>"That's Holmes," she told herself. Then she sat down and tried
to eat her dinner at a reasonable speed instead of the breakneck
gobble she usually used to down her food when on cases. But now
curiosity was eating her alive, exactly as Holmes had intended.
She shoveled down a few more bites, then threw her plate into the
stasis box and fished out a yummibar to fill out her nutritional
needs for the night. Yummibars in her opinion weren't, but they
were quick and stuck to her ribs. She ate a lot of yummibars.
Lestrade: I do not! I can cook!
Holmes: And frozen dinners are one of the essential food groups.
Lestrade: (shrugs) Well, sure. Right up there with dead animal,
caffeine, chocolate, curry, and rabbit food.
Holmes: A lovely explanation of nutritional theory.
Lestrade: You didn't complain back when you were living with me.
Ginny and Harry: (trade glances of realization)
Holmes and Lestrade: It wasn't like that!
Harry: (embarrassed) Er, no need to explain.
Lestrade: (frantic) But we didn't!
Ginny: (blushing) It's none of our business, really.
Lestrade: Augh! (gets up and begins banging her head on the wall)
Holmes: (gets up and catches Lestrade by the shoulders) Damaging
your brain will not improve the situation.
Lestrade: (talking to the wall) I'm an idiot!
Holmes: You've been under stress, you hardly ate a thing, and
you're entirely in the power of beings with mysterious powers and
silly intent.
Lestrade: Who are out of range.
Holmes: (chuckles) Yes. (sobers) In a moment you will regain your
composure.
Holmes: (turns back to Harry and Ginny. Holmes has turned pale and
stern with sheer mortification) Inspector Lestrade kindly let me
sleep on her couch until I could get my own lodgings. Nothing
occurred to compromise her honor or mine. Clear?
Harry: (swallows hard) Crystal.
Ginny: (nods vigorously)
Holmes: Good. (turns back toward Lestrade's back) Why don't we sit down?
Ginny: (whispers to Harry) A bit protective of her, isn't he?
Harry: (grins)
Holmes: (still with his back turned) No, Ginny, I'm merely acting as a gentleman should.
Ginny: (her eyes widen)
Harry: (mouthes words exaggeratedly but doesn't speak) Good ears!
Ginny: (nods)
Holmes: (Now turned back around, he catches Harry's eye.)
(Sternly) I think the Inspector could murder a cup of tea. With cream and honey. And a biscuit.
Harry: Er...yeah. (gets up hurriedly to get it)
Lestrade: (giving Holmes an odd look) My virgin ears weren't *that*
offended. I'm not going to faint dead away or anything.
Holmes: (amused) No, you didn't bash your head against the wall
nearly hard enough. You have a very thick skull.
Harry: (looks inside the teapot) The water's getting cold.
(points his wand at the teapot water) Aquaestuate!
(pours now-boiling water into cup over teaball, makes tea and brings it to Lestrade)
Lestrade: (takes cup) Thanks, kid. (looks at biscuit suspiciously,
then sighs and eats it)
Holmes: And now, I will take my turn reading the story. In my own
way.
Ginny, Harry and Lestrade: (look at Holmes uneasily)
>After a quick rummage, Ginny found some actual white formal
civilian clothes -- a dress, even.
Ginny: What?!
Holmes: It's a crossover.
Harry: Since when?
Holmes: I wouldn't want you two to feel left out, so I'm letting
you play our parts.
Ginny and Harry: That's not fair!
Lestrade: (not overly sympathetic) I don't know, I think Holmes is
going pretty easy on you. I'm sure he can think up something much
worse.
Holmes: Oh, easily. For instance....
Harry: Thatsquiteallrightdogoonwiththestory.
Ginny: (miserably) Er, please.
Holmes: I would be happy to. (clears throat)
>Thank God for summer dinners with Dad's professorial
cronies, 'cause she didn't wear dresses or white as a general
rule. Her Yardie whites invited more than enough stains. Ginny
brushed her teeth and got the taste of the yummibar out of her
mouth.
>Harry now -- Harry didn't eat yummibars. Of course, Harry had
Weasley as a roommate, and Weasley loved to cook.
Ginny: (snorts) Not likely.
Lestrade: Weasley? I've heard that name before....
Harry: I thought you said you didn't know who we are!
Holmes: I had a sudden epiphany. "Knowledge of Sensational
Literature" and all that.
Ginny: (staring suspiciously at Holmes) I think I've just been
insulted, but I can't work out how.
>She wasn't sure why. One of those creative impulses robots
weren't supposed to have.
Harry: (looks bewildered)
Ginny: My brother is not a row-bod! Whatever that is!
Lestrade: Your brother's name is...? (covers her eyes with her
hands) Oh, zed. Wizards and kids named Harry. Sensational literature.
So you're that Harry Potter. Zeeeeeeed.
>You could've argued that the writing was part of his
attempt to perfectly simulate the original Weasley, but Ronald
Weasley, M.D. would probably have been happier if he'd never
touched a pan in his life. Ron liked eating in pricy restaurants.
This Weasley, obviously barred from tasting his own creations,
loved nothing better than to watch other people make them
disappear. Maybe it was a performance art thing.
Ginny: This makes no sense!
Lestrade: Don't worry. The personal humiliation will start soon.
>Maybe he'd have some leftovers around, if Harry was in
picking at his food mode and the Irregulars hadn't been around real
recently. Yeah. Maybe.
Harry: This isn't so bad.
Lestrade: Just wait.
>She entered the monorail as it hit the station, and
promptly lost control of her train of thought. What was Harry up
to? What did he know? What did he want from her? Harry, Harry,
Harry, Harry, Harry.
Harry and Ginny: (look away from each other and blush)
Lestrade: I hate to say I told you so, but....
Harry and Ginny: (depressed) ...You told us so.
>She made an annoyed face at herself in the window as she
watched the lights of the city go by below her. Before she'd revived
Holmes: Er, met...
>him, she'd been a workaholic, overachieving, slightly crazed
New Scotland Yard Auror who still occasionally had thoughts to
call her own. Now they all revolved around that damned Harry and
his schemes and his deductions and those
Holmes: (peering at Harry) Green.
>eyes staring out of that entirely overhandsome face....
Lestrade: (looks up at the ceiling expressionlessly)
>The computer voice softly announced that this was Baker
Street, and she belatedly woke up and pushed herself out of the
car and onto the platform before the automatic doors had time to
shut her in and whisk her off to the next station. She much
preferred her broomstick.
Holmes: (chuckles)
Lestrade: Say it and die, Holmes.
Holmes: (innocently) I have no idea what you're talking about.