"Thanks for inviting me out to this bar tonight," John said.
"Yeah, well, I thought you might need a break from Sherlock," Greg Lestrade joked, taking a sip of beer.
"Too right," John groaned. "You have no idea. He's been bored all week. 'I need a case, John!' 'Why can't more people die?'"
"He seriously said that?"
"Words to that effect." John took a long drink. "Why can't he just get a hobby like normal people?"
"A hobby? Sherlock?" Both men chuckled.
Suddenly, there was a cheer behind John. He turned around to see a group of men in sports shirts cheering for a team on the telly up on the wall. "Christ, can't those people keep it down?"
"It's sport, John. They have to be loud. It's the universal unwritten law, hadn't you heard?"
"What are they doing, anyway?"
The man closest to John heard the question and turned around. "It's Wasps vs. Harlequins, and the right team's winning! Woo!"
"Which team is the right team?" Greg muttered to John, who snorted into his drink.
The men stared up at the screens for a while. "You know, rugby's always seemed a bit gay to me." Lestrade said.
"How d'you mean?"
"If you think about it, it's basically a lot of big men giving each other hugs."
"And running around after balls."