Christmas at the Yard
Office Party - 11 Dec 12
Lestrade knew better than to mention the office party in Sherlock's presence. He'd simply been incautious and let it slip. If there had been a case on, it would have been fine. A busy Sherlock is a happy Sherlock. A bored Sherlock crashes holiday parties at the Yard with the intent to deduce the most embarrassing fact possible about every person in attendance.
Consequently, Lestrade spent the evening trying to avoid him. It was a game of cat and mouse where the cat had a sixth sense and the mouse was drunk. In other words, it was doomed to fail.
Eggnog - 14 Dec 12**
Perhaps, considering his intentions, the eggnog had been a poor choice. Or that's what Lestrade would have thought had he not, in fact, consumed too much of the rich, rum-laden beverage already. As it was, all he thought when Sherlock inevitably cornered him at the office holiday party was, 'Bugger.'
"Ah!" exclaimed Sherlock, a wicked gleam in his pale eyes. "There's Silverfox."
Lestrade winced. Naturally, it was too much to hope that Sherlock had dumped that bit of data from his cache.
"I was avoiding you."
"Doomed to failure. Any oracle could have told you that. You didn't need me."
Full Dress Kilt* - 31 Dec 12
"You're off to Edinburgh after the party, I see," said Sherlock.
Lestrade sighed over his drink. "I'm going to regret this, but why would you say that?"
Sherlock nodded towards Lestrade's darkened office, backlit enough from outside for the shape of a garment bag to be just discernible.
"You're either leaving straight from here, or didn't have time between work and this party to take the bag home. I assume you've hired it."
"What's he hired?" asked John, joining them.
"The full dress kilt Lestrade's taking to Edinburgh," Sherlock explained happily.
John grinned, playful from too much eggnog. "That would be a sight."
"One you won't see," declared Lestrade. "It's not my idea, but there it is."
"Your lady friend's, I take it?" asked Sherlock.
"Afraid so. There's a formal ball on New Year's Eve, and I've got just enough Macgregor in my family tree to lay claim to the plaid. I'd've got it once I was there and neither of you would have known, but I didn't plan ahead well enough."
"It's right there and you're not modelling it for us?" complained John. "That's disappointing."
"If it were up to me, I wouldn't be wearing it at all."
"Bit chilly for that, this time of year. Wearing nothing at all, I mean."
"You're drunk, John."
John nodded. "Yup. Little bit."
*Prompt from methylviolet10b.