Not perfect, A key still not working, not beta'd etc. Hopefully more Lock and Lestrade in the next chapter. And what's happened to Moran?

JOHN

For the love of- Is it possible to want to agree with someone but also want to break their nose? Because that is how I feel right now. It's not as if he doesn't deserve it. It would actually do him some good. I look over at Lock, he's not exactly enthusiastic about the whole idea. But he loves facts, he's probably been annoyed that he knows no ones name other than his brother's. If he even thinks of him as his brother. But as much as it pains me to say it, Mycroft is right, Lock needs to meet everyone and they need to meet him.

"Lock?" I left Molly and knelt beside Lock's chair.

"John...?"

"Is this alright with you?" Lock shrugged, clearly either not caring, or he felt as if he had no choice.

I patted his shoulder. He was still quiet and submissive, like he was afraid to be himself. He shouldn't be, if these people tried to hurt him, they'd have to go through me first. Ok, how to do this? Keep it simple. I can do that.

"Well you already know Mycroft." I heard Lock murmur the word fat in my ear.

"Lock..." I couldn't help grinning.

"Well..he is."

"I think my ears are burning." Mycroft commented from cross the room. How did he even hear us?

"His ears...on f-fire?" Lock seemed too pleased at the idea.

"No, um, it's an expression, Lock." A disappointed look crossed his face.

"Pity."

"Anyway, that's Mycroft, this is Greg Lestrade." Greg coughed and smiled, giving a little wave.

"The people behind him are Sally Donovan and, uh, Marion Anderson."

"Ma..rion?"

"What of it?!" I waved a hand at Anderson to tell him to calm down. But I still heard him utter the word freak, causing Sally to elbow him in the side. Lock's face drooped.

"Uh and this is Molly Hooper." I gestured to the young woman beside me who smiled and waved enthusiastically.

Lock looked back at me, his eyes speaking volumes. Get me out of here. This was unnecessary. I'm bored. Didn't he understand the importance of everyone meeting each other? Probably not.

"Lock, you...you knew every one of these people when you were alive." There, I said it.

I watched Lock's eyes grow wide in astonishment. He stared at them, then at me. You can't be serious, his eyes said. That's impossible. Greg placed his hands in front of his chest, in a gesture of good faith. Lock wouldn't meet his eyes, but stared at his hands as Greg made his way through the maze of junk that covered the floor. He stopped in front of Lock's chair and pulled another one out from beneath the table. Lock's arms, still folded cross his chest, tightened.

"Hey, mate. It's nice to meet you."

Lestrade, I bloody love you. He was talking to Lock, not as someone he once knew, but as someone he had never met before. He was treating Lock as if he was his own person. Which he was, but it was a concept that the other's hadn't grasped yet. Lock didn't respond, but nor did he glare at the ex DI. I don't think he appreciated everyone staring at him. I can't blame him, but nor could I stop them. Greg met my eyes and I shrugged. I couldn't force Lock to respond.

"Well I tried. Can't say I'm not used to the silent treatment from him." Greg took me aside, Molly moving to stand beside him and chatter in his ears. "Maybe this is too confronting for him. Let him go somewhere private and we'll come to him."

"No offence, but we tried that."

"You tried by starting with Mycroft. Bad idea, he's desperate to take Lock back and help him. He means well but his ways of 'caring' aren't going to be understood by She-..Lock." Lestrade had a point. If Molly and Lestrade were to speak privately with Lock, they'd do a much better job of it, than Mycroft Holmes.

"In the end, it's up to Lock." Greg grinned.

"Then, we'll just have to ask him." I stole a glance at Lock, who's eyes were pleading with me to stop Molly talking.

"Good luck." You're going to need it.

SHERLOCK

When can I leave? This is tedious and unsafe. You have no reason to keep me here, I've learnt my lesson, John. I promise to leave Gladstone alone if you let me go. John left the mousy girl and knelt beside my chair. What? What's that look for?

"Lock?" That's my name, yes.

"John...?"

"Is this alright with you?" Is what alright with me? Oh, the introductions? Of course! I'd already observed what I could about these people, but a name to put to the faces would not hurt.

"Well you already know Mycroft." Dangerous, I categorised him.

"Fat.." I whispered.

"Lock..."

"Well..he is." John grinned and I wish I could join him.

"I think my ears are burning." Rude. Don't interrupt.

"His ears...on f-fire?" What a wonderful turn of events~

"No, um, it's an expression, Lock." Oh, damn.

"Pity."

"Anyway, that's Mycroft, this is Greg Lestrade." A tall, peppery haired man waved from one of the arm chairs. Safe.

"The people behind him are Sally Donovan and, uh, Marion Anderson." The two people he gestured at scowled at me. Dangerous.

"Mee..rium?" You have to admit, it is a ridiculous name. Isn't that a girl's name?

"What of it?!" This Anderson fellow bellowed from the corner of the room. John tried to quieten him as the female elbowed him as the word freak passed his lips. My face fell, my eyes dropping to the ground. I didn't need him to tell me that. Clearly I was a freak when I was alive as well. The word slipped from his tongue as if he used it regularly. John, I want to go now. I don't like it here. I wanted to be angry, but it wasn't in me today. Only pettiness.

"Uh and this is Molly Hooper." The woman from before smiled too brightly and waved. She seemed friendly enough. Safe, probably harmless.

I turned to look John in the eyes. Get me out of here. This was unnecessary. I'm bored. I know you understand my John, no matter how long we've known each other. But John didn't seem to understand. Or he chose to ignore me. He bit his lip and looked to the floor, then back up at me.

"Lock, you...you knew every one of these people when you were alive." What?

You can't be serious, John. I'd know if I knew these people. Wouldn't I? But then I didn't know about Mycroft. And he's my brother. None of them seem familiar. I have no memory of before I died. Still, to meet people from before that time, it is a lot to process. I'd learn more were they closer to me, but I didn't wish for that level of closeness yet. The silver haired man slowly walked towards myself and John, trying to seem as if he was not a threat. He pulled a chair out and sat in front of me.

"Hey, mate. It's nice to meet you." You already know me, stop pretending. Or...does he know the old me? Sherlock Holmes. I am Lock, the Sherlock half of me is no more. So, I am sorry, your greeting was correct. But that does not mean I will trust you.

"Well I tried. Can't say I'm not used to the silent treatment from him." I wish I could smile. He takes John to one side and I am unable to hear their conversation. The Hooper girl almost skips to my side and starts to babble. And doesn't stop. John, help me. She keeps talking and I can't understand her. It makes no sense. Make her stop, John.

"... Hope you don't mind if I look around, I've only explored the room I'm staying in. I suppose it's Doctor Watson's room really. Well not his room, but where he was sleeping before. That's why he went to sleep with you in the bathroom. It's a funny place to sleep, sort of adorable though I really I-.." John please make her stop.

"Then, we'll just have to ask him." Ask me what? I'll let you ask anything if it will make her stop.

"Good luck."

"Lock, let's start over, why don't you and me go and have a chat somewhere. Is that alright? Somewhere less...intimidating."

What are you implying?