In hindsight, perhaps the first person Greg introduced his new Sergeant to should probably not have been Sherlock Holmes. Especially not a Sherlock, who on his way home from his fruit shopping had decided to call in to the St. Bart's mortuary and throttle a corpse. Still the deed had been done, and Sergeant Silver had come out of it reasonably unscathed.
"Sherlock, this is Jason Silver. He's my new sergeant. He's just arrived."
"Are you tripping them up as they come through the door now Gregory?" LeStrade ignored him.
"This is Sherlock Holmes. We consult him on our more difficult cases." Jason held out his hand and smiled warmly, taking stock of Sherlock's slender body and cutthroat cheekbones.
"Very flattering Sergeant, but I already have a boyfriend." Jason blushed.
"I'm sorry sir?"
"You don't have to call me sir, I'm not a policeman. You were checking me out. And your sweaty palms and elevated heart rate tells me you like what you see. The Inspector here, however, does not have a boyfriend. And underneath that suit I am told he is rather well put together." It was Greg's turn to blush.
"Sherlock."
"Although he does have a twin brother, who I would say is probably more "
"There are two of you?" Jason looked confused.
"No. There's only one of me. My brother is engaged to Sherlock's big brother Mycroft."
"There are two of them?" Jason looked really confused and slightly worried.
"I'm afraid so."
"Was there anything else you needed LeStrade?" Sherlock's phone bleeped.
SMS: Dinner nearly ready. Hurry up. JW.
"John's making dinner. Why don't you come round to Baker Street?" Greg and Jason accepted the invitation.
John was just setting the table and placing the hamsters in a more secure area, and Tony was draining vegetables in the sink when the front door was kicked open. Whatever Mycroft had been expecting to see, it had not been the little Tableaux of domestic bliss before him. Which somehow made him even madder. John dropped Huggins on the table, who immediately went and hid behind the mustard to watch the show. Hardwicke squeaked with displeasure at being left out of the action.
"How could you? The wedding's off." And Mycroft punched Tony straight in the nose sending him, and a saucepan of peas reeling against the sink.
"What? I only came to see Hardwicke." Tony clutched his nose.
"I bloody well bet you saw someone's hard something!" Mycroft lunged forwards again with murder in his eyes.
"Mycroft? What the hell are you talking about?" John held him back. The larger man struggled but found he was held tight.
"As for you, you little tart. Sherlock was right about you being a prick tease." John was so surprised he let go. And incredibly mad at the wild accusations being flung around when all him and Tony had done was make dinner. And talk about guns and football and Doctor Who. And hamsters.
"Mycroft. What exactly are we being accused of?"
"I heard the two of you earlier. When you accidently dialled my number. Sat on your phone did you Doctor? Very careless. I overheard the whole sordid thing."
"Mycroft. My phone has been on the table all afternoon. No one's been near it except..." John looked at a very guilty looking Huggins. "And I most certainly have not had sex with your fiancé." Upon which revelation the door opened and Sherlock appeared with Greg and Jason.
"Hi John. Is dinner nearly ready?" And Mycroft turned on his brother for round two.