"We have to get to Gregson first. How dare he blackmail Scotland Yard!?" Lestrade was thinking out loud again. I needed another round of IV fluids and for the room to stop spinning.
"I thought you said he wasn't a psychopath?"
"That was before all this!" he shouted.
"You should have thought of that before you went and did… it!"
"It meaning?"
"Sex, you idiot!"
"How was I supposed to know?"
"Don't tell Sherlock!" I mimicked Gregson.
"He wanted to work with you on a case! I thought he admired your talents and didn't want it to get in the way of things… it sounds stupid now but then…"
"But then you wanted in his pants," I finished for him.
"I'm not some sex fiend!" he argued.
"Tell that to the papers and the magistrate! This is the definition of conflict of interest! I'm basically a sex worker now; hired by the police under the guise of solving murders, but NO I'm secretly being paid to sleep with one of their higher-ups!"
"I didn't pay you for sex, I paid you for consulting work."
"See how that statement holds up in court."
"Oh my God, we're in such trouble. I knew this would happen someday…" he ran his fingers through his hair.
"It's not the first time your cock has gotten you into trouble; it won't be the last."
"I'm going to be ruined by this. How could I let this happen?"
"You, be ruined by this? How can I be a consulting detective when the detective I'm consulting is shoving his cock down my throat?"
"You liked it!"
"It doesn't matter! You destroyed my life!"
"It was purely consensual. You kissed me first!"
"That doesn't imply consent."
"Should I be hearing all this?" Mrs. Hudson asked from the corner.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hudson. I'm so worked up… I forgot you was there…" Lestrade said.
"Does John know about all this?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
"No," we said in unison.
"Should I be the one to tell him?" She asked.
"No," we said in unison once more.
"You boys do get in some sticky spots," she commented.
We groaned.