Lestrade hammered on the door of 221B for several minutes until he could hear the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. It wasn't too late at night as it was only ten at night, even though he didn't understand why it was taking Sherlock or John so long to go down the stairs as normally the two were up about this time. Well he could expect Sherlock to take a little longer to go down the stairs due to the cast. Lestrade looked at the list that Mycroft had given him and wondered what Mycroft thought about the list. Mycroft was probably extremely unamused by it, however he wasn't too sure about the matters Mycroft had done to end this Operation Goldfish. Lestrade was convinced that Mycroft would probably let Sherlock put the dead owl in his flat especially after their conversation at the pub.

John appeared at the door, his hair sticking up like someone had been running their fingers in his hair, he was wearing one of Sherlock's dressing gowns and there was a small bruise on his neck that peered out from the collar of his dressing gown. Maybe he had come at the wrong time, at least tonight Sherlock and John were having a good time this night unlike Greg himself.

"Good night then John?" Greg asked with a nod at his head to the other man. John just looked unamused, clearly it was just time to just take things direct to the point and it would be a lot less painful for everyone involved. "I was wanting to speak to Sherlock."

"Can't this wait?" John asked impatiently as he tried to hide the mark on his neck with his hand. He looked almost embarrassed. Well it was good to know that Sherlock's injury hadn't prevented any good times for him and John. "It is late at night and Sherlock and I were in bed?"

"I really need to speak to Sherlock," Lestrade shoved his fist into his pocket and he pulled out the crumpled piece of paper that was hastily shoved into his pocket before he had left the pub. John took the piece of paper and his eyes went wide as he read it. Lestrade was pretty sure that the list of Sherlock's plan was meant to stay within the walls of Bakers Street. "You can kind of see why, I kind of wanting to see him. It is a bit of a matter of importance. Mycroft isn't too happy about it as well."

At the mention of his brother's name, Sherlock seemed to come alive and he made his presence known. His rumbling voice made its way down the stairs. "Jawn," He called out, his voice sounding gruffer than normal. Lestrade had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop laughing at 'Jawn,' which was used instead of John. "Let Geoff come in."

John looked reluctant to let him in to the flat, however he moved away from the door and he let Greg in. He took the lead going up the stairs, mumbling to himself that Sherlock better have at least a bedsheet on minimum. Greg himself hoped that Sherlock was wearing even more than just the bedsheet as even though he had known the man for years, he wasn't prepared to be that acquainted with Sherlock with little to no clothing. Sherlock was sprawled out on the couch when Lestrade and John had entered the Livingroom, thankfully, he was wearing his dressing gown instead of just the sheet, his hair was even more messed up than normal and there were a few marks on his neck that he didn't bother trying to hide unlike John. He was displaying a rather blissful look on his face. Even though Lestrade was slightly disgusted at the thought that he had interrupted his two friends while they were being intimate, but strange enough, Greg was rather happy to know that Sherlock's injury didn't stop him having a good time with John. In the past Greg had thought that when John was wanting to have sex with Sherlock , he would cover himself in tomato sauce and he would lie on the floor in the attempt to resemble a corpse to get Sherlock's attention. Greg had a quick glance around the flat for tomato sauce and he made sure to give John more than just a quick glance to see if he was wearing any sauce on him.

"Ah George," Sherlock said as he placed his hands under his chin. "What do I owe this visit?"

"Greg." Lestrade corrected him with a roll of his eyes as he moved to sit on the edge of John's chair in the fear that it had been used impartially by Sherlock and John. "You know why I am here."

"So my brother sent you here then?" Sherlock asked with a slightly amused look on his face. "John do you want to put the kettle on?" John stood up with a grumble about how he was the one to make the tea and do all the jobs like get the milk while all Sherlock seemed to do was put his jacket collar up and try look all cool with his cheekbones.

"John you don't need to make tea; I have the feeling that you are involved in this somehow." Lestrade said with a sigh as he beckoned John to sit on the couch with Sherlock. John followed and he had an incredibly guilty look on his face compared to Sherlock who just looked amused. "First things first, Sherlock and John, are either of you wearing pants?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock and John looked at another for a brief moment which felt like several minutes. The two of them looked at another with smug smiles on their faces before looking over to Greg and bursting out laughing. Greg decided to take that answer was a firm no, Lestrade decided that she should have consider himself to be lucky as the two men were wearing dressing gowns at least to make up for the lack of underpants.

"Right, I don't know how to start this up but," Lestrade went into his pocket and he pulled out the list that Mycroft had given him and he passed it over to Sherlock as he was probably the mastermind of this plan. Sherlock took the list in one hand, he just looked slightly relieved instead of having a look of guilt on his face.

"I've been looking for this, I thought that John had thrown it away when he was cleaning the flat." Sherlock said. "Have you read it?" He asked. The look of innocence that Sherlock had on his face was almost sickening. He was acting like he hadn't done anything wrong with this stupid plan and that butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"Of course I've read it, your brother has read it as well." Lestrade said, hoping that the mention of Mycroft would drive the point of how stupid the idea of Operation Goldfish was, how was putting a dead owl in his flat going to achieve anything? Why was Sherlock even wanting him and Mycroft to go get together? It was stupid questions that made Lestrade wonder how far was Sherlock willing to go to get what he was wanting. The only result of this stupid plan was that Mycroft was no in a huff with him, however Lestrade could understand why Mycroft was no longer speaking to him as he had basically ruined the other man's birthday.

"Oh has he now?" Sherlock asked. "So you know about our plan?"

"It is your plan." John corrected him with a sigh. "Greg, I don't have anything to do with this. Sherlock is just dragging me into this plan of his. One day he got this idea of getting you and his brother together he came up with the idea when he was in the hospital and he was on pain medication, and with how stupid this idea is, you can tell that he was on the strong stuff." John said with a sigh.

"Regardless of whose plan this it's a bloody stupid one." Greg sighed, he took the list from Sherlock's hand and he started to read the list out loud. When he had gotten to the point of, 'Put a dead owl in Lestrade's flat,' Greg sent his best glare over to Sherlock who just looked happy with himself when his plan was being read out. "Why are you putting a dead owl in my flat? There has to be so method for this madness that is coming over you. I don't know if it is the fact that you are being kept in doors and you are bored, or you are just a very strange man who likes to make me suffer?"

"Mostly because I'm bored." Sherlock replied with a shrug, he sat up on the sofa and wrapped his dressing gown around himself tighter before discreetly giving John's arm a squeeze resulting in the other man giving him a warm smile. "My brother deserves to be happy, despite the fact that my brother is annoying and he has the problem of not being able to keep his large nose out of things and he can't lose those last ten pounds, but regardless of everything he deserves to be happy…George, you've done a lot for me in the last few years…more than you would ever know. I'm thankful for all, and I think that you should be happy as well."

Lestrade let his mouth drop. The words that he was going to say were now unimportant and they were forgotten, he didn't even brother correcting Sherlock. He had known Sherlock Holmes for at five years now, and he was still amazed at the other man. Sherlock Holmes was a great man, as Lestrade had hoped over the years, Sherlock had become a good man in his own way even though it was an idea that seemed completely impossible during the first few encounters that Lestrade had with Sherlock Holmes. Despite the madness that Sherlock was causing him and his brother, he maybe did have the best interests at heart even if it means that a dead owl was going into his flat. Sherlock's motives were good at least.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Sherlock asked with a look of confusion on his face, he nuged John several times. "John, Lestrade is looking at me funny and he has been drinking. Help."

"He's just shocked that you have some kindness in you, you big sod." John said, rubbing Sherlok's arm. "Greg, Sherlock is meaning no harm. It's not like he's planning to kill you or his brother. He's just wanting you and Mycroft to be friends. That is what he is meaning by you to being together. He just wants you to have what Sherlock and I have in the means of friendship."

Lestrade nodded as he didn't know what to say anymore. Maybe Sherlock just sensed that he needed a friend and that Mycroft needed one as well? Greg had no idea why Mycroft had acted the way that he did in the Mule and Stallion, perhaps he was just stressed from work or something? That had to be it. Mycroft did have a rather stressful job after all. His reaction was probably one of stress, and the topic of his personal life was in the air, Mycroft was probably just uncomfortable with that.

Deciding what was the better thing to do, Lestrade decided to leave. He would let Sherlock and John get back to what they were doing before. Leaving just seemed like the better thing to do in this situation. He would text Mycroft later and just apologise for making the other man uncomfortable and hopefully it would make things better and the two can resume their friendship back at the safe point.

"Right, I'm going to go now." Lestrade, stood up and placed his coat back on. "I'm going to leave you to get back onto what you are doing and I want no dead owls in my flat. " He said, nodding in Sherlock's direction. "I am meaning it or you can find yourself into a cell for the night for all the things that I have let slide through the years. I could have you arrested for going into crime scenes."

"Fine, no dead owl," Sherlock said with a sigh. "It wasn't like I was going to put one in your bed anyway."

"No you would leave it in the bathtub or you leave it in the oven." John replied.

Greg felt slightly relieved for some reason. He didn't know why he felt this inexplicable sense of relief, but it was mostly due to the fact that Greg rarely used his oven, so he wouldn't be in trouble right away and he wouldn't have to deal with cremated owl when he tried to make lasagne. Even the owl in the bathtub wouldn't be a bother for him right away, mostly as Greg always just showered at work or at the gym. The only thing that would concern Greg about the owl in the bath would be that he would get a fright in the middle of the night when he would go to the bathroom and he would be greeted with the sight of dead owl eyes staring at him.

"Regardless of where you are going to put it, there are no dead owls going to be in any area of my flat. I will arrest you for breaking and entering."

"I've got the message, Gerald." Sherlock said with a large eye roll. "If you are going, make sure to close the door properly. I don't want Mrs Hudson comparing us to Mrs Turners married ones."

Greg decided that it was probably the best that he left then. He made sure to properly close the door and he could hear Sherlock and John mumbling to themselves as he went down the stairs. Deciding to risk getting stabbed by walking home, Lestrade took to the street. He sent off a few messages off to Mycroft once more.

I was talking to your brother. Turns out that he was wanting us to be friends. -GL

Don't know why he is wanting us to be friends, and why he has made a plan for it.. -GL

Want to go and talk sometime about this ? -GL

Greg sighed when he had only received a message from Mycroft's personal assistant, saying that Mycroft was out of the hours and if he was wanting to get into contact with the other man he was going to have to arrange a meeting with him. Greg let out a sigh and he shoved his phone into his pocket as he walked back to his flat in the hopes that he wouldn't get stabbed. He needed to give Mycroft a few days at least and hopefully Mycroft would have decided to forgive him. Lestrade doubted that as Mycroft wasn't the forgiving type. Hopefully the thing would blow over before their next meeting.

One day later after his disastrous meeting with Lestrade, Mycroft found a birthday card at his desk and there were several text messages on his phone from Lestrade. Mycroft smiled when he saw the birthday card as he couldn't remember for the life of him when he last received one from someone who isn't his mother. However the card wasn't enough to mask the feeling of something that Mycroft hadn't experienced before and why it was caused when Lestrade had confirmed that he wasn't interested in anything more than just his career, like Mycroft himself. There was no reason for Mycroft getting upset, perhaps it was the feeling of sadness that Lestrade wasn't wanting anything else in life. Mycroft was happy he had finally had some success in the area of making a friend, but there was something missing in his life. Maybe he was wanting to be Lestrade's Watson or for Lestrade to be his Watson. That had to be it. With a sigh Mycroft sent a message over to Anthea for her to tell Lestrade that if he was wanting to be in contact with him, Lestrade would have to arrange a meeting. It looked cold and detached, but that is how Mycroft liked things to be, even when they were on the matters of friendship. If Lestrade was wanting to speak to him, he would arrange the meeting and things would go back to a relatively normal state. Mycroft let out a sigh and reached over for the piece of cake that he had been eyeing up for the last ten minutes. The diet could start back up tomorrow, Mycroft thought as he looked at the treadmill that was on the other side of the room. Mycroft averted his eyes from the machine and moved back to looking at the card again. Before Mycroft knew it, he was licking the icing from his fingers. 'To the hell with it,' Mycroft thought as he placed the card to the side and started digging in. The cake was going to be the only thing that would keep him sane in the stupidity of Operation Goldfish.

John walked into the flat to be greeted with the sight of Sherlock who was hunched over his laptop, furiously typing away on it. Sherlock's bright orange cast had been removed after a morning appointment in the hospital and now he was supporting a leg support and a new set of crutches. Sherlock did have crutches before but they had somehow managed to get broken in a fit of boredom when Sherlock decided to use them as a pocking device to get John's attention across the room. Sherlock seemed in better spirits once the cast was removed.

Sherlock looked up from the laptop for a brief second before going back to work. "John, you were taking a bit long for that tea. I've been waiting for about ten minutes for it."

John bit back a sound of laughter as he gave Sherlock his best eye roll even though it meant nothing, he just tended to do it out of habit as he had picked it up from Sherlock. "I've been gone for more than ten minutes; I've been at work once you came back from the hospital."

The other man blinked in surprise several times before he looked away from the laptop, like it was realisation had washed over him and he was surprised that it had been more than ten minutes since his request for tea was made. "So are you making me tea now?" He asked. He pushed the laptop away from himself and he ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

John moved into the kitchen and he started the calming ritual of making tea. Deciding that today was a celebration of some sort as Sherlock got the cast off he took out a packet of chocolate hobnobs. "What are you working on? Is it a case, I'm sure that you will get it solved in no time."

"Not a case unfortunately." Sherlock sighed and he placed his fingers under his chin. "I'm working on operation Goldfish."

"There is no point in doing operation Goldfish anymore, the two of them know about it. There is no point in doing it when they know about the plan." Sherlock replied, as he grabbed a biscuit that John passed him and he took a large bite of the biscuit.

"Operation Goldfish is just part one of the plan and was just to throw them off." Sherlock said with a through a mouthful of hobnob, spraying crumbs onto the keyboard. John bit back the sigh as he realised that he will be spending a large amount of his evening removing crumbs from his computer. "Do you think that I was going to let the real plan get into my hands of my brother?" Sherlock asked with a raised eyebrow and a smug look on his face. "Besides, I remember what you were saying to Lestrade about our plan. He is positive that he is just going to be Mycroft's Watson thanks to you. I know lots of things about you John, but I never knew that you could be that cunning."

"The things that you learn about me, I'm just like a box of chocolates there are lots of possibilities when it comes to me." John smiled.

"Chocolate is boring." Sherlock said, even though it was pretty clear that he didn't think that as he was already onto his second hobnob. Who would have thought that the great Sherlock Holmes would have a weakness for chocolate biscuits? " I'm working on the new plan. Operation Dolphin."
Sherlock passed John the laptop and John scanned the document that Sherlock had been working on.

"There are no dead owls in this plan." John pointed out. "That is already a considerable improvement over the last one. I don't know if I like the name of 'Love Squad,' for us. Who is in the Love Squad?" John asked with a look of confusion on his face.

"You and Myself. Mrs Hudson, Anetha. Molly. Mrs. Turners married ones and that cat lady who lives next to Lestrade. " Sherlock listed off. "Angelo might be a good candidate for joining the squad, he does have a restaurant." Sherlock started typing into his laptop again. "This plan isn't too detailed at the moment, that is because my brother and Gary need to do some of the work themselves."

"You know that his name is Greg." John stated with a sigh. "If this plan goes work and it follows the last step of the plan, 'marriage,' you are going to need to remember the name of your future brother in law."

"Lestrade should be happy that I call him Gary rather than Dolphin." Sherlock shrugged. "We need to start part one of operation Dolphin, we need to take my brother and Lestrade out for dinner."