Chapter Text
It was simply unacceptable. His hairdresser was not just unavailable for the week he needed his hair cut, she was unavailable indefinitely. And because she was having a baby. She was quitting her job because she had decided, with her husband, to bring life into this world, and now Sherlock Holmes had to find a new hairdresser. Terribly inconvenient.
There were not many people throughout his life he had trusted to even come near his hair. His current— well…. now previous— hairdresser had been the one he’d gone to consistently for 6 years now, and the fact that he had to find another was exceedingly frustrating. Even she had been simply tolerable, he'd yet to find someone who could meet his standards. When he’d called to change his appointment and was informed that she would no longer be continuing her services, he reduced the receptionist to tears and promptly hung up the phone and sulked on the couch for an appropriate three hours.
He didn’t get up to answer the door when there was a knock— though that behavior was hardly unusual for him, it was so tedious dealing with people. Whoever was at the door was obviously insistent, however, as the knocking continued for several minutes. He sighed, picking himself up off the couch and tying his dressing gown closed around his waist. Opening the door with an annoyed expression, he glared at the Detective Inspector, “What do you want?”
“Didn’t have your morning tea did you?” Lestrade assumed, letting himself inside.
“I did, actually,” Sherlock said in a clipped tone.
“What’s got your goat then?”
“What do you want?” he asked again.
Lestrade seemed impervious to the man’s treating glare as he moseyed around the lounge as if walking in unannounced was a common and accepted occurance. “I have a case.”
“I don’t want it. Leave now.” Sherlock said, taking back his position on the couch.
“It’s a missing person and—
“Boring.” Sherlock interrupted.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!”
“I don’t care” he sighed.
“You seem more irritable than usual."
“My hairdresser quit." He wasn't sure why he said it, but the words were out of his mouth and there wasn't much he could do about it.
“Had enough of you, has she?” he joked.
“No. She’s leaving the field to take care of her child.”
“Well good for her.” Lestrade smiled wistfully and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
“And what about me?" Sherlock asked, arms folded over his chest. He stared at the ceiling, angrily wishing that she hadn't picked a child over her profession.
“Just find another hairdresser?” Lestrade offered with a shrug.
Ludicrous. “As if it’s that simple!” Sherlock cried.
“Well, just call the salon and ask for their next best person."
Sherlock scoffed “Are you leaving now?”
“Get yourself sorted. I need you in on this."
“Of course you do, your team is incompetent."
"Sherlock." he sighed.
"I will call them if you leave right now."
“Fine, but I’m calling you later." Lestrade said, walking towards the door.
"I won't answer!" Sherlock called after him just before the door closed.
It took him a few minutes, but he picked up the phone. He needed his haircut next week, and he was going to have to find someone eventually. A different receptionist answered and he asked her a series of different questions about the stylists working there.
“Look, if you come in, you can talk to whoever you make your appointment with. I can’t give you their personal information,” she explained.
Sherlock hung up the phone with a frustrated huff and stood up to get dressed.
People were so.. dull.