with which he said it.
"What other conclusion can you draw?"
Sherlock quirked his lips into a slight smile. "We didn't have sex, John."
"How can you know, though? We can't remember anything!"
"Let me finish. I don't have to be a doctor to recognise the physical changes that occur in my own body post sexual intercourse." John cringed again. "As I don't have sufficient knowledge of your own body, I cannot say the same for you. But I'm sure you can work that out for yourself. And you know Mrs Hudson's got an overimaginative mind. I suspect she enjoys watching us squirm."
"Oh..." relief washed over John as Sherlock finished. He instantly felt guilty and embarrassed at his now obvious overreaction and turned red. "Sorry."
"Quite alright," Sherlock waved it off with a smile.
John returned the smile, albeit weakly. "I guess I'm just paranoid about this whole forgetting last night thing. Wish we knew what happened already." Sherlock nodded in thoughtful agreement. "Is it weird that I'm finding comfort in your..." John trailed off, trying to think of a tactful way of explaining it.
"In my logical, emotionally detached, calm way of looking at this?"
"Well, I was looking for a more polite way of saying that, but yes."
Sherlock nodded. "Well, no. It's not weird. It's only reasonable."
"Thank you, then."
"You're welcome," Sherlock replied, before adding, "Besides, I always sleep naked."
John didn't know whether to be shocked or not. Either way, that was something he really didn't need to know. He was then (thankfully) spared any further thought as his phone rang.
The number wasn't one he recognised.
