Lestrade stared at the scene in front of him in shock. To his left, John and Sherlock were leaning against each other, laughing. To his right, Anderson held a wooden stake and a mallet. Lestrade ran a hand over his face, all of the little incidents over the last few months beginning to add up.

Anderson looked angry and increasingly confused. He lowered his left hand, it contained the mallet, but kept his right held in a defensive position. Lestrade looked at Sherlock and John, whose mad laughter was beginning to die down. Sherlock rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a fifty pound note from it. He handed it to John, who smugly smiled and pocketed it, "I can't believe I won that."

"Nor do I," Sherlock glared at Anderson, "And only by a week. I was sure you would snap before now."

"What in the hell is going on?" Lestrade demanded.

"Nothing. Just a harmless bet... at Anderson's expense. Come, John," Sherlock whipped around and strode out of the room, John following.

Lestrade turned his attention to Anderson, and gave him a dissaproving look, "You're not going to tell me what that was about, are you?"

Anderson shook his head wildly, and pocketed the stake and mallet, "No," then he too, made an escape.

Lestrade sighed to his empty office, and wondered what he had just witnessed. He shrugged it off, however, after quickly deciding that he was better off not knowing.

(LINE BREAK)

Author's Note: This is it! This is the last chapter!

Please don't feel bad. If anyone has any good suggestions left, I'm posting a new story full of Sherlock drabbles based off of various plot bunnies, prompts, and headcannons. I'm willing to take requests for that as well, so PM me, or review what you think is a good idea. I already have one of the new drabbles set up, I'm just waiting to write a few more before posting them.

Oh, I still don't own Sherlock...