Word Count: 757
*Sherlock's POV*

Detective Inspector Lestrade claimed to have a first name. Obviously, I knew this was a lie, but sometimes he, John, or Mycroft insisted that I use it. I knew that this "name" began with a G, but I rarely remembered any more of it. At least, that's what people told me often. I'm convinced that he just changes it to catch me off-guard.

One evening, I was going through John's notebooks and scrapbooks (he has so many??) for a case and definitely not his old army pictures, when I found a notebook titled "Sherlock's Various Names For Greg". What the hell does that mean?

"Those are mine." John's voice came from the doorway of his room. I spun around, caught unaware of his presence, which in my opinion was very rude of him.

"What's this?" I asked, standing up and showing him the notebook. He smirked and lead me over to his bed, where he sat down cross-legged against his preferred pillows. I copied him on the other pillows, blushing slightly at being like this next to him.

"This," John replied at last, taking the notebook off me, "this is a collection of all the different names you've called Greg. Lestrade," he added, predicting the question I was about to ask.

"It's not my fault he always changes his name to trick me," I sulk. He sighs and opens the book to the first page, leaning into me slightly to centre it between us. I feel my heart beating a little faster and my face growing warmer but I do my best to ignore it.

"Look, the first time you said his name around me," John said, pointing at the date in the top right corner of the page and then gesturing to the whole of the page itself. It was formatted with the date, the name I called him, and a brief summary of the context. It was genuinely fascinating that he did this.

"Geoff?" I scoffed at the page. John chuckled heartily and hummed in response before turning to the next page, which was the same layout as the previous one and resulted in a similar reaction from me. The book what about halfway filled, and each page was a different occasion and name, all resulting in my protest:

"I never called him that!" -SH
"Garry?" -SH
"Obviously that's not real." - SH
"You're making this up." -SH
"Gerard.." -SH
"George- oh, yeah, I remember that one actually-" -SH
"No way!" -SH
"What??" -SH
"Gim? Like Jim? That doesn't even make sense!" -SH ("Well, that's what I thought too!" -JW)

Eventually, once we had gone through every page in the book so far (with John saying I was being overly dramatic for each and every one, of course), I flicked back to a page with a little gold star sticker next to the date.

"What does that mean?" I pointed at it, curiously.

John laughed again. "That means it's my favourite so far. Greyhound.. we were so confused; we thought that you had thought of something for the case in the middle of talking to him. The Yard searched for a stray greyhound for hours before I realised what you'd done and called Lestrade." He giggled whilst replaying it to me. I smiled at his happy face, not having the faintest memory of that occasion at all. After he calmed down a bit, I shut the book and placed it on his nightstand.

"Have you shown him this?" I asked, wanting to stay next to him on his bed as long as possible before going back to the real world again. John looked at me, smiling lightly. He shook his head softly and chuckled again in his John-ish way which I loved so much.

"I probably should," he said, mostly absent-mindedly as he averted his gaze from the book and more onto me. I avoided his stare, painfully aware of my rapid heartbeat and longing for the man sitting beside me. Which only increased when he laid his head on my very-thinly-pyjama-covered shoulder, closing his eyes and smiling softly.

"John?" my voice comes out as nothing more than a whisper.

"D'you wanna just sleep here tonight Sherlock?" I nod without fully comprehending the question, my eyes feeling heavy as i melt into his warmth. His hair is soft and welcoming beneath my cheek as we drift asleep, still half-sitting, half-lying slumped against the pillows of John's bed.