Sherlock fic - A Policeman's Lot

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I wrote this today, then wandered through my flist and discovered that I *almost* answered a prompt that I didn't know had been given. In sherlockbbc, ladyprydian gave the prompt: "I pickpocket him when he's being annoying - one day Sherlock pickpockets something from Lestrade that he really shouldn't have."

Talk about a coincidence! My story is actually about the line Sherlock says in A Study in Pink. They've just stopped a cab containing a tourist, and Sherlock flashes a policeman's warrant card (ID) at him. It turns out to be Lestrade's, and Sherlock tells John: "I pickpocket him when he's annoying. You can keep that one, I've got plenty at the flat." I suddenly wondered what Lestrade thought about that. So...

Title: A Policeman's Lot (title from Gilbert and Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance)
Author: Arnie
Rating: PG (swearing)
Genre: Humour
Characters: Greg Lestrade
Word count: 429 words
Disclaimer: Not mine. ::sniffle::
Summary: Lestrade's in his office and makes a discovery.

Author's note: Police IDs are referred to as warrant cards.



Greg finally finished typing up his report and hit save before embarking on the spell-check. Even after the spell-check was done, he'd have to read through his report to avoid any embarrassing mistakes. Hodgeson was still being teased over his report which referred to the 'genital public' instead of 'general'. God knew what he'd been thinking while he was typing that.

"Give me good old-fashioned pen and paper any day," Greg muttered as he fixed yet another mistake the spell-check had highlighted. There were days when he felt more like an admin assistant than a copper. Finally, it was done and he hit 'print', taking a moment to stretch his back before standing up. If the printers weren't down (again) he might actually get home before seven o'clock. Greg couldn't remember the last time that had happened.

He gave vent to a quiet, triumphant, "Yes!" as the aged printer in the corner rattled into action.

The report printed, he shoved it into the folder and dropped it in his out tray, then swung around and grabbed his coat, shoving his arms into the sleeves and yanking it impatiently into place. Out of habit, he checked the contents of all of his pockets. Wallet, check; keys, check; phone, check; warrant card... He frowned. He could have sworn he'd put it - okay, maybe the other pocket. Nope, not that one. Nor that one. Nor that one.

Greg sighed and went through every pocket he had. Not again. There was no way - Sherlock hadn't even stood near him at the crime scene. "This is the fifth time this month!" he said to himself. Clinging to hope, he went through all his pockets again, in case he'd missed it on the first run through. Nope; he definitely didn't have it.

Greg knew where it was though - and he didn't need Sherlock bleeding Holmes to investigate that crime. That lanky genius with the soul of a pickpocket had stolen Greg's warrant card again!

Growling to himself, Greg grabbed his phone and sent off a quick text: Stop stealing my warrant card!

Less than thirty seconds later, he got a reply: Well stop annoying me. SH

Greg's fingers hovered over the buttons as he considered sending another text. Finally, he shoved the phone back into his pocket; the git would only find it funny anyway.

Resigned, he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and removed one of the two dozen warrant cards he had stacked in there. He just hoped this lot would last him longer than the last lot had.

End.

~~~

Thanks for reading! Please let me know if you spot any mistakes.