Title: Incompetent

AN: Riiiiiight. So this is something that I found when cleaning out my writings folder and I decided to upload it. It's not very good, written quite a while ago. But it definitely isn't the worst I've written and I though that maybe one or two of you would enjoy it.

Let me know what you think!

DISCLAIMER: Not Mine.

Lestrade was going for a walk. He was in the middle of a particularly gruesome triple homicide and he decided that a walk would definitely be necessary before calling in Sherlock-bloody-Holmes. He needed to clear his head before dealing with him.

That man will be the death of me. Running around, insulting my officers, dashing off without a backwards glance doing god-knows what. Sally was quite enamored at first – I remember he took one glance at her and said, very rudely, "Not interested.".

And that about sums him up, doesn't it? Sherlock-Not-Bloody-Interested-Holmes. I don't know if I;ce ever seen him smile, or even look happy about something. Excited, gleeful, but never happy. Poor sod will never find somebody.

Lestrade turned the corner and was surprised to see the very man he didn't want to see yet. Sherlock hadn't seen him yet, he seemed to be texting someone quite avidly. He was lounging back and on a bench and Lestrade saw him send off a text. But instead of getting up and stalking away, like he expected, Sherlock sat back and drummed his fingers impatiently on his leg. His eyes were trained on his phone and he appeared to be oblivious to everything else.

'Huh, weird. It's almost like he's waiting for someone to text back – who would he be texting?' Lestrade thought to himself, not getting any closer. It wasn't everyday you got to watch Sherlock Holmes without him knowing that you're watching him.

As Lestrade pondered this Sherlock's phone lit up and buzzed. He watched, amazed and Sherlock's face seemed to light up as well as he whisked the phone off his leg and opened to read the text. A soft, fond smile appeared across his lips and he responded quickly. Staring at his phone until it buzzed and lit up again.

This time when he read the message he actually laughed. Sherlock Holmes! Laughing and smiling at a text! Who would have thought it?

The next text that Sherlock read, his eyes on the phone as if it was the only important thing in the world, made him smile and look up and around. Lestrade shrank back and hid in the shadows – enjoying his detachment.

He watched as Sherlock looked around, apparently looking for someone. He watched as someone came up and tapped him gently on the shoulder. Sherlock whirled around and stared at the laughing man who had gained his attention. Lestrade couldn't see Sherlock's face anymore, but he saw the other mans.

The other man wasn't anything out of the ordinary. In fact he was completely ordinary looking. His short sandy blond hair was in a military cut and he was wearing a cable-knit jumper and a pair of nondescript jeans, he was just an average bloke who Lestrade wouldn't look twice at in the streets.

Except for the fact that he was looking up at Sherlock with the most brilliant grin on his face and his eyes said that the object that he was looking at was the most precious thing in the entire world.

Lestrade watched in amazement as the blond reached up and brushed Sherlock's cheek gently and Sherlock, instead of pushing the hand away and scowling leaned down and pressed his lips gently against the shorter man.

Lestrade was sure that he had been transported to a polar dimension when the man wrapped his arms around Sherlock neck and deepened the kiss. They pulled back and smiled eyes only for each other. The blond said something that could have been, 'I love you'.

Lestrade was almost blinded by the brightness of their smiles as they intertwined their hands and turned towards him and began to walk down the path. Sherlock looked up and saw him and he quickly hid his smile.

"Lestrade!" He snapped at the DI. "What are you doing here?"

The man..Sherlock's partner it would seem look at Lestrade with interest. "Is this the detective you've been telling me about then?"

"Yes, John."

Lestrade waited for the insult but it never came.

The man, John, came forward and offered the stunned police officer his hand, "Good to meet you, mate. John Watson. Thanks for letting Sherlock take cases while I'm gone. I look forward to joining him when I'm back home for good."

Lestrade was still staring at him. "Sorry. Who are you?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Don't be so incompetent, Lestrade. This is my partner, Captain Doctor John Watson. Currently on leave from his third tour in Afghanistan."

John blushed ever so slightly and elbowed Sherlock in the shoulder.

Lestrade stared at the two of them, "Sorry, Captain Doctor?"

John nodded, "That's what Sherlock calls it. I'm an army doctor. And a captain. I finish up my third tour in six months, after that I'm home for good."

"And you're with Sherlock."

The man smiles, "Of course. I can't think of anyone else who could put up with me."

Sherlock grinned, it was clearly a privet joke between the two. Lestrade tried to get away, "Well good to meet you, mate, be safe out there. Sherlock, triple homicide if you're interested." With that he turned and hurried back to the yard.

His team would never believe this.