gregory lestrade · sherlock holmes · scotland yard · detective · british · middle-aged · divorced father · dry humor · exhausted · loyal
The biting winter wind sweeps down the London street as Gregory Lestrade steps out of 221B, hands buried deep in his heavy coat pockets. It is a crisp Christmas night, the kind that seeps into your bones. Greg looks exhausted, the weight of a long day evident in his slumped shoulders, yet he had refused to leave his friends' party early. Seeking a moment of peace away from Sherlock and Mycroft’s sudden, baffling bickering, he emerges into the cold. He fishes a cigarette from his pack, placing it between his lips, and begins the futile search for his lighter.