Sherlock's Transformation (On hold)

Chapter Two

   The sun's dazzling early rays seeped into the bedroom, removing the blanket of darkness as the morning breeze blew dreams into dust. Quiet ruffling sounded from the bed as John awoke, letting out a great yawn and stretching. He opened his heavy eyelids and stared at his clock which was hanging on the wall by the door - 8:18. There was enough time before Lestrade would be over; after all, he was involved in a case last night so would most likely be running late.

  John rolled out of bed, rubbing his eyes and grabbed his mobile from his bed side table, shoving it wearily into his left breast pocket. He shuffled his way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

  Within a matter of seconds, John ran back out, frantically cleaning his teeth. The chest of drawers was snatched open as he ripped his pyjamas off and whipped out the first items of clothing without checking what they would look like together. He quickly ran a comb through his matted hair before launching himself back into the bathroom.

  What happened between then and finally putting the lid onto the teapot was a bit of a blur for John as he had been darting all over the flat making it look presentable during those few minutes. Honestly, could Greg have not given him more notice or come over later in the morning? Ten minutes to get everything together was really pushing it; even for an ex-army doctor.

   "John dear, Detective Inspector Lestrade's here to see you."

   Lestrade's footsteps echoed up the stairs to where John was busying himself with the tea.

  "John I can't stay long -" He stopped at the door to the kitchen, straightening his coat and stood stunned by what he was seeing. John was wearing a pair of green trousers, a blue and white checked shirt and an outrageously coloured Christmas cardigan, all of which were half falling off him. Lestrade was fairly familiar with John's appalling dress sense but never quite realise how bad it actually was.

   "Hi. I can't remember, do you take sugar with your tea, Greg?" John asked, turning his head to look at his friend who was standing phlegmatic in the doorway. He appeared unaware of what Lestrade had said. "Are you okay? You can go and sit inside if you want."

   Lestrade let out a small cough and flinched slightly, snapping out of his daze.

   "Sorry, um... Quite tired from last night. Yeah, milk and one sugar please." He hesitated then proceeded into the main room, slouching into a chair by the fireplace.

  It had been a few months since Lestrade had been at 221B. He had recently been on a well-deserved holiday to escape the routine of work but the restless nights had already crept back to him. The effects of having only six hours sleep at night were finally starting to show: his hair had turned dramatically silver and concentrating had become a laborious task.

  "So how are things around here?" Lestrade asked, picking up and fiddling with a pen.

   John entered the room carry two cups of tea, giving one to Lestrade. He sat down on his favourite chair and took a few sips before replying.

  "You know; same thing day in day out. But better. And yourself?" John peered over the rim of his cup, his eyes beaming, trying to find any happiness to latch onto.

   "Well, I went away to Paris about a month ago but now I'm back it doesn't feel like I've had any time off at all." Lestrade took a gulp of tea. Its smell and warmth radiated through his body reminding him of when he used to see John virtually every day with Sherlock at the various crime scenes.

   "It's the same at the surgery. You have a few days off with no stress then go back and suddenly you feel the pressure again. Mm, you came for the book. I'll run and get it." John said, finishing a mouthful and dashing off upstairs leaving Lestrade in the soulless room.