BBC Sherlock Imagines

Lestrade: Friendly Fire

The bartender finished your drinks and slid them over to you two. You and Greg were at your favorite bar, the place you first met, to watch a big football that was on tonight. You two had been holed up in your little bungalow for the past 24 hours and decided you guys needed some fresh air. Why you came to a bar for fresh air? You had no idea. The air was in fact not fresh, but littered with the smell of smoke and brews and the occasional whiff of greasy bar food.

Greg tapped his fingers against the counter and shifted uncomfortably on his stool. He still hadn't taken a drink of his beer either.

"Do you have to go to the bathroom?" you asked, giving him a knowing look.

"I don't want to miss the start of the game!" he pleaded like a little boy. You checked the clock on the wall.

"You have five minutes, I think you'll make it," you remarked. He began pouting, but at the same time shaking his leg incessantly. "I would really like it if you didn't pee your pants at a bar." He rolled his eyes and looked painfully at the TV. Both teams were warming up and the clock read 4:01 till the game began. "Go," you ordered. He rolled his eyes and kissed you on the cheek as he hopped off his stool and hurried to the bathroom. You shook your head and chuckled. I'm married to a child, you thought. You continued to watch both teams warm up, while simultaneously people watching those around you. You were busy looking off to your left at a drunk woman who was yelling at a chair to get a job and you failed to notice the man come and sit on the stool next to you, and this man wasn't Greg. Once you finally turned back around to face the TV, you were momentarily frightened by the man and his very close proximity to you. He was what they would call tall, dark, and handsome. But by the way he was smirking greedily at you, you might call him something else.

"Hey there pretty. What can I get you?" You motioned towards your drink which you had barely touched.

"I'm good, thanks," you replied. You focused your eyes on the TV, slowly trying to scoot away from the man. You could smell his overpriced cologne and feel the heat of his arm close to yours.

"Well in that case, I'll just wait till you're done to buy you one." You didn't look at him, just took a drink and replied back boredly,

"Oh don't worry about it, it will be awhile." And it really would. You would sit here till closing time nursing this drink if it meant not letting this guy buy you one. You were flattered, kind of, actually not really at all. You just didn't want to be rude and use the "I have a boyfriend and even though he's a softy he'll pummel you need be" card. You prayed he would take the hint and leave. You weren't one for confrontations.

"No, you don't worry, I got awhile." You made the mistake of looking over and allowing him the chance to wink at you. You looked away quickly, and thankfully, found Greg walking towards you hurriedly. He arrived and smiled at you, then turned his attention to the guy next to you.

"Who are you?" Your insides screamed with joy, happy your hubby was here to save the day. You took a sip of your drink, feeling like you were about the watch a movie.

"Who are you?" replied the guy. Greg started laughing and held out his hand for the guy to shake.

"Greg, nice to meet you!" The guy gave him a weird look, but shook his hand anyway.

"Mason," he responded. You set your drink down harder than you meant to and let your mouth gape open. What the hell was he doing? He was supposed to be kicking this guy's arse by now, not kissing it. They both gave you weird looks and you started to say something, but Greg beat you to it.