AN: Hey. So, I'm bored of watching the Olympics (I don't care what anyone says, watching long distance running is boring.) so you guys get this. It's from a prompt from bumbliebee, which made me giggle so much I had to do it.

Can I ask you guys a favour? I don't want to plug my own work or anything, but I published a story on the War Horse fandom and nobody reviewed or favourited or anything so please go and read it and do stuff.

Please? And I promise to write a chapter for every single one of you. Also review this story. And prompt. I love every single one of you.

Lily

'So, explain it one more time.'

I gave a long suffering sigh and said 'Sherlock, we are going to Lestrade's to watch the episode of BritCops that he is in.'

He nodded with the air of a child learning a basic skill 'And taking the bottle of wine is a social convention, yes?'

'Yes, Sherlock.'

'Why?'I sighed again

'I don't know Sherlock, it's just a thing you do when someone invites you over to their house.'

'Ok, will Mycroft be there?'

'Probably.'

Sherlock scowled and snarled 'Why must that man follow Lestrade around like a stray dog?'

I stared at him in some surprise, it was unusual for Sherlock to be this vindictive and moody. Sarcastic and arrogant yes, but spiteful, not generally. Mycroft and Lestrade's relationship seemed to be bringing out the worst in him, I have no idea why, possibly jealously, possibly a vindictive desire to see his brother unhappy in every aspect of his life. As I finished quietly reflecting on that, I realised we were at the door to Lestrade's flat. Unfortunately, it was one of those horrible housing estate association buildings and, typically, the buzzer was broken. Meaning that we had to lurk in the shadows and ring Lestrade to make him come down and open it for us.

He scowled and practically shoved us through the door 'Honestly you two, you do like to make a dramatic entrance' said Mycroft

'Yeah, you always leave things to the last bloody minute.' Supplied Greg, considerably less eloquently. I was shoved through into the tiny kitchen, still clutching my bottle of Chablis. As the first argument between Sherlock and Mycroft erupted in the living room, Greg joined me and handed me a glass.

'You had twelve seconds didn't you?' he smirked, lighting up. Shortly after the first glass broke, Greg looked at his watch and said 'Come on, five minutes, let's go and calm them down.'

When we had managed to get Sherlock to stop shouting 'Show me the evidence, Show me the evidence!' and Mycroft to stop pontificating on Lamarckian theory, we all settled down on the sofa to watch BritCops.

It started off promisingly with several coppers from the east midlands staring at the camera with terror in their eyes and talking monotonously about a series of robberies committed in boots stores around Birmingham.

Then Greg and Sally Donovan flashed up on the screen. I never ever want to see that particular image again. It is unfortunately ingrained on my memory permanently. Essentially, it was Greg in what is apparently his best suit. Unfortunately, it was bought as his best suit when he was about twenty. I think Mycroft enjoyed the incredible tightness but nobody else did.

And Sally, oh Sally. Where she found her skirt I don't know, but whatever shop it was in, I'm fairly sure it was in the belt section. Combined with an eye-watering corset and slicked down hair, it made me want to rip my own eyes out. Now it makes me want to kill myself but back then, with half a bottle of wine in my bloodstream, it was hilariously funny.

The next scene, after Lestrade had cleared the wine off the TV screen, was a scene with Lestrade and Donovan in a squad car. Mysteriously, Sherlock was grinning rather widely at this point. I really should have guessed.

Because, as Lestrade leaned forward to talk to the camera, he banged his head on the side of the camera and said, with perfect clarity 'Big stupid TV bastards, Fuck you aaaaaallll!'

Silence. And then hilarity ensues. Just after Mycroft fell of his chair and Sherlock started to go blue from oxygen deprevation, Greg, sitting fuming on his sofa, said 'Well thank you all very much.'

And I, to my lasting pride, said 'Piece of cake.'

AN: HUZZAH! Please read and review and go read my other story, remember it's called All The Pretty Horses. REVIEW!