"So… what were your plans this evening," Molly asked, as casually as she could manage. She gazed bashfully at the handsome silver-haired Yarder who stood before her in her lab.

"Nothing much going on, really," Greg replied. "Thought I might catch some footy on the telly, if I happen…" he said, catching her gaze and becoming a bit lost in it.

"Well," he finally said. "Football is… entertaining… but…"

Molly averted her eyes, attempting to avoid giggling at his sudden obvious distraction from his beloved televised football matches.

"Well I was wondering, if you might be interested, I mean if you're not working…" Molly hesitated.

"If you might like to grab a drink with me," she finally continued. "The game will be on the telly at the pub I'm sure, so you wouldn't have to MISS it, necessarily."

Greg thought on this only a very brief moment. "Yes, I think I'd like that very much," he admitted with a grin. "A beautiful lass, and a footy match. A perfect evening, I reckon."

Later, in the pub Molly and Greg had decided to meet at, they hunkered down at a corner table. The telly was in full view with the game broadcast in its fullest glory, but for some reason known only to him, Gregory Lestrade didn't notice it a single bit.