Young BBC Sherlcok

"This is really just an idea at this point. I wrote this scene out and I had a vague notion of the plot, but it really needs some polishing before it's ever ready for fanfiction.net or anything. The main idea is that young Sherlock is arrested by Officer Lestarde. So many continuity issues here!" -Casey

“Alright then, Sherlock,” the police officer sighed as he took his seat across from the disgruntled teenager. “What’s the story? I wouldn’t have pegged you for the gangster type.”

The young man glanced about the room, his fingers tapping the small metal table between him and the officer agitatedly. He brushed back his short curly black hair in a subtle attempt to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Why are you working late?” the young man asked at last in a clear deep voice.

The officer held back a smile and replied, “A gang fight over territory usually pushes back everyone’s clock-out time.”

“No, no, no, no, no” the boy protested, shaking his head and shutting his eyes as he rang his hands before his face. “DI Pitts said you could go home nearly an hour ago, why are you still here?”

The officer stared at his suspect indignantly. The boy had been locked up in the interrogation room for nearly an hour with nothing to do except drink a glass of water or stare at his own reflection in the two way mirror. “How…what makes you think that the DI said that?” the officer asked curiously.

“Oh please, we both know you were nearly shot in that gang fight and you’ve been here since seven in the morning,” the boy explained as he clamped the top of his head between his hands and rested his elbows on the table. “Exhausting the only competent officer on his force is hardly a mistake that Pitts would make. So naturally he told you that you could go home, but you’re still here…”

“Do you realize how much trouble you’re in?” the officer said with a knit brow.

Sherlock leaned very far back in his chair and moaned, “I was at the scene and I alerted the police. You have proof of nothing else.”

“Really?” the officer said with a snide expression. “Will that be the case after we do the drug test?”

Sherlock shifted his weight and nearly fell out of his chair, causing a loud scraping noise against the concrete floor. “Yeah, probably,” the boy smarmily replied as he sat up and laid his hands on his lap.

“Was the dealer we arrested last week your supplier?” the officer asked with a real tone of concern. “. I guess you stopped stocking your supply after we raided your house last year, yeah? Is that why you were out on the street when the fight broke out? You were looking for shoes hanging from telephone wires?”

“I just called you competent, Lestrade,” Sherlock scoffed, glaring at the man. “Don’t make me take it back.”

Officer Lestrade looked down at the cup of coffee in his hands while shaking his head. “Alright, well,” he began as he got to his feet again and ran his hand through his black hair in frustration. “I called your folks so you’ll be out of here soon.”

“My parents are both out of town,” Sherlock corrected.

“I know,” the officer breathed as he opened the door. “That’s what your brother said when I talked to him.”