Part one of the sequel to "Happy Birthday...How Old Are You Now?"

Right, then. Hope you like it^_^

---

"You're what?!"

"Moving to Sussex. As in my past life, I'm going to raise honey bees. Watson has decided to come with me." Sherlock Holmes straightened up from packing so that he could stare Lestrade down.

"Well, that's just wonderful! You tell us as you finish packing! Are you ever going to develop some sort of sense of...of...." Lestrade groped for the right word.

"Maturity?" offered Deidre from atop a fire/waterproof black packing box. "And while we're on the subject of maturity, when are YOU going to develop some, Inspector?"

Lestrade sniffed. "We were never on the subject of maturity in the first place."

"You didn't answer my question."

"And I'm not goi-- Holmes! Get back here this instant!"

Holmes made a face at the door of 221b which he had been in the process of opening.

At the same time, Watson poked his head in the living room to judge whether or not it was safe to enter or if he should fetch the med kit. It turned out to be the former as Lestrade didn't have the energy to do much more then glare at Holmes. (Who was very purposefully ignoring her.)

"Really, Lestrade, I don't see why you're so upset. You can always come visit." Watson put a plate of cookies down on another one of the numerous boxes.

"I'm not upset! It's the principle of the thing!" Lestrade crossed her arms and put her nose in the air.

Deidre chuckled. "Of course you’re not, my dear Lestrade...maybe there's 'ope for you two yet."

Lestrade looked at the cookie she was holding. She looked at the smirking old lady across the room. She looked at the cookie again. She chucked the cookie across the room.

"Ow!" Deidre rubbed the bridge of her nose. "That was VERY immature."

"What's very immature?" Wiggins and Tennyson chose this moment to enter the soon-to-be war zone of 221b Baker St.

"Lestrade throwing a cookie at Deidre's nose." Holmes clicked shut a newly packed box.

"Mmm." Wiggins responded through a mouthful of cookie.

Tennyson cocked his head. "Let me guess...." He struck a 'thinker' pose. "Deidre made a crack about Lestrade and Mr. Holmes."

"Now THAT took brains." Lestrade flipped a cookie at Tennyson.

"What'd she say?" Wiggins was reaching for his fifth cookie. (Already!)

"Nothing," chorused the two detectives.

"Right."

"So where's all the furniture, Mr. Holmes? It looks like you're moving or something." Tennyson shot a quizzical look at Holmes before snatching one of the few remaining cookies.

Lestrade made a 'hmph' sound.

Holmes smiled at Tennyson, "That's because we are moving. I bought a house in Sussex and Watson says if he doesn't accompany me I'll live off water and crumbs and drown myself in dirty laundry."

Wiggins nearly dropped his cookie. "But what about us? How're we supposed to get our entertainment if we can't watch you and the Inspector argue all day? And for that matter, what are we going to eat?! Between the four of us we can just barely make edible instant pasta!"

"HEY!" Lestrade glared, "I am NOT entertainment and I CAN cook!...somewhat...."

Wiggins glanced at Watson "Got popcorn? I sense an argument..."

Watson nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

"HEY!"

"It's all right, Lestrade." Tennyson patted Lestrade's arm. "Unfortunately, though, most people don't consider heated water dinner."

"HEY!"

"All right, all right. Stop tormenting Lestrade...think of the packing boxes!" Holmes smiled at the...annoyed...ex-inspector.

"HEY!"

Deidre rubbed her hands together and smiled wickedly. "So, what should we get them for a moving away present?"

Wiggins, Tennyson and Lestrade glanced at each other and then at Deidre. "I'm sure we'll think of something." They answered in unison.

Holmes raised his eyebrow. "I think we're in trouble, Watson...."

---

Dun dun dun DUN!