(Breathes heavy sigh of relief)

Finally, I got it finished. Sorry for the wait and for any overdramatic tendencies I demonstrate when writing "suspense" #cough# serials. Thanks, Jenny

---

Lestrade was biting her lip and nervously sitting on her bench. Moriarty and four guards had walked by her cell earlier. Why? She got up and began to tap the iron bars anxiously. Why was Moriarty going to see Holmes again. And why with four guards?

Lestrade sat back down on the bench and rattled her foot on the floor. She had been thinking about Holmes a lot. I hope he has a plan. I think I.... she thought to herself, I miss him. She got up and began to pace when she heard the familiar light step of Moriarty, walking back from Holmes’ cell. She glanced up scowling.

"Moriarty, you scumbag, what are you doing with Holmes?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Why, Lestrade, I am glad you are interested in my work. We are going to dispose of him, my dear. Momentarily, Sherlock Holmes will become a thing of the past. Again."

Lestrade felt her stomach rise. She tried to hide her worry. "Moriarty, you are disgusting."

Moriarty took a step toward her. "No, my dear. I am brilliant. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go make my opening speech to the leaders of New London’s organized crime rings. Yes, that’s right. Holmes has a 'going-away party' waiting for him. Goodbye, Lestrade. For now." Moriarty turned and began to walk away.

"Moriarty! Moriarty! You... you....UH!" She banged her hands on the bars, frustrated at her loss of words. She noticed Deidre was staring at her.

"Inspector, do you think.... Well... Does Mr. ‘Olmes have a plan?"

"I am sure he does." Lestrade immediately answered, weakly attempting to smile.

"Now, Inspector, please don’t try and comfort us," Wiggins said. "Give us the truth. Can Holmes get out of this situation?" Lestrade moved her eyes over to Wiggins. She weakly shook her head.

"I don’t know. I really don’t know." She collapsed onto the bench. Several minutes passed in silence. Lestrade looked up at the ceiling, but Deidre interrupted her thoughts.

"Lestrade!" Deidre whispered.

"What?" Lestrade raised her eyebrows. She heard footsteps coming down the hall. It is the guards, she thought. And Holmes.

The footsteps became louder and louder. Finally, Holmes and the guards passed in front of her cell. She stood up and put her hands on the iron bars. He was being shoved along, literally. His hands were tied in front of him. Lestrade gasped. There was an ionizer wound on his arm. Holmes stopped and looked at her.

He tried to smile, but Lestrade could see through his attempt. "Holmes...." she whispered. He just stood there across from her, trying to hold his soft smile.

"Mr. ‘Olmes...." Deidre was trying to break the silence. She got up and walked over to the bars. Beth followed her, with Wiggins next. Tennyson was only several feet away.

Holmes leaned over and coughed in his bound hands. He glanced up and stared at the questioning faces. Lestrade noticed he seemed extremely calm, but worried. "Listen to me," Holmes sternly said. He was addressing the Irregulars. "It is going to be all right. Trust me." The guards chuckled behind him. Holmes glanced back irritably. He suddenly bent over and violently coughed in his hands.

Holmes got up and looked at Beth. She connected with his gaze, reading his thoughts. She instinctively leaned forward as Holmes bowed down. Their lips touched.

Lestrade felt like she was in a dream. The entire situation was surreal. She arched her back as Holmes cupped her face with his hands, stroking her skin. She could feel his heart steadily beating against hers.

He broke off the embrace. Their gaze connected and an understanding passed between them. Suddenly, the scowling guards grabbed Holmes and threw him against the wall, breaking the harmony.

They seized his arms and pushed him forward. "Time to go. Say goodbye to your girlfriend! Hwa ha ha ha. You are late for your appointment." The guards laughed again. "We are late already."