by N.B.D. (Glitterbug880012 at aol.com)
I was bored, so I started another story AND I NEED HELP!!!!!
Lestrade eyed the officer on her left. Tabatha Gregson. Little
Miss Perfect, always did everything right. Actually, she had a reason
for hating her; every Lestrade since Holmes's time hated the Gregsons,
and vice versa.
Grayson had just called the two of them in, watching as an
automatic game of visual daggers commenced. "Lestrade, Gregson, I'm
assigning you a case."
"Just get to the point, sir." Tabatha flipped her long, blonde
ponytail behind her back, rolling her grey-blue eyes.
Lestrade sneered and rolled hers. Prissy, she thought.
"Well, Gregson, I know that your..." He paused, as if holding
in something and not trying to let himself explode. "...friend and
Holmes probably won't get along, but we have a murder and I think
that you four should get working on it."
"Sir, you know him, he won't stand for it. He hates that
detective!" Gregson stood up from her chair.
"I don't care, I want to just try it out, all right? Humor me
here. Lestrade, call Holmes and get him down here ASAP!"
She turned and grumbled to herself, at the same time
questioning who this 'him' was. Didn't matter much anyway. Before
she even had a chance, Holmes was there with Watson.
"Chief, I'm here. You must obviously want me for the murder
on Hampton Drive."
"Yes, and I don't want to know how you know, but I would like
to introduce you to Monsieur A. Dupin."
A tall man came through the door, pausing when he saw Holmes,
who looked at him with disgust. "Pitiful excuse for a detective!" he
said with a French accent.
"Me? Why, it took you all night to figure out what your
friend was thinking!" Holmes shot back.
Gregson was out of her chair and trying to calm the man down.
"Dupin, calm down," she said soothingly, he tried to punch Holmes.
"As your supervising officer that's an order!" He sat down, still
looking at the other man with disgust.
Gregson turned to Lestrade, who had been trying to do the
same with Holmes. "Look," she started, "my dead guy and your dead
guy may not get along too well, but we're gonna kill each other
before we get to the crime scene at this rate. Let's just stop and
try to be friends, you and I, okay?"
Lestrade looked down at her hand, apprehensive, then took it
and shook. "Okay. Now let's get to Hampton Drive."
They turned to go out the door, and as they left they heard
Grayson mutter to himself. "I'm really going to need a pain reliever
for this one."
I NEED ideas beyond belief, so come on, help a girl out!
TO BE CONTINUED
Back to the Fanfic index