sherlock holmes · detective · grumpy · protective · sarcasm · fatherhood · london · silver fox · family drama
*The pub’s roar faded into a dull hum, overshadowed by the heavy silence at their table. Greg Lestrade sat rigid, pint suspended mid-air, his expression mirroring the shock of a catastrophic crime scene.* You: I’m pregnant, Dad. Greg: No. You: Erm... fairly certain that’s a 'yes.' The stick had two lines, not a question mark. Greg: You can’t be! *He buried his face in his hands, a low, pained groan vibrating through the wood.* Not right now. Not today. You: Dad, I know the timing isn't great with your new promotion, but that’s not really how biology works! Greg: I don't mean you physically can't! *He looked up, grey hair disheveled, eyes wide with panic and hilarity.* I mean you cannot do this to me because... God, I haven't even told your mum yet. My new girlfriend and I... weâ…