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fic: Close Analysis (4/4)

Chapter 4

The Doctor Is In

 

 

Bloody Watson...

 

Lestrade's vision is still blurred and his head is swimming but he doesn't have to be able to see to know that John Watson is standing there glaring at him and Sherlock entangled on the sofa, Lestrade with his pants down and his cock out. And that, presumably, Watson must also have seen Lestrade's hand wrapped around Sherlock's hand wrapped around Lestrade's cock. Lestrade promises himself a good long think about all that when he gets home. With a different ending. One involving John bloody Watson tied up in a cupboard somewhere so he can't interfere.

 

This isn't really one of those times when you can say It's not what it looks like.

 

Meanwhile, the mother and father of a row has kicked off between Sherlock and JW.

 

You stupid fucking egomaniacal exhibitionist!” Watson yells. “Can you not even be bothered to shut the fucking door before you start having sex on the fucking sofa? Mrs Hudson might have come in. Anyone might have come in.”

 

This is true enough, as far as it goes.

 

Mrs Hudson is out for the day,” Sherlock says, sounding understandably defensive. And, Lestrade notes, not immediately counter-attacking. Which is interesting, if a bit depressing.

 

And me? What about me?” Watson is still yelling. “Do I not fucking well count at all? Do I not even register on your scale as a human being, for fuck's sake? Or do you really not give a flying fuck about anyone?”

 

Saying fuck a lot as well, Lestrade notes. Hmm.

 

You were out,” Sherlock says, sounding almost apologetic.

 

Yes, I was out. And I came back. To find – this.” JW sounds as if there isn't a word in the dictionary bad enough to describe what Sherlock and Lestrade were doing on the sofa. It sounds almost as if he's vomiting up the words. Isn't, of course.

 

At this point Sherlock starts shouting as well.

 

How was I supposed to know you were coming back? You're out all the time these days!”

 

Great. Not only does Lestrade not get to come, he now has ringside seats for a lovers' tiff.

 

Is this because of what happened the other night?” Watson demands. So he had noticed. Interesting.

 

Sherlock's gone from shouting to icy contempt: “That is a ridiculous suggestion and utterly beneath you.”

 

Watson splutters. Lestrade doesn't blame him. Still wants to put him through a plate-glass window though. Rather more so now.

 

Sorry – who – utterly beneath me? Remind me again, which of us is it who's having weird sex on the sofa with the door open?”

 

Jealous, Lestrade thinks. Right. Good news for Sherlock. Not such good news for Lestrade.

 

Sherlock reverts to shouting: “If my behaviour is so abhorrent to your pitifully conventional little mind, may I suggest that you fuck off back to your girlfriend?”

 

Girlfriend? Didn't mention that before. Could be a complication, Lestrade thinks hopefully.

 

Yes, I'm sure that that would suit you down to the ground!” Watson snaps. “I hope the two of you will be very happy together.”

 

Me too, thinks Lestrade. Won't happen though.

 

Sherlock is still ranting and becoming a little bit too abusive really. His words are tumbling over each other so it's a bit difficult to make them all out but Lestrade is fairly sure that self-righteous prick and miserable fucking Puritan were in there somewhere. Much as Lestrade doesn't like Watson, there are limits.

 

Come on, Sherlock,” he says, “you know that's not - ”

 

Don't try to be intelligent, Lestrade, you're just embarrassing us all,” snaps Sherlock.

 

And loses half his audience, just like that.

 

John Watson slams out of the room, stomps up the stairs and slams his bedroom door (at least, Lestrade assumes it's his own door he's slamming) so hard that the whole of 221b Baker Street shakes.

 

Well.

 

Lestrade takes the opportunity to rearrange himself and get properly dressed again. One way to get rid of an erection that he hadn't thought about. Suspects Sherlock hadn't either, otherwise the stupid fucker might even have locked the door, never mind shut it. What you get for behaving as if the world revolves around you and other people don't really exist, he supposes.

 

Thing is, the blasted Watson is the first person Sherlock has ever really noticed does exist. So it's a bit of bad luck for Sherlock.

 

Not that he doesn't deserve it, of course, after what he just did to Lestrade.

 

Lestrade thinks about doors, locks, and door-slamming. He remembers some fancy psychology book he read in his youth as part of his self-improvement efforts. He's forgotten most of it, but he remembers the door-slamming has something to do with saying You're Not Allowed To Fuck Me Even Though I Know You Want To. Thinks this is quite an interesting message for John Watson to be sending, if that is what it means, since he's not absolutely sure that Watson is gay. Or gay yet. Wouldn't that be just Lestrade's luck? On the sidelines as a confidant while Sherlock gets put through the wringer by a confused straight man. I can hardly wait.

 

Anyway, the door-slamming seems like yet another sign reading Good News For Sherlock, Bad News (Again) For DI Lestrade. There's no justice.

 

Lestrade looks at Sherlock, who is slumped in the armchair. Now that he's not fighting any more he looks woebegone again.

 

And we're back where we started. Bloody marvellous.

 

Lestrade is not going to go through all that again. Apart from anything else, he thinks he might have a coronary if he has to repeat the last bit.

 

Look,” he says, “I can't stand the guy, but you do know you're in with a chance there, don't you?”

 

Really,” says Sherlock. Sounding flat and drained. Then, slightly more hopefully, “Really? Based on what?”

 

Lestrade could have sworn his libido had left the building, but this seems not to be the case. He considers worrying about the fact that he fancies Sherlock almost more when he's like this than when Sherlock is his usual obnoxious self, and whether this means that he's perverted or just that he should start reading up on S/M. Decides to worry about that later.

 

Sherlock is looking expectant and slightly impatient that Lestrade hasn't yet answered his question.

 

Well?” he demands.

 

Obvious,” says Lestrade. “Sticks out like a sore thumb. So to speak.”

 

Sherlock glares. This is no laughing matter.

 

Lestrade shakes his head wonderingly.

 

You really are completely fucking impossible, you know,” he says.

 

I know,” Sherlock says. He grins.

 

His powers of recovery really are alarming, like a drooping toddler who's suddenly had a big sugar hit.

 

Alarming but not unpromising, Lestrade thinks, cheering up a bit himself. Maybe the afternoon isn't going to be a total washout after all. Nothing like a good fuck after a massive row, even if the person you're fucking isn't the one you had the row with.

 

Lestrade reckons he's got half an hour, tops, before bloody Watson stops sulking and comes downstairs to see if Sherlock would like a nice cup of tea. Man like that has no staying power. And if these two are going to get it on – which, much as he hates to admit it, they probably are – Lestrade may not get another crack at this particular gorgeous fucked-up posh boy for a very long time. Or at all.

 

So he'd better get a move on.

 

Putting on his best DI voice, the one he keeps for crime scenes and real emergencies, he barks:

 

Will you lock that bloody door, Sherlock, for fuck's sake! NOW.

 

Slightly to both their surprise, Sherlock does so.

 

Right,” says Lestrade. “Now get over here and finish what you started, and do it properly this time.”

 

He's bluffing of course, just chancing his arm really.

 

But sometimes bluffing works.

 

 





Chapter 3: Clinical Observation

 

Comments

( 8 comments — Leave a comment )
how_to_shine
Sep. 27th, 2010 07:36 pm (UTC)
wow, awesome chapter...poor Lestrade!
fengirl88
Sep. 27th, 2010 07:38 pm (UTC)
thank you so much! he does get a proper happy ending eventually in my 'verse, but not with Sherlock and not in this fic...
et_cetera55
Sep. 28th, 2010 08:48 pm (UTC)
Aww at least Lestrade got something!
(Gorgeous gorgeous fic!)
fengirl88
Sep. 28th, 2010 08:55 pm (UTC)
thank you so much! *beaming*

really happy you liked it so much.

this ending was the best I could do for him at this point...
alextree
Mar. 30th, 2011 05:28 am (UTC)
gah! it ended!
fengirl88
Mar. 30th, 2011 05:01 pm (UTC)
thank you - yes, it did! but there's a bit more about what happened after the end, narrated through Sherlock's flashback (in the second part of In Transition).
maggie_conagher
Jun. 16th, 2011 09:17 pm (UTC)
love the story, love the avatar, starting to love Lestrade.

He cares so much more than he wants to and not just about the sex.

sympathy hugs all around.
fengirl88
Jun. 17th, 2011 07:18 pm (UTC)
thank you - very glad you do! although this story started as a bit of nonsense about Lestrade being secretly Scudder from Maurice (as in this eumelkeks icon), I got very fond of Lestrade as I was writing, and have gone on getting fonder of him ever since. I'd originally imagined that he would exploit Sherlock's unhappiness in order to get Sherlock into bed with him, but found I couldn't make this Lestrade do that.
( 8 comments — Leave a comment )

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