"You know you'd be home with Molly and the baby by now, yeah Boss?"
Sally Donovan was tired, out of patience, and irritable as hell.
"Yeah, I would be, but that's not really the point, is it, Donovan?" Greg was equally tired, out of patience, and irritable as hell.
"So then tell me again why it is we're following the Frea…"
Greg cut her off with a steely glare, his dark brown eyes turning a dangerous grey.
"Why we're following SHERLOCK willy nilly with no rhyme or reason?" she amended, with a good measure of reluctance.
"Because he's right far more often than he's wrong," Greg simply explained. "And he's a clever man."
"You're clever too, Greg," Sally protested. "You've solved many a case without HIM."
"WE'VE solved, Sergeant. And yes, without him. Maybe I AM clever, Sally," Greg said, softening his tone. He studied his Sergeant as her own expression softened. "But I'm also clever enough to recognize a cleverer one. And I'm not so vain as to ignore when I need help. When WE need help."
"Fair enough," Sally sighed with resignation. "He may be cleverer than you, but nobody's wiser, I reckon. NOBODY."
Greg said nothing to this, only standing silently, watching Sherlock in action. "That might be up for debate," he finally replied.
Sally smirked playfully. "BOLLOCKS."