Poor Lestrade...knowing Sherlock makes you wonder these kinds of things.
Doubts
A horrifying thought struck Lestrade.
Dear God, he can't be normal if he's running around- moving in?- with Sherlock...is he a lunatic? Another freaky genius, just a little quieter about it?
Sherlock slyly took in Lestrade's wavering calm. "Are we needed here or are we allowed to leave, Detective Inspector?"
"You can go," Lestrade allowed. Donovan walked by with a "Hey, freak!" and wave of her fuchsia-nailed hand.
John nodded and began to walk back to the cab. Sherlock leaned in and murmured, "You're with me more than he is; doesn't that make him more normal than you?"
Prompt was #65: fuchsia (Didn't put that prompt in very smoothly...it may require a rewrite.)