Lestrade was currently hunched over a computer display, staring down live black and white CCTV footage from the inside of a bank- hostage situation. He'd only just arrived, and was still getting the rundown of the situation when he noticed something on the screen. He squinted at it, and zoomed in. There it was, clear as day: Sherlock Holmes, kneeling on the floor with his hands behind his back, was a hostage in a bank robbery. And next to him was John Watson.
Lestrade massaged the bridge of his nose with a weary sigh. He couldn't get away from those two if he tried. Donovan appeared over his shoulder and snorted. "You've got to be kidding me. Is that the Freak and his dog? In our hostage situation?"
Lestrade really disliked Donovan's nicknames for Sherlock and John. Sure, Sherlock was an arse, but she was stooping to his level, and John really didn't deserve it. Lestrade sent her a stern look. She tossed her hair, and Lestrade looked back to the display. SC019 was already set up outside, armed and ready.
"Anyway, we have three armed subjects. One waiting by the phone, the two others keeping an eye on the hostages. They each have a handgun, and this one-" She pointed to one of the pacing men. "-has an assault rifle," Donovan informed him.
Someone handed him a phone and told him to make the call. He dialed the number, and everybody in the room went quiet. The phone inside the bank rang, and the burglar near the phone decided to wait a few rings for dramatic effect.
One of the burglars stopped pacing in front of the hostages and moved in closer to the phone, and finally they picked up. "I ain't making any deals, cop," The masked man growled into the receiver.
"Let's just talk, alright? No deals, then. Tell me what you need," Lestrade said evenly. First step was to listen and understand.
"Listen, I know how this works. You're gonna try to talk me down, and we ain't gonna go nowhere but prison. Well, not this time. We're gonna show you that we mean business." There was a pause, and the second man motioned at the one still pacing. He stopped, hefted his assault rifle, and pointed it right at John's head. Lestrade went cold, but neither John nor Sherlock moved at all. "Before we get to our demands, we're gonna pick off one of these poor bastards. Nothin you can do about it, and maybe afterwards you give us what we asks for, cop." He stopped speaking, turned around, and motioned at John's captor, ignoring Lestrade shouting through the phone.
And then, Sherlock lunged forward and twisted, lashing out with his foot to catch the man on the ankle. Lestrade imagined a horrible cracking noise as the man screeched and stumbled, and over the phone, the negotiator shouted something indistinct. John likewise sprang into action, swiping both guns from the man. He pistol-whipped him once across the cheek with the butt of the handgun, and then drove his fist right below the man's ribcage. The masked man dropped like a stone, and before he hit the floor Sherlock pulled him into a rear naked choke and stood up, using him as a human shield as he moved forward.
Idiots, idiots both of them, Lestrade thought, and Sally was making some sort of odd noise right next to his ear.
John had already vaulted over the counter and out of sight. The rest of the hostages looked dumbstruck. Lestrade's whole room was a flurry of motion, and Donovan was making a pained sort of expression that he couldn't quite place. Back on the monitor, John suddenly appeared on the total opposite end of the room, directly behind the last two burglars, and pointed the handgun at the one not holding the phone. The negotiator spun around to face John, and Sherlock dropped his human shield, hefted up a stanchion, and swung it like a bat into his ribs. That man also dropped like a bag of rocks, and the only remaining man slowly put his hands up as streams of curses flowed through the phone's receiver while the negotiator rolled back and forth on the ground.
A swarm of uniformed officers poured in through the doors and started carting off the burglars and assisting the hostages, and as John and Sherlock made their leisurely stroll to the door (while several different SC019 officers shouted at them for being idiots), Lestrade watched as John stood on tiptoe and whispered something in Sherlock's ear. They both started giggling, shoulders shaking, and Lestrade bemoaned the fact that he knew such both wonderful and horrible men.
"What a pair," Lestrade grumbled to himself, and Sally, standing behind him, crossed her arms and tossed her hair again.
"They're gonna get themselves killed one day, you know?" She said, eyes still fixed on the screen. And then, barely visible on the CCTV feed, Sherlock reached down and took John's hand, and then planted the tiniest of kisses on John's temple. The dark haired detective then immediately looked up and away, shoulders squared, and John started laughing again.
Sally pursed her lips, and Lestrade watched as she walked away without another word.
Later that day, as the pair stood and took a very hearty tongue-lashing from Lestrade and half the SC019 force, Sherlock just grabbed John's hand and swung it back and forth, both of them grinning all the while.