Lestrade
Lestrade’s POV
It was a cold, winter day in London and I was driving to Bakers Street to give Sherlock some cold case files at John’s request. I could have sent someone else to go but I’m bored, with the lack of cases and I’m avoiding the paperwork on my desk. I also wanted to make sure the files got to Baker Street, today, as if I’m bored then Sherlock must be going spare and driving John mad.
I shiver in my police car and turn up the heater. As I look up I see a man in a thin green linen shirt and leather trousers. He appears to be cold, tired and by the looks of him waiting by the bins of a restaurant, hungry.
Well, I am in a police car and I have nothing better to do, I should find this man some help. I pull over and get out the car.
“Hey,” I call to him and his head shoots up; he plays with a gold band on his finger. Divorced, I note, the poor man must have lost everything.
“Why don’t you get into the car and we can find where you need to be?” I say and the man looks confused.
“Why would you help me when everyone else just tries to steal from me?” his green eyes measure me up as he speaks like a well-educated man – he really has lost everything.
“I’m a police officer, it's my job to help people,” I explain in a light tone and open the back door of the car for him. “Coming?” I ask and the man sighs but gets in.
Once we’re driving again I start talking to him.
“So what’s your name?” I ask.
“Loki.” he replies shortly.
“Loki? Nice name, I’m Greg, Greg Lestrade,” I say watching him in the mirror. I watch the road again when I realise I’m not going to get a reaction. So he doesn’t trust people I note.
I try again,
“Aren’t you cold out in just a shirt?”
Silence.
“Loki?”
Stopping for traffic and turn around to find the man has fallen asleep across the back seat, I look back at the road. Turning the corner – I pull up outside Bakers Street. As I do a cab pulls up in front of me coming from the other direction. The detective duo get out of it.
“John! Sherlock!” I call, as I get out of my police car. John comes over, after paying the cab, while Sherlock unlocks the front door, “I’ve got those files you wanted.”
“Oh great,” John says brightening and turns to Sherlock, “Come here and carry some case files you lazy arse.”
Sherlock sighs but comes over. I open the passenger seat and grab the pile of files, which I pass to John. I then go to give the second pile to Sherlock but find he’s gone. I see John walk to the back of the car and I follow him, where we find Sherlock watching Loki.
“Who is this?” he asks and I shove the files into his arms, surprising him.
“Loki, some divorce-y, I found him freezing on the streets, so leave him to sleep,” I say and then move to get back in the warm police car.
“Ok, not recently divorced though, no tan line on his hand,” Sherlock mutters still watching Loki, “Keep me informed on him,” he says louder and then he has the cheek to walk away.
“Keep you informed? Do you know how many rules I am breaking right now giving you these files and now you want me to phone you about this poor homeless man!” I protest.
“Yes,” Sherlock said simply, “Good day Detective,” he says and he goes inside.
“Just call me if you have time,” John compromises with a sigh and follows his friend.
“For God sake!” I mutter to myself starting the police car and heading for Scotland Yard. “Only, for Sherlock bloody Holmes.”
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