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221B Drabbles

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"It never would have exploded like that, John! There's no oxygen to produce that sort of cloud, and no way for sound to travel through a vacuum." He storms between the desks of the lower-ranking officers and barges into Lestrade's office, where they've been summoned.

"You know, for someone so unfamiliar with the solar system, you sure are an expert on things blowing up in space. Besides," John grumbles, needing to defend the film. "There was oxygen on board, for the life-support systems."

"The whole thing is absolutely unrealistic rubbish, and I don't understand why you of all people seem so fond of it."

Lestrade looks up from his desk, perplexed. "I'm pretty sure you two aren't bickering about the case. What's up?"

John just shrugs sheepishly, rolling his eyes. "I got him to watch Star Wars over the weekend. I've been regretting it ever since."

Sherlock is flapping about in a corner, flipping through the files for cases he's got no involvement in. Lestrade just eyes him askance and lets him rummage for the time being - odds are, he already knows what's in them.

"Star Wars, eh? The original three, I hope? In any case, John, you're a braver man than I. Word of advice though, whatever you do, don't let him watch the one with Jar Jar Binks."