by Cyberwolf (wolf at mydestiny.net)
Whoo! Finally got to the double-digits! ^_^
Recap from Chapter 9:
(We now resume your regularly scheduled fanfic.)
Chapter 10: Just the Facts
Holmes immediately began spouting denials, until he realized that,
lacking human vocal chords, all he was doing was barking loudly. And that
Lestrade was still advancing on him threateningly. He yipped and took
An hour later:
After using his paws to type out a long grammatically horrible sequence
of words -- in which one out of four words were misspelled -- he had
explained to Lestrade what had happened. The first thing he explained, of
course, was that he had seen nothing, nothing at all,
when she had given him a bath.
Seeing as how Holmes was the only person in the world who could still
be called a Victorian gentleman (Moriarty did not count, thank you
very much) Lestrade gradually calmed down and accepted the explanation.
Once you accepted that your new-found pet was actually your best friend
who was thought dead, it was surprisingly easy to go along and accept the
rest of whatever happened -- a sort of suspension of disbelief, as if
this were all a dream.
Later, Lestrade was seated on the floor, and Seeker -- Holmes -- was on
the computer chair, discussing the transformation while Lestrade tried
not to think of how silly she looked having a serious conversation with a
"Okay, okay -- so you were out getting groceries, and then a truck
crashed into you, and this glowy liquid fell on you, and then a wall
fell on you?" Lestrade shook her head. "It sounds like the pilot episode
of a bad cartoon series. Only if it were, youíd turn into something a
little more super-powered."
Lestrade grinned, feeling a bit like things were getting back to
"Remember, Holmes," Lestrade said as they walked through the crowded
city streets, "bark once for yes, twice for no. Got that?"
Holmes barked once.
"Good boy!" Lestrade teased. Once she got over the shock, she found
that having Holmes available to be collared and leashed and have to act
like she was his mistress was almost wickedly easy fuel for teasing. And
now that Holmes knew that she knew, his disgruntlement with the whole
situation was very plain to see.
"Wait, here we are," Lestrade said, pulling slightly on the leash. She
stared at the crumbled wall. There was a cordon set up around its area,
as well as a few bobbies sternly warning off those who stopped to stare.
The truck had apparently already been moved away, but they were taking
more care with the wall.
Lestrade came nearer. She could have flashed her badge and gotten in,
but sheíd have a time explaining her Ďpetí. So she just lingered nearer,
trying to see what she could. A bobby noticed her and came nearer, before
doing a double-take.
"Beth? Elizabeth Lestrade?"
Lestrade, honestly startled, looked at him. "Danny!" Daniel Quimby was
a fairly close acquaintance -- they had been friends, before duty and
life had made them drift apart, classmates in high school. She hadnít
seen him for five or more years.
He came closer, smiling, and stuck out a hand. They shook warmly.
"Danny! Wow, so youíve worked your way up the ranks," Beth said,
admiring the lieutenantís bars on his uniform -- obviously he was the one
in charge here.
"Me? How about you? Hotshot Yardie!" Danny said, doffing his hat
mockingly. "Heard about all that stuff with Sherlock Holmes...you always
were reading that sorta stuff, but I didnít think youíd take it so far."
"Stuff it, Danny."
"Right, right...cute pup," he said, changing the subject. He bent down
and extended a hand to the gold-furred puppy next to Lestrade. Seeker
ignored him -- quite obviously. If heíd been human, Danny thought, he
would have called it a deliberate snub.
"This is Seeker," Lestrade said. "New puppy. Got him yesterday."
"I heard that the Yard was starting up a new K-9 program. Gonna do it
from the ground up, seems like, huh? So, youíre one of the handlers?"
Lestrade hemmed and hawed. "Er...you could say that." Hurriedly she
changed the subject. "Whatís that?"
"Itís a wall," Danny drawled. He had always fancied himself quite the
wit in high school, Lestrade remembered as she rolled her eyes. He could
be funny, but sometimes he just made you want to hit him on the head. She
had a couple of times.
"No, really? Wow, and here I always thought it had to be standing up to
be called one. Whyís it all down on the ground like that?" she asked,
taking on a vapid tone.
Danny shuddered. "Please donít do that," he pleaded. "It sounds so
unnatural coming from you."
He didnít see it, but the puppy beside Lestrade nodded his head in
Lestrade did, and decided to warn Holmes about doing...un-
puppyish...things. Call it paranoia, but she didnít want anyone noticing
how extraordinarily intelligent her new pet seemed to be. There had been
that incident with the genetically-manipulated cats...sure, that was way
back in 2076, but now there was a section of New Scotland Yard dedicated
to investigating crimes against the Himmelman-Trotsky Accords -- the
international ban on unregulated genetic experiments. The Gene Squad, as
the other Yardies called them, were mostly fanatics about their job. They
made Lestrade look like a goof-off. Somehow, she didnít know where, the
head of the department had rounded up people who seriously and whole-
heartedly believed that genetic manipulation would bring about the end of
civilization. Personally, Lestrade thought they played a little too much
Resident Evil 15: Extreme Prejudice. Still, she didnít want to get
on their bad side.
She recalled the glow of fanaticism in their eyes, and shuddered. She
would really have to tell Holmes to act more like a dog.
"....so then the truck-driver; his nameís Sam, by the way, poor guy --
heís probably going to take a major pay-cut; plowed the truck straight
into the wall. You know, of all the walls to hit, heís got to pick the
one scheduled for demolition; the one rickety enough to fall," Danny
completed his story, shaking his head. "That guyís luck really bites.
Lucky though, that no one was hurt during all that. Heard one
hoverblading kid got close to it, though..."
Lestrade frowned in thought, wondering why the fact that there was
supposed to be a man under all that rubble was being hushed up. Watson
had known, and she assumed Grayson did...
"...and whoo, what a job cleaning up that truck was!" Danny rambled on.
"Took us so long, thatís why the wallís just being started. That truck
was filled with chemicals, right, and we had to vacuum up every last drop
of the spill...."
"Really?" Lestrade said, taking note of the conversation now. "Whatís
wrong with it? Is it corrosive, acid, radioactive, what?"
"Well...no. Itís...hell, I donít know how to explain it," Danny said.
"The guy who they were shipping it to -- some professor with a lab way
out in Surrey - well, he knows what it is, but when he tried to explain
it to the capín, the capín just came out looking really lost -- you know,
sort of like me whenever old Frederickson pulled a pop quiz on us."
"Whatís the professorís name?"
"Er...Utonium, I think. Professor Jack Utonium, Jr."
"Right. Hey, Iíd better be going now. Nice to see you again, Danny,"
she told him, waving.
"Right back at you!" he said, waving back.
A half-hour later found Lestrade and Holmes in her cruiser, on the way
On to Part 11!
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