"What-?" The DI began, but Sherlock didn't even move.
"Nevermind." Lestrade sighed, just as the front door opened downstairs.
He glanced back to see John walking up the stairs, and he greeted lightly: "Hey."
"Afternoon." John replied cheerily. "He says you've got a good one, Greg?"
"Oh, yeah." Lestrade agreed, just as Marie walked in.
"Oh, hello, you two." Marie greeted, nodding at Lestrade and John. "Sorry I didn't come out earlier, the babies-"
"No, it's fine, we just got here." John reassured, and Marie asked: "Either of you want a cup of tea?"
"No thanks, I've got a case." Lestrade explained, and Marie nodded at Sherlock's pose in his armchair as she said dryly: "Yes, I can see that. He's doing his thinking pose."
"It's not a pose." Sherlock murmured, finally moving enough to speak, and Marie chuckled: "Of course it isn't."
Turning back to the other two, she gestured for them to sit as she moved to grab Lestrade a chair, but he said quickly: "No, no, I've got it. You shouldn't move around too much when you're a new mother, and with twins, too."
She raised a brow, but just smiled and let Lestrade pull up his chair while John pulled a chair for her – he'd long learnt to stop trying to offer his seat to Marie, for she would never take it. Instead, he passed over the comfortable dining chair to Marie before settling in his armchair as Lestrade sat in his own
Marie settled in her chair beside Sherlock, as Lestrade began the strange tale: "It was David Welsborough's 50th birthday."
"God, 50!" David Welsborough murmured as he kissed his wife lovingly while the party went on in the room behind them. "Where does it go? I know for a fact I was only 21 this time last week."
"Yeah, well, that's impossible." His wife, Emma, teased as she pulled him closer, drawing him into the sitting room and away from the crowd for a quiet moment. "That was before you met me."
"Well, no, no," David protested, "there never was..."
"There never was such a time." His wife finished with him, smiling as he kissed her again.
"She's looking at me disapprovingly again." Emma murmured, glancing to the side jokingly to look at the bust of Margaret Thatcher on one of the sitting room display tables, and David disagreed: "No. She's just jealous."
"Yeah, well, I think we both are." Emma teased, and they grinned at each other when his phone suddenly vibrated.
"Oh..." He started, reaching into his suit for his phone while Emma protested: "No, no, David. Come on, you promised."
"No, it's..." David answered absently as he pulled out his phone and checked it. "Oh, no… Oh, it's a Skype call."
"Oh! Then it must be Charlie." Emma said, perking up. "At least he's phoning, I suppose."
David frowned, focusing on trying to answer the call, before he brightened as his son's face appeared on the screen.
"Oh, look! Hello!" David called, and Emma also smiled as their son, Charlie, grinned back.
"Hey, Dad." Charlie called back. "Happy birthday. Sorry to miss the party, but," his son moved the phone to show them the mountains in the background on the camera, "travel broadens the mind, right?"
The video suddenly froze, pixelating before cutting off
"No! Picture's frozen!" David called, and Charlie answered as the video ended: "Yeah, signal's rubbish. But I can still hear you."
"Why is it rubbish?" David asked, switching the phone to his ear. "Where are you?"
"How is he? Is he eating?" Emma interjected. "Ask him if he's eating."
David hushed her, trying to hear his son, when a voice called: "David? Come on!"
"OK, no, hang on a sec," David called into his phone as a few party guests came over, "I'll find somewhere quieter."
Emma met the guests instead, while David walked away to a quiet spot, asking: "So, Charlie, where are you?"
He was met with silence, and David called: "Are you there?"
"Sorry, I'm here." Charlie answered quickly but rather abruptly, and sounding distinctly off. "I'm just a bit..."
David frowned as Charlie trailed off, and he asked in concern: "Are you all right?"
"It's nothing." Charlie replied quickly. "Probably just the altitude."
"Altitude?" David repeated a little skeptically, and Charlie chided lightly: "I'm in Tibet. Didn't you see the mountains?"
"Never mind mountains." David answered just as lightly. "Your mother wants to know if you're eating properly."
"Listen, Dad, could you do me a favour?" Charlie asked, and David asked curiously: "What?"
"Could you just check something on my car?" Charlie requested, and David repeated in surprise: "Your car?"
"To settle a bet." Charlie explained while David moved to the front door. "The guys here don't believe I've got a Power Ranger stuck to the bonnet. Could you take a photo and send it?"
"Uh, yes, I can do that." David answered as he walked out onto the driveway, where his son's car had been left parked since he'd gone on his gap year trip.
David squatted slightly before the car, carefully snapping the photo, and he grinned as he sent it.
"All done." He told his son. "Have you got it?"
There was no answer, and David called: "Charlie?"
Frowning as he checked his phone, David shrugged when he saw the call had been cut, and headed back inside to his party.
"A week later..." Lestrade added, and John asked curiously: "Yeah?"
"... Something really weird happens." Lestrade informed them, and Marie cocked her head while Sherlock smirked, even as he kept his eyes closed while he listened.
"Drunk driver, he's totally smashed," Lestrade explained, "the cops are chasing him, and he turns into the drive of the Welsborough house to try and get away. Unfortunately..."
The drunk's car went careening into the Welsborough driveway, trying to escape the police. But in his haste, the driver failed to see Charlie Welsborough's parked car until it's took late and he crashes right into the rear at full speed.
The impact burst the gas pipes, causing a leak that instantly caught alight from the drunk driver's heated engines. Charlie's car exploded from the gas, the entire car going up in flames while the drunk's car barely remained intact.
"The drunk guy survived," Lestrade explained, "they managed to pull him out, but when they put the fire out and examined the parked car..."
The flames from the explosion died down to reveal the burnt remains of a human skeleton, sitting in the driver's seat of Charlie's car.
"Whose body?" John questioned, leaning forward intently, and Lestrade looked at him.
"Charlie Welsborough, the son." He answered, and Marie frowned.
"What?" John asked, shocked, and Lestrade explained, his tone as incredulous as John's: "The son who was in Tibet. DNA all checks out. Night of the party, the car's empty, and a week later... the dead boy's found at the wheel."
Sherlock chuckled deeply, and Lestrade grinned grimly as he stated: "Yeah, I thought it'd tickle you."
"Have you got a lab report?" John asked, and Lestrade nodded as he pulled out a file from his bag.
"Yeah." He answered. "Charlie Welsborough's the son of a Cabinet Minister, so I'm under a lot of pressure to get a result."
John bowed his head, shaking it slightly in sympathy, but Sherlock's eyes finally snapped open as he said flatly: "Who cares about that? Tell me about the seats."
Marie pursed her lips unhappily, glancing at Sherlock briefly, while Lestrade glanced up from where he had been flipping through the file while John repeated: "The seats?"
Lestrade handed John the lab report while Sherlock answered: "Yes, the car seats."
He leaned forward, and Lestrade handed him the file for Sherlock to flip through personally. Marie leaned over to read with him as Sherlock murmured: "Made of vinyl. Two different types of vinyl present."
Marie raised a brow, while Sherlock slowly closed the file and asked: "Was it his own car?"
"Yeah, not flash - he was a student." Lestrade answered, and Sherlock muttered as he leaned back in his seat: "Well, that's suggestive."
"Why?" Lestrade questioned, and Sherlock explained: "Vinyl's cheaper than leather."
"Yeah, right?" Lestrade said, clearly confused, when John piped up: "There's something else."
"Yes?" Sherlock questioned as both he and Marie looked over, and John explained as he gestured at the lab report: "According to this, Charlie Welsborough had already been dead for a week."
Marie stilled to the point she looked like a statue, while Sherlock breathed, his lips curving up in an intrigued smirk :"What?"
"The body in the car, dead for a week." John repeated, and Sherlock said delightedly: "Oh, this is a good one. Is it my birthday?"
Marie scowled at him, while Sherlock looked over at Lestrade, questioning: "You want help?"
"Yes, please." Lestrade sighed, and Sherlock countered: "One condition."
"OK." Lestrade said, confused, and Sherlock ordered: "Take all the credit."
John blinked, as did Lestrade, and Sherlock explained: "It gets boring if I just solve them all."
"Yeah, you say that," Lestrade retorted, "and then John blogs about it, and you get all the credit anyway."
"He's got a point." John noted as he handed back the lab report to Lestrade, who continued: "Which makes me look like some kind of…" he searched for a word as he packed away the file, "prima donna who insists on getting credit for something he didn't do!"
Marie's brow lifted, while John leaned back and commented: "Well, I think you've hit a sore spot, Sherlock."
Sherlock looked at him, completely bewildered, and then looked to Marie for help as Lestrade went on: "Like I'm some kind of… credit junkie."
"Definitely a sore spot." Marie noted, and Sherlock wrinkled his nose while Lestrade said pointedly to Sherlock: "So you take all the glory, thanks-"
"Okay!" Sherlock shrugged, while Lestrade continued: "- Thanks all the same. Look."
He sighed as he said helplessly: "Just solve the bloody thing, will you? It's driving me nuts."
"Anything you say, Giles." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes.
The whole room paused, John looking at Sherlock with wide eyes while Lestrade pursed his lips, actually hurt. Marie placed her elbow just against Sherlock's, and he quickly said with a smile to Lestrade: "Just kidding."
Lestrade twisted his mouth, but turned back to packing away his file, and Sherlock quickly mouthed to John and Marie: "What's his name?"
"Greg." John mouthed back, and Sherlock frowned as he mouthed back: "What?"
"Greg!" Marie mouthed for him.
Lestrade looked up then, and the three quickly feigned innocence, and John piped up: "It's obvious though, isn't it, what happened?"
Marie looked at him in surprise while Sherlock commented: "John, you amaze me. You know what happened?"
"Not a clue." John replied easily. "It's just you normally say that at this point."
Marie actually laughed, and John's lips twitched into a smile as well while Sherlock just smiled slightly as he hummed: "Hmm. Well, then.
Sherlock pushed himself out of his chair, Marie doing the same, and he said as he and Marie walked passed Lestrade: "Let's hope you solve your little problem, Greg."
He started to get out of his dressing gown while Marie hid a smile, and she glanced over Sherlock's shoulder to give Lestrade a smile as the DI's eyes widened and his whole face lit up in delight.
"Hear that?" He whispered to John, who replied with a reassuring nod: "I know!"
Lestrade beamed at Sherlock's back while John nodded at Marie, who winked surreptitiously back at him.
"You bastard." Marie murmured to Sherlock from the corner of her mouth so Lestrade wouldn't see, and Sherlock murmured back: "Well, I can't help it if I can't remember his name."
"You're lucky he still cares about you." Marie noted. "And that you have me and John."
"And that's all I need." Sherlock answered, when a cry sounded from the bedroom.
"Uh, oh." John noted while Marie sighed.
Sherlock glanced at her, but she shook her head, shooing him out as she said: "I've got it."
She popped off to check on the babies and Sherlock paused for a moment longer before he walked out to grab his suit jacket, while Lestrade shook his head and said: "That like you, John?"
"Hm, remarkably similar." John agreed, and Lestrade questioned: "But how is it going generally, fatherhood?"
"Oh, good, great." John answered. "Yeah, amazing."
"Getting any sleep?" Lestrade asked slyly, and John replied instantly: "Christ, no."
"You're at the beck and call of a screaming, demanding baby," Lestrade commented, "woken up at all hours to obey its every whim."
He looked at Sherlock pointedly as he added sarcastically: "Must feel very different..."
Sherlock paused in the middle of buttoning up his suit jacket, and he asked: "Sorry, what?"
John meanwhile chuckled, and he commented: "Yes, well, you know how it is. All you do is clean up their mess, pat them on the head."
"Are you two having a little joke?" Sherlock questioned, frowning in confusion, while John went on: "Not sure how Marie manages all of it."
"With difficulty." Marie replied jokingly as she appeared in the doorway, carrying Scottie. "But, when you love them, what can you do?"
"Hm." John hummed, while Sherlock frowned at her as well.
"What?" He asked, but Marie just smiled angelically as Lestrade chuckled while he turned and walked down the stairs, saying: "Anything else in common between your babies?"
"Never sleeps at reasonable times." Marie sighed as she rocked Scottie while they all walked down the stairs, and John sighed: "Never a word of thanks. Can't even tell people's faces apart."
"This is a joke, isn't it?" Sherlock questioned, cocking his head in confusion as he brought up the rear.
Lestrade just went on, ignoring Sherlock: "Yeah, and it's all, 'Oh, aren't you clever. You're so, so clever'."
"Is it about me?" Sherlock asked as they reached the entrance hall, and Lestrade said 'under his breath': "I think he needs winding."
"You know, I think that really might be it." John commented as he grabbed his coat, and Marie laughed as Sherlock frowned before he stated: "No, don't get it."
"Don't worry too much about." Marie replied, patting Sherlock's cheek.
His eyes narrowed, but she just shook her head in amusement as she said: "Go on, now. You want to look clever – go be Sherlock Holmes."
Sherlock rolled his eyes, though he regained his smirk. But Marie took his arm, retaining his attention as she added seriously: "But try to be nice to the parents. They just lost their child."
She gestured to Scottie in her arms, and Sherlock's gaze softened, though he retorted: "Sentiment contaminates the clarity of hard logic."
"But it can also bring intuition and insights into situations where logic is not enough." Marie reminded him.
"I'll try to keep that in mind." He replied. "I'll be back before bedtime."
He nodded at Scottie, and Marie nodded.
"Be safe, you three." She called after them all as Sherlock rejoined Lestrade and John outside the front door.
They waved back at her, and she waved Scottie's hand back at them, earning three smiles, as the trio of men turned and left in a cab.
