Saving Grace(A Sherlock/BBC Fan-fiction)

Chapter One: Sherlock Holmes and Internal Protestations

        The chatter of the train station was almost deafening. The whoosh eminating from the train breaks. The cumulative sound of people talking. I looked around, looking for the one person I was most excited to see.

        "Grace?" I turned and saw him. Greg Lestrade, my big brother. I dropped my suitcase and hugged him.

        "Greg! Oh you've gone gray!" I tousled his hair. 

        "You've gone blonde!" He said, repeating my actions. 

        "I know, It just happened!" I laughed. "So Greg, when are you going to tell me the real reason I'm here?" 

        'I told you! I just wanted to see you."

        "How stupid do you think I am?" I asked, looping my arm through his. He sighed.

        'I need your help with a case."

        "Greg..." I started. "I quit for a reason."

        'I know that, but I could really use your help." I sighed.

        "What's the case?"

~~~Sherlock~~~

        I stared at the ceiling as I heard the door open. I lifted the gun and shot the wall a few more times.

        "What the HECK are you doing?!" John asked, covering his ears.

        'Bored."

        "What?"

        'Bored!" I stood and shot it again. "Bored!" Behind the back. "Bored!" Before handing the gun to John, who emptied it. "i don't know what's got into the criminal classes. It's a good job I'm not one of them."

        "So you take it out on the wall?"

        'The wall had it coming." I explained, touching the bullet hole. I flopped down onto the couch.

        "What about that Russian case?"

        "Belarus-Open and shut, domestic murder-not worth my time."

        "Oh shame. Anything in? I'm starving." He opened the fridge, saw my experiment and shut it again. "Oh!... There's a head. A severed head!"

        "Just tea for me thanks." I told him.

        "There's a head in the fridge."

        "Yes?"

        'A bloody head." 

        "Where else was I supposed to put it? You don't mind, do you?" I asked, not really caring the answer. "I got it from Bart's Morgue. I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death. I see you've written up the taxi driver case."

        'Yes."

        "A study in Pink? Nice."

        "Well, you know, Pink lady, pink case, pink phone, there was a lot of pink. Did you like it?" He inquired.

        "Um...no."

        "Why not? I thought you'd be flattered."

        "Flattered? 'Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible though is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things."I pointed out.

        'Now hang on, I didn't mean it like-"

        'Oh you meant spectacularly ignorant in a nice way? Look, It doesn't matter to me whose the prime minister or who's sleeping with who-"