A/N: Continuation of Chapter 5.
From Book girl fan: Fire
Gregson is not sure what exactly he expected when the telegram came from Lestrade asking for urgent back-up at Lord Burling's estate. It certainly wasn't this.
"What in God's name happened to you?!"
Lestrade is sandwiched between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, all three men swathed in duvets upon a sofa that has been pushed as close as possible to the living room fire of Burling's home. Lestrade's face is bright red, which Gregson imagines is as much due to embarrassment as it is heat. Holmes and Watson are both dead to the world, and Gregson is shocked to discover that the consulting detective snores.
"Don't wake them up," Lestrade mutters, not meeting Gregson's eyes. He has no doubt rightfully guessed that this will be the talk of the Yard tomorrow. "They've only just stopped bickering long enough to fall asleep. Doctor Renard said we should sit like this to share body heat."
Gregson tries and fails to hide a smile. "Went for a dip, did you?"
"Not out of choice." Lestrade closes his eyes, mortified. "You couldn't tell the constables to stay out of this room, could you?"
"Sorry, I really couldn't," Gregson answers cheerily, and leaves the room whistling happily to himself.