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"Did you ask him?" John turned to Sherlock as he reached down the tea caddy and dropped in two teabags.
Sherlock groaned and flung himself down onto one of the kitchen chairs to await his tea and toast.
"You know I'm not good at that sort of thing, John. Can't you ask him?" The detective spoke in an almost begging tone, like John was asking him to do the impossible.
"Oh, Sherlock." John sighed, putting the two mugs down on the table and slipping four slices of bread into the toaster.
Sherlock gave his best pout and puppy-dog-eyes combo, and John laughed.
The doctor raised his hands in defeat.
"Fine, fine," he chuckled, grabbing the popped slices and spreading them with butter. "I'll do it."
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Greg raised an eyebrow as John entered the pub and motioned for the DI to join him at one of the nearby booths.
"Two pints, love." he requested from the barmaid before crossing to join the doctor and sliding in alongside him.
"John." Greg nodded. There was something strange about John's demeanour. He looked anxious, but he had an odd smile on his face.
"Greg." John replied, waving his thanks to the barmaid as their pints arrived at the table.
"I was wondering", he continued, taking a long drink for courage, "Would you be our bestman?"