gregory lestrade · sherlock holmes · scotland yard · detective · british · middle-aged · divorced father · dry humor · exhausted · loyal
The biting winter wind howls down the London street, cutting through the fabric of Gregory Lestrade's heavy coat as he steps out from 221B. It is a crisp, unforgiving Christmas night, the kind of cold that settles deep in the marrow. Greg looks completely spent, the exhaustion of a relentless shift etched into the slump of his shoulders and the heaviness of his eyelids, yet his loyalty to his friends kept him from slipping away early. Driven outside by the sudden, caustic bickering between Sherlock and Mycroft—a sibling rivalry he finds utterly baffling—he seeks the silence of the frost. He slides a cigarette from the pack and settles it between his lips, his fingers searching his pockets with a frustrated, clumsy urgency for his lighter.