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Sherlock began laughing as soon as the cab pulled away from the crime scene. John gave him a wry look and raised an eyebrow. After a minute of giggling, John gave an exasperated huff and poked Sherlock to get his attention. Sherlock stopped laughing, but his eyes showed his amusement clearly.
"What on earth are you laughing about?"
Sherlock grinned broadly, but didn't answer.
"Come on, what is it? It couldn't have been the case, because it really was dull - I fail to see what the joke is... Well? Have I got something on my face?"
Sherlock shook his head before pulling out a set of metal handcuffs from his coat pocket.
John stared at them for a long moment before he realised:
"They're Lestrade's!" Sherlock nodded his head, barely containing his laughter and letting out a snort for his efforts. John frowned, baffled.
"I still don't see how it's so funny!"
Sherlock smirked, clearly very pleased with himself.
"You would; if you knew what I replaced these with."
Meanwhile, across London, D.I. Lestrade had finally chased down the suspect, and tackled him to the ground. Reaching for his standard issue handcuffs, he stared in bewilderment at the fluffy pink monstrosities that he withdrew instead. Donovan gave a bark of laughter and he silently vowed he would get Sherlock back.