"Crime scene?" Sherlock asked after breakfast, his eyes lighting up. John didn't have the heart to say no.
When they arrived, Greg was waiting for them. He still gave John a wary eye that made John nervous about what Greg might assume, but he had a generally kind demeanor.
"Good to see you sober," Greg said pointedly to Sherlock.
Sherlock waved a hand dismissively.
"You're not getting out of this completely, Sherlock," Greg insisted. "We're still talking about this later."
"About what?" John asked nervously, thinking Greg was referencing the relationship.
What followed was an intense moment of staring between Greg and Sherlock. John could feel the tension oozing between the two. Apparently Greg risked the threat of the piercing grey eyes because he said, "If he's your boyfriend you should fucking tell him!"
"Tell me what," John demanded.
Sherlock cast daggers at Greg before letting out a sigh. "Lestrade thinks it is pertinent to tell you about my drug habits."
"Addictions," Lestrade cut in.
"Yes, so it's called. He disproves of my drinking last night and judging by the way he's been looking at you he thinks you may be another drug dealer or someone I'm fucking for drugs. However, Gary, I ensure you neither are true."
"Greg," Lestrade corrected. He glanced at John. "Sorry, kid, just looking out for a friend."
John's face was flaming with embarrassment at Lestrade's assumptions. "So what kind of addictions?" he ventured.
Sherlock grimaced. "I find cocaine helps to stimulate the mind," he admitted. "And morphine does have its advantages."
John bit his lip. "And alcohol?"
"He doesn't normally drink, but when he does, he tends to get carried away," Lestrade interjected. "And it's normally a sign of him going downhill."
Sherlock made a disapproving sound. "I am hardly going 'downhill' right now. I was simply on a date. People do drink on dates I believe?"
Lestrade shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes, but it's so hard to tell sometimes with you..."
Sherlock pulled up his sleeve. "Look. Two patches. I'm fine."
Lestrade and John looked at the nicotine patches stuck to the porcelain skin. It appeared to be enough to calm Lestrade's fears. "Alright. Crime scene time?"
Greg stepped beneath the yellow police tape, followed closely by Sherlock and then John. Lestrade held up a hand before John could go any further.
"Hold on, kid, you can't come."
John blinked and looked up at Sherlock for guidance.
"I need him," Sherlock insisted, grabbing John's hand and tugging him along. "Hurry up, John."
"Sherlock, you can't just bring your boyfriend to a crime scene! It's not allowed! Hell, you're not even allowed and it's risky enough letting you on."
Sherlock stopped to face Lestrade with a dead stare. "He comes along with me, or I refuse to help. And we all know you need my help. So many bodies already and no killer caught. Really, people rely on you guys to keep them safe?"
Lestrade wrinkled his nose. "You know, you're a real asshole."
"Yes, I believe I've heard that one before," Sherlock replied, dragging John into the house crawling with uniformed officers.
John was jostled through a crowd of forensics workers, dusting and snapping photos. Lestrade followed behind, verbally guiding Sherlock through the maze of rooms and people. Eventually they reached a room with blood-stained carpet and smashed objects scattered about.
Sherlock stopped abruptly. "Where's the body?"
"The morgue."
"What? Why did you move it before I could see?"
"We couldn't just let a body decay because you were drunk," Lestrade said, exasperated.
Sherlock wrinkled his nose in disdain.
"Your fault, mate. Maybe next time you should keep away from the alcohol."
"Shut up," he grumbled.
Sherlock got to work milling about the room and rambling off scientific facts while simultaneously calling the entire police force stupid. John was intrigued to see him in this environment. He was arrogant and rude and undeniably impressive. His attention to detail was fascinating. It seemed as though Sherlock Holmes saw all the little signs invisible to the normal eye. And the energy surrounding him, brightening his features, making him smile madly... It was all rather seductive to John.
"John," Sherlock called, breaking John out of his reverence.
"Yeah?"
"It's time to see the body." He began striding out of the building, expecting John to follow.
John didn't follow right away because he was stopped by Lestrade.
"If you're another one of his trashy drug dealers I swear to God I will drag you to jail myself and ensure you never see the light of day again," Lestrade murmured in John's ear.
John paled immediately. "I... I'm not a drug dealer. I don't use drugs. I didn't even know Sherlock was a drug addict."
Lestrade scanned the fear in John's face before relaxing his hardened gaze. "Sorry. Yeah, you really don't seem like one. It's just... Sherlock's been through a lot. And despite what he thinks, someone's gotta look out for him. If you notice any strange... changes in his behavior, let me know, yeah?"
John let out a chuckle. "Sherlock's always strange," he admitted. "But yeah, I know what you mean. I'll look out for him, mate."
Lestrade smiled in return before narrowing his eyes again. "How did you two meet?"
John froze immediately, feeling all his blood rush out of his body. He was paralyzed with fear. Did Greg know?
Sherlock popped back in the doorway. "I thought you were following," he said gruffly before noticing John's face. "What's wrong? Lestrade, what did you say to him?"
Lestrade looked surprised. "Nothing. I just asked how you two met."
Sherlock crossed his arms and glared at the silver-haired man. "That's none of your business."
"Christ, Sherlock, it's a basic question. No harm to it."
John exchanged a glance with Sherlock, who seemed more annoyed than afraid. The curly-haired man let out a sigh. "I'd rather keep details to a minimum, in case Mycroft drugs you into spilling any details."
It was Lestrade's turn to look annoyed now. "You don't have to be a paranoid douche, you know. Some people actually do call you a friend although you claim to have none. I ask about you because I care about you Sherlock, though only God knows why. And after Vi-"
"Don't." Sherlock cut off the other man sharply.
"I-"
"Don't say anything more."
"You know what happened. You know what went wrong. I'm just trying to watch out for you this time, so it doesn't happen again."
Sherlock roughly clasped John's hand and pulled him along. "We're leaving."
John cast a sympathetic glance back at Lestrade, looking exasperated and concerned. He could tell the cop only wanted to look out for Sherlock's best interest and protect him. But his words had triggered an unknown anger in Sherlock. John was tempted to ask, but decided against it. He'd have to wait for his boyfriend to calm down and find the right time to discuss a subject that made him so volatile.
Sorry for such a delay! Lots of end-of-school year and work stuff going on right now but it should get better soon! Review please!