#preferslowtar

Work was hell; but then when wasn’t it, if Greg had to be perfectly honest. He liked his job, that he couldn’t deny, but the amount of work and effort he was required to put in everyday was exhausting- and took away from almost every other aspect of his life. Making the time to sleep or eat often escaped him, thankfully years of experience making it possible to successfully ignore the hunger pains that wracked his when he was working a particularly tough or seemingly un-crackable case, or at least for a little while.

The case he was working currently had been driving Greg completely mad; bodies, three to be exact, showing up on the shore of the river Thames without a single indication of death other than the bloated, varying states of decay they each arrived in. Food was the last thing on his mind as he traveled between the Yard and the location the bodies had been washed ashore. It was a small thought in the back his mind, the necessity for food, his stomach rumbling in very sparse waves whenever he had a millisecond of downtime, which wasn’t very often.

Despite hunger being one of the last things on his mind, Greg was surprised- yet eternally grateful- when the person he always least expected arrived on the shore of the crime scene, Mycroft Holmes, carrying a plastic bag that no doubt contained food from the grease that had already soaked the bottom of the bag.

 there’s the familiar scent of tea  ,    warmth seeping into nimble hands   (   lightly calloused by field work  ,   by the pull pull pull of a trigger    )   that lend to a quiet  ,   calm atmosphere.     yet even that may as well  be a rouse  ,    with the uncertainty of the next few moments.         ❝      she’ll be cross   WITH YOU.       ❞