A/N: I keep combining prompts! I've never done this on previous challenges, but sometimes seeing two at once really helps spark off ideas for a plot that combines both elements. I'm going to say this is a very vague continuation of 5 and 7, because we finally see Gregson get some form of comeuppance!
From trustingHim17: Fatigue and perhaps a little too much to drink have loosened Holmes' tongue (and possibly Watson's as well). What does he say?
From Ennui Enigma: A costumed party
It is the annual New Years' Eve Party at Scotland Yard, and Lestrade is cursing whoever's suggestion (probably Hopkins) that they have a costumed theme this year. Masquerade. It makes it that much harder to identify those who would rather avoid - i.e Gregson and the Commissioner - when everyone is dressed up in masks. So, rather than relax and ring in the New Year, Lestrade finds himself darting cautiously from group to group and drinking far less than he normally would on such an occasion.
As the party progresses, however, he begins to relax. The Commissioner, he is told by Inspector Jones, has been forced to skip the festivities this year as his wife is heavily pregnant and requires his support at home. Even Gregson's company is made slightly more bearable, now there is no hope of trying to one-up Lestrade's arrest record in front of the boss.
An hour into the festivities, Lestrade leaves his wife chatting with Gregson's (despite the Inspectors' rivalry, their wives get along surprisingly well) and goes to collect them all more drinks. On the way to the bar he spots a familiar figure swaying unevenly in the far corner of the room. He glances around, because usually Holmes would have Watson with him, but can't tell where the Doctor is amongst the throngs of masked individuals. With a resigned sigh, he abandons the drinks and goes to assist the consulting detective.
"Mr Holmes? Are you alright?"
The detective turns from where he has been using an arm to prop himself up against the wall. Beneath his golden, Venetian-style mask, he looks even paler than usual.
"Is that Lestrade?"
Lestrade frowns, because mask or no Holmes should have easily been able to tell who it was. "Yes, Mr Holmes. Overindulged, have you?"
"I do not feel entirely well," Holmes admits sheepishly, still clutching the wall. "You couldn't find Watson for me, could you? He's wearing a mask like mine, I think he was talking to uh..." Holmes trails off and thinks for a moment. "Bradstreet, I believe?"
Seeing Holmes like this actually makes Lestrade like him a little more - perhaps the cold detective is not so invulnerable as he likes to pretend. He pats Holmes reassuringly on the shoulder and goes to find Watson.
It isn't too difficult, Bradstreet's beard making him easily recognisable in the crowd and he is in conversation with Watson as Holmes said. Lestrade apologises to Bradstreet and pulls Watson aside.
"Mr Holmes has had a drop too much I think," Lestrade explains, leading Watson to the corner where he left Holmes. "He asked me to come find you."
Watson sighs. "Holmes is a lightweight at the best of times, and has barely slept or eaten since Mycroft brought him- well, I shouldn't talk about it really. Quite a consuming case, at any rate. It only concluded a few hours ago and I wasn't sure we would make this party at all. Now it would seem we are to leave early anyway."
Lestrade has no clue who Mycroft is, but by now they have reached Mr Holmes and so he earmarks it as a question for another time.
Holmes smiles weakly in apology when he sees his friend. "Perhaps you were right about lining my stomach."
Watson rolls his eyes but takes one of Holmes's arms without further reproach, not desiring to add to the detective's evident misery. Lestrade goes to Holmes's other side and together they support him from the large ballroom.
This year the Yard's party is hosted at The Diogenes Ballroom, a place Lestrade has never heard of before, but which far exceeds venues from years past. As they depart the main function room, he is amazed how easily Doctor Watson navigates what seems to him a maze of twisting corridors. They swiftly reach a small, outdoor courtyard and help bring Holmes to one of the benches there.
He removes his mask with a faint breath of relief as the cool night air sweeps over him. "I did not expect the second glass of champagne to affect me so."
"No wonder, with an empty stomach," Watson chimes, but grasps his friend's shoulder solicitously. "Thank goodness Inspector Lestrade was nearby, or you may have collapsed in front of the entirety of the Yard!"
Holmes blanches at the thought, and turns to Lestrade with renewed gratitude shining from his eyes. "Yes, Lestrade, thank you for saving me that humiliation."
Lestrade is unused to being thanked by the detective, and hardly thinks his actions are worth it. "Any decent man would have done the same. Besides which," he adds, before either Holmes or Watson can insist something to the contrary. "Gregson's been going on about his arrest numbers all night; set to break a Yard record, or some such like. Gave me an excuse to escape from all his gloating."
"Arrest numbers mean nothing when half of his convictions will be overturned in court," Holmes says dismissively as Watson chuckles. "Your convictions stick, Lestrade, because you take the time to follow through and ensure you are arresting the right people. You are by far the better detective."
And if Lestrade was surprised by Holmes's words before, now he is absolutely bowled over by it. Perhaps he should invite the doctor and detective to some of the Yarders' pub trips, if he is to get this sort of praise.
Then again, he thinks as Holmes stumbles shakily to his feet so he and Watson can begin their return to Baker Street, perhaps not. It may be quite some time before the consulting detective feels like drinking again.