Fantastic Seduction, Deduction what?
What?
hehehe!! fantastic deduction!!
Damn it Sherlock stop trying to confuse me!
(via gelierzucker)
John: She said she’d have you on the desk until you begged for mercy, Sherlock. Our desk.
Sherlock: I’ve never begged for mercy in my life, John. As I informed Miss Adler.
John: Irrelevant. The floor, Sherlock. Now.
(via ilovemyjawn)
“Oh… is that so?” He nodded and took another sip of his beer then looked from one to the other then down at the table. “Well then, this is not awkward at all~ What do you blokes want to talk about then?” As he spoke, he scanned the room and locked eyes with Mary, then smiled at her.
Lestrade snorted at Sherlock’s face after he took a large swig of his beer. He took another drink of his own, not really sure what to say.
He finally decided to ask the question that had been plaguing him. “So, Sherlock. Where the hell have you been?”
“Undercover, in a way,” Sherlock replied. “Not in any one place, really. I’ve been hunting down the snipers that were set in place to kill you two and Mrs. Hudson. I’ve still one left, but,” Sherlock let his sentence trail off as he picked up John’s beer and sipped it. He made a thoughtful expression and tried his again before putting them both down and leaning over John to grab Lestrade’s drink and sipping it as well before putting it back down in front of him and sipping his own again.
He had heard the story already, so he didn’t feel the need to comment and just watched the reactions of Lestrade to what Sherlock was telling him. Occasionally he zipped his drink and stared at the bruise on Sherlock’s face, or at those lovely legs of the waitress, alternating between the two. He was about to grab his drink again when Sherlock beat him to it, John watched as he took a zip of it and put it down, then took a zip of Lestrade’s. He gave an annoyed glare, but didn’t really care, Sherlock did this to him all the time anyway.
Lestrade nodded when John said that the bitter they were drinking was the best they had. He took a sip of his own, feeling it slide down his throat. He never really drank much at his nights out with John, the two of them just kind of talked.
“Not really.”
Sherlock squinted at his drink before scrunching up his nose and taking a big gulp of it. He grimaced slightly and put his drink back down.
“It’s not… awful,” he commented. He turned his head and looked at them when John commented. “Oh, no, we’ve been texting for days.”
As soon as this escaped his mouth, he somehow felt that maybe this was something he should have brought up sooner, or not brought up at all. He mentally shrugged it off.
“Oh… is that so?” He nodded and took another zip of his beer then looked from one to the other then down at the table. “Well then, this is not awkward at all~ What do you blokes want to talk about then?” As he spoke, he scanned the room and locked eyes with Mary, then smiled at her.
Lestrade felt bad for punching Sherlock, he really did, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Sherlock had just looked a little dejected when he left, and it made Lestrade feel just a little worse.
“Gregson’s coming into his own, I suppose. Anabelle’s speaking to me, so that’s just as good if not better.” Lestrade shrugged. He didn’t really have much to say.
Sherlock worked his way back to the pair slowly, kind of wishing he had thought to bring an ice pack with him, as he knew it was coming, anyway. He sat down in his chair and scrunched up his nose a bit as the drinks were placed in front of them.
“Is this stuff good, then?”
He took one of the beer bottles and took a swing from it, letting the bitterness of it invade his throat and wash away much of what he was feeling. It felt good, and he hated it that it felt so good. It had felt good for Harry too at the beginning, he really did not want to end up like her.
He shrugged at Sherlock’s question and took another zip. “Bitter then it turns sweet, try it. It’s the best they’ve got, foreign. Now… I’m guessing you two have things to discuss~”
Lestrade looked at Sherlock in mild surprise, not really expecting him to get a pint for himself. He looked at John, thinking for a moment before answering.
“I’m fine, managed to convince Gregson to take on a case, and I saw my daughter this week. How’re you?”
Sherlock watched John fidget and very nearly pouted when he looked away. He saw Lestrade’s look of surprise before deciding he didn’t care about either of them and stood up.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he told them before taking his coat off and shoving it into John’s hands. He walked to the lavatory quickly, swinging the door open and scaring the one guy in there who was sloppily washing his hands. Sherlock didn’t spare him more than a glance before in looking at his cheek in the mirror, pressing it lightly and wincing. Yeah, it was going to leave an awful bruise. It was swollen already.
He caught the coat before it fell to the ground and put it around the chair, groaning. The guilt he felt was back on his mind again, Sherlock’s cheek was red, almost purple… his doctor instincts were not happy about that. He sighed and rubbed the space between his eyes and looked at Greg again, giving him a small smile.
“So Gregson! case, that’s brilliant! That’s good Greg, slowly but surely right?”
John made a small sign with his hand to the waitress and smiled at her widely when she got there. She commented on his new friend and he complimented her new dress. It was pretty.. and maybe a bit short.
“The usual Mary please~ A round for all… oh wait..” He turned to look at Sherlock “Do you want anything?”
Lestrade smiled at her as well, agreeing with John that it was quite pretty, if a little short on her. He wasn’t on the pull, he just wanted a few pints with the boys. Looking expectantly at Sherlock, he guessed that he more than likely wasn’t going to be drinking anything but water after how hard Lestrade had punched him.
Sherlock spared a glance at the waitress, signing her off as an attention seeker.
“I might as well,” Sherlock muttered, wishing he could clean the bar top just so he could rest his head on it.
“A round for the three of then, My dear. Thank you~”
He was tempted to reach forward and touch Sherlock’s cheek, see if Lestrade had made much damage. He felt the detective deserved that punch, for worrying Lestrade as much as he worried him, among other things; but he had to admit he didn’t like seeing him like this, hurt, never again. Reaching forward would get awkward and Greg was here, it wasn’t only the two of them; so he didn’t, instead fidgeted on his seat and turned his gaze away to Greg.
“You alright Greg?”
He stepped over Sherlock’s body and sat at the chair opposite to Greg, then shook his hand, and patted him on the back.
“Evening Greg… and thanks I guess.” He looked down at Sherlock and gave him an almost apologetic smile. “What are we having tonight?”
Lestrade just ignored Sherlock, sitting back down. “I was thinking just a couple of pints of our usual bitter and whatever else strikes our fancy.” Glancing at Sherlock’s prone form, he gave a slight smirk and an amused laugh.
Sherlock let his head stop spinning before attempting to stand again. He brushed himself off and pressed his cheek for a second before sitting down quietly next to John.
John made a small sign with his hand to the waitress and smiled at her widely when she got there. She commented on his knew friend and he complimented her new dress. It was pretty.. and maybe a bit short.
“The usual Mary please~ A round for all… oh wait..” He turned to look at Sherlock “Do you want anything?”
“Yes he is, and I will do nothing to stop him.”
He opened the door of the pub and once inside searched the establishment with expert eyes. The corner he and Lestrade shared was on the left hand side and a dark figure was already there. He waved hello to the waitress that usually served and walked to their table.
“Greg~”
“Ah, John. Welcome.” Lestrade stood up to greet him and spotted Sherlock following behind. “Evening, lad.”
Lestrade gave Sherlock a vaguely unamused smile and reared back and punched him.
“That was for leaving John for three years.”
Sherlock gave a long-suffering sigh as soon as Lestrade’s eyes fell on his. The punch was harder than John’s, surprisingly, and Sherlock ended up on the ground after half falling onto a table and rolling off. He sat up and gaped slightly at Lestrade.
“E-ello,” he croaked out before attempting to stand up, only to get dizzy and fall right back on his ass.
He stepped over Sherlock’s body and sat at the chair opposite to Greg, then shook his hand, and patted him on the back.
“Evening Greg… and thanks I guess.” He looked down at Sherlock and gave him an almost apologetic smile. “What are we having tonight?”
