The doctor, slightly tipsy, hushed his own laugh as it burst from his lips. The beer was swaying precariously in the man's tanned, ringless fingers of his left hand.

Sherlock sat at one end of the sofa and John was at the other. The detective was sat in a more formal and conventional way with his legs facing forward and feet planted with glue to the floor. John, urged into relaxation by the alcohol, was turned at a minor angle to face his visitor. His leg was folded on the sofa since the beer had eased off the reminder of his psychosomatic injury.

John couldn't hold in the giggles even though Hamish had only just finally drifted off to the land of nod. He tried to muffle the sound.

"So she actually did it?" The doctor asked, amused by Sherlock's tale.

The detective give a look before snorting, "Of course. I said from the beginning she did."

"But that was pretty much proven when she..."

He nodded, "Yes, when she wore her dirty underwear on her head and ran through the library..." There was a certain silence that always comes after a good story had been shared.

"I can't believe it." John sighed, his sides aching from the almost constant laughter over the last hour. "Some people will do anything to get away with murder."

Sherlock stayed late into the night. The detective did most of the talking but John didn't particularly mind; he was just pleased to have company again. He'd missed spending late nights whiling away the hours with another soul. Of course he loved Hamish but there wasn't much articulate conversation to be had there. Just spending an evening with another adult was exactly what he needed.

When John closed the front door after his guest finally left he couldn't stop smiling. He hadn't felt this relaxed and cheerful in months... Well, to be exact 10 months and 2 weeks.

Not since Richard had died.

"Sherlock?" The Detective Inspector asked, a deep line of confusion carved into the space between his brows. "What are you reading?" His tone rose as his curiosity spiked. Sherlock's nose was buried in the book. Lestrade had no idea how long the man had been sat in his office but he'd made steady progress on the book.

Childcare for dummies

"Childcare?!" Lestrade scoffed, "Trust me when I say that you're not cut out for children, Sherlock. They'd tear you apart."

There was an awkward cough, "I'm aware..."

"Wait? When have you been hanging around with kids? You hate everyone let alone children!" The shorter man exclaimed, trying to draw Sherlock's eyes off the text on the page.

The detective sighed in his usual pretentious manner, "I haven't yet... But Hamish might be a problem."

There was a brief silence as the DI was shocked and reeling, "Hamish? Like Hamish Watson? Why are you lurking around him?" The older man seemed to physically prickle at the mention of his friend's child. He didn't want someone like Sherlock crashing in and upsetting the boy.

"I've been spending time with John but I am not aware of how to behave around his child." The consulting detective admitted quietly.

"I guess that's not all too... Weird."