"There were peanuts ground up and slipped into his soap. He didn't notice the small reaction when rubbing it into his skin, but when he fell back on the nervous habit of sucking his thumb, the reaction closed up his throat, the shock made him lurch backwards and he smacked his head on the wall, cracking his skull and falling out of the chair in the process. The cleaner found him, panicked that they'd be in trouble for his murder, shifted him into the chair, covered the wound with the man's hand so he looked like he was sleeping on the desk, and pretended to never have been here."

Lestrade and John finally blinked and exhaled at the end of Sherlock's deductions.

"Right." Lestrade nodded, stepping away from John as he'd been standing next to him tense and jealous after his earlier encounter, but thankfully Lestrade had remained unnoticed by the lovesick couple. He repressed a shudder at the thought, feeling the green monster grip onto him once more.

"You're bloody brilliant." John said to Sherlock, sighing a little. His tone made Lestrade freeze on the way to tell Donavon Sherlock's deductions so she could write them down. He'd had a bad day, he was leaving as soon as he could.

But he froze.

"It comes naturally." Sherlock replied, his voice kind of sultry sounding… No…

Lestrade spun around just as Sherlock pushed John into a wall to kiss him.

Gregory Lestrade wasn't a violent man. He was a copper, he knew what to do, but he was more of a puppy really.

John's nose gave a satisfying crack as it met Lestrade's fist.

"You do not get away with cheating on Mycroft." Lestrade spat, before storming out, bumping into Anderson in the process and screaming in frustration at the intrusion to his path.

He did not turn around to witness the shocked faces of everyone, including Sherlock, as he left. He did not listen to Sherlock and John call his name. He did not see Sherlock run after him, with John trying to keep up with him whilst holding one hand to his nose, using a tissue to stem the blood flow.

He did, however, see the black cab that pulled up in front of him. And he did see the door close before Sherlock and John reach him, although he had no idea why John was coming after him as he didn't look angry.

He was too busy investigating his knuckles to notice the cabbie reach up to the overhead mirror and adjust it. "Well, Greggie, you look like you've had a long day. This one's free. No charge."

And then the locks on the doors clicked, and Lestrade's eyes interlocked with the man in the driver's seat, and although he'd never met the man, the pure, unadulterated malice in the man's eyes gave away his identity more than the four syllables Greg spoke.

"Moriarty."

I have a mountain of biology work, along with some literature to analyse and some equations to simplify, but of course, look where I ended up.

How are you liking this so far? I have big plans. And big hurdles, but mostly big plans.

A review would be much appreciated, anonymous or not.

See you lot soon.