this could be loosely deemed fanfiction but it's essentially 345 words of nonsense. could be gen or light/preslash depending on how much you take seriously. rated g. features Lestrade, John and Sherlock
"Oh for God's sake," Detective Inspector Lestrade says irritably, after Sherlock and John finish a round of particularly cutting banter. "Will you two just get married or something? Please? Make all our lives easier!" He looks back down at the case file he's going through, shaking his head.
Sherlock looks at him and his face folds into an earnest pout, arms crossing over his chest. "There haven't been any interesting murders lately, have there?" he asks.
Lestrade stares, not seeing the relevance of his question. "No…"
Sherlock sniffs thoughtfully, and then says, "John?"
John bends his neck over the back of the leather chair he's sitting on to look at him. "Yeah?"
"You doing anything on Monday?"
"I don't think so… why?"
"Do you want to get married?" The casual tone of voice makes Lestrade spit out tea back into his cup, but John and Sherlock don't seem to notice.
John swivels the chair so he's facing them. "Why not? Haven't got anything better to do. You're paying though."
"You're mad. You're both bloody mad." Lestrade interjects incredulously, but he goes unnoticed.
"Why?" Sherlock asks in response to John, shocked that it should even be suggested
"I bought the milk the other day," John tells him as though it were obvious.
"Since when does buying milk equate to paying for a wedding? Anyway, I was under the impression the social norm was that the bride's family paid for the wedding."
"There is no way I'm the bride of this relationship! And your brother 'is' the British government, can't he swing us one for free? He must have contacts in the wedding industry."
Sherlock laughs once. "He'll love that. Mycroft Holmes, wedding planner. It'll inflate his ego even further, I imagine. "
"Don't talk about my future brother-in-law like that," John admonishes, pointing a warning finger in Sherlock's direction. Then he looks at Lestrade, seeming to remember he was there for the first time since the conversation started. "Best man?" he asks innocently.
"I give up!" Lestrade shouts, walking out of his office. "I give up!"