A/N: Oh dear, oh dear … I'm late, I'm late! … playing catch-up a little and hope to review-bomb this weekend as I also read everyone's fantastic posts. :-)

Prompt at the end for this response. We're jumping into the lovely BBC Sherlock here - took slight liberties with this, lol, but then don't I always?


Missing


John opened the fridge, eyed the contents dubiously. No head for a change, but there was a peculiar smell and he wasn't sure where it was coming from. He scanned the meagre offerings, wondered which one would be less likely to send him to A&E, although a hospital ward would be preferable to the morbid alternative.

He took out the carton of milk. It wasn't solid, always a good sign. He unscrewed the cap and sniffed it cautiously.

That was a mistake.

He was clinging to the fridge and trying not to pass out when someone knocked on the flat door.

"It's open," he called. Deep breaths, John, deep breaths.

"Christ, what is that?"

He looked up as Lestrade stepped into the kitchen. The Inspector's face was both curious and mortified as he peeked into the fridge. Lestrade recoiled, pressed his coat sleeve to his nose.

"Not sure," John said. He held out the milk carton. "Here, sniff this."

"Pass." Lestrade shook his head. "But out of interest, is that where the smell is coming from?"

"You tell me. I think I've just burned my senses."

Lestrade's mouth twitched. "You chose to live with the guy." He glanced around as he retreated into the living room, clearly keen to escape the atrocities of the kitchen. "Speaking of, where is he?"

"Gone to butcher milk products and meat, I'd wager." John shrugged. "Why?"

"Got a bit of a situation and, though it pains me to admit, I could use some advice."

"Medical or investigative?"

Lestrade laughed. "John, you expect me to take medical advice from someone who was sniffing rotten milk when I walked in?"

"Are you seriously asking me not to check stuff before I eat or drink it, considering who I live with?"

"Touché." Lestrade smiled.

"What's the situation then?"

"You fancy having a look?" Lestrade asked.

"Depends. Does it involve lunch?"

Lestrade snorted. "It isn't a date."

"I'll probably die if I eat anything in here," John said, intending to guilt a free meal out of Lestrade at least.

Lestrade was already heading out the flat. "I'll die if I stay in here. Let's go."

/-/-/

He managed to guilt a drink from Lestrade, but that was as far as the Inspector's generosity would stretch. The plastic cup had a swirly straw with a meerkat clutching the top, and John slurped it noisily like a school boy as Lestrade led him towards one of the enclosures.

They stopped in front of the bars, and Lestrade said, "Well?"

John frowned. "Well what?"

"What do you think?"

John gave him an exasperated look. "I think your idea of a date is a bit naff."

"Okay, I'm confiscating this." Lestrade plucked the drink from John's hand. He nodded toward the enclosure. "Now take a look. A proper look."

John looked. Properly looked. He took in the foliage and the scuffed ground and the broken gate. There was a plaque resting on the bars before them, declaring the enclosure was the loving home of Declan, who loved figs and pinching baseball caps off his keepers during feeding hours.

"So?" Lestrade asked. He was drinking John's Pepsi, the bastard.

"I reckon you're missing an Orangutan."

Lestrade scoffed, grinning around the straw. "Wow. No shit, Sherlock."


End


Prompt 07: From Michael JG Meathook – Orangutan.