I really need a drink...

[perfectlysteady]

"Most people blunder around this city and all they see are streets and shops and cars. When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield..."

Life seeing the true face of London can be an adventure. Sometimes, however, at the end of the day all one really wants to see is a stiff drink...

Two People Walk Into a Bar
A Glimpse into the

Comments

[di_lestrade]

[Lestrade's had a long day at work--routine stuff, but straddling the line between routine tedium and finding something that his consulting detective could and would helped him sort out was something of a regular but dull feat. Every day that he didn't have to send for Sherlock Holmes was another day that his people respected him a bit more, and it usually meant that the city seemed a bit safer, at least for the moment. Still, it was damned slow and boring.]

[He steps off into a small pub on his way home from work, tense and not sure whether he's waiting for the phone to ring or dreading that it might. He doesn't come in here often, but it's on his way home and he desperately needs a drink. He downs the small glass quickly and clears his throat at the sharp taste and slight burn, and he's prepared to pay and leave when he notices something--someone--familiar in the corner of his eye. He approaches the sofa and stands before John, putting his left hand down into his coat's pocket and extending the other to shake his hand.]

"What brings you here?"

[jumperclad]

[John blinks up at the DI for a moment before remembering that Scotland Yard's not too far off. He gives himself a mental kick for the lapse, and shakes the proferred hand.]

"Nothing in particular- I work just round the corner. GP's office. The babies can get a bit much, you know?"

[di_lestrade]

[Lestrade shrugs and tilts his head a bit in wordless agreement. He smirks a bit and glances at the television set for a moment, thoughtfully, not really thinking about the game at all. He turns his gaze back to John and smiles a bit more as he takes a seat by him, a comfortable distance away, sitting on the edge in case he senses that John doesn't want his company. For all the time he spends with Sherlock, Lestrade realizes that he doesn't really know much about John at all.]

"Kids, yeah. Bit of a handful. My wife's been on about it more and more often as we're getting older..."

[He trails off and makes a face somewhere between a sheepish grin and a grimace, suddenly realizing he could do with another drink. He doesn't move yet to get one, though.]

"...one child's quite enough for me, I think. And you live with him. How's that going?"

[jumperclad]

[John smirks slightly. For all the times he's bemoaned Sherlock's habit of ruining his dates, there's something nice about being single. Well, kind of. Sherlock makes enough demands on him, his time, his belongings and his life in general that he's starting to seem like a jealous partner (which he's not, of course.)

Speaking of which-]

"Alright, I guess. Well, as alright as things can be when you're living with someone who-"

[Wait, no. Mentioning the head in the fridge to a detective probably isn't the best of ideas.]

"-whose optimum time for playing the violin is two in the morning."

[And since Lestrade mentioned it, he's curious-]

"What's your wife's name, by the way?"

[di_lestrade]

[Lestrade smirked a bit at the mention of Sherlock's violin playing. He'd had the... pleasure... of hearing it several times in the past, and he had sometimes wondered why Sherlock found things like that useful when he seemed so completely bent on not doing anything else considered socially pleasant. Sherlock was the source of much of--perhaps most of--the actual confusion Lestrade experience in his life.]

"Elizabeth."

[He said the name with a subtle smile on his lips, thumbing the band around his left ring finger absently. After a moment in thought, he briefly excused himself to the bar and got a pint of beer for himself and one for John, coming back over to the sofa and giving it to him with little fuss made over it.]

"On me. Would be against my civic duty to not help a man sleep through Sherlock's concerto if I'm given half a chance."

[jumperclad]

[John quirks a lip at Lestrade's obvious fondness for his wife. He's seen the man's professional side so many times that something more personal is almost unexpected. Nice, though.

The smile grows on his return from the bar, and he nods his thanks.] You've heard his playing, then?

[di_lestrade]

Yeah. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending upon your perspective, I suppose. Been a lot of strange twists and turns in five years...

[Lestrade's gaze is distant as he takes a single sip from his own pint. His eyes fix on a near-smoldering fireplace, and it seems he doesn't even realize he's being cryptic or even a bit distracted.]