Angel: I'm bored!
*C.D.*: *so she gives you...A FIC! sequel to spanish inquisition*

Angel: It's a Deidre fic!
*C.D.*: *yay!*
Angel: I've broken down....it's h/l-y
Artemis: Shaaaame!
Angel: Even though Holmes isn't in it -- well, not really.

---

Deidre pushed the door of 221b Baker Street open quietly. Looking in, she was extremely annoyed to find it empty. Mr. Holmes should be here! Along with Watson and the other Irregulars. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. If they weren't here...why was the door unlocked? And Wiggins had said Mr. Holmes had wanted to see th-

"Hello."

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!!!" Deidre jumped, the door slamming shut behind her. "I-i-inspector! Where did you come from?!"

Lestrade grinned down at the girl. "I came from the couch."

"B-but I thought this place was empty!"

Rolling her eyes, Lestrade sat back down. "Obviously, you thought wrong."

"Well, excuse me!" Deidre lowered herself into Watson's usual chair. "You're in a great mood!"

"You woke me up."

"Woke you-- what?!"

Lestrade shrugged, "Holmes said he was going away with Watson and you guys for the day. This place is nicer than my flat, and has leftovers of Watson's cooking. It's not like he'd care." Lestrade just realized the oddity of the situation, "By the way, why aren't you with everyone else? Holmes decide to be sexist?"

"No-o. Wiggins said that Mr.Holmes wanted to see us today at 2:00. He never said anything about going anywhere."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Um, well, Holmes isn't here."

"No."

Silence.

"Are you in love with Mr. Holmes?"

"WHAT!?"

"I sai-"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard."

"Well?"

"Errrr...it's none of your business!" Lestrade glared at the fireplace.

"So you could be?" Deidre smiled to herself. She'd always wanted to know this. (Not that it wasn't a beautiful chance to bug the Inspector.)

"I didn't say that!"

"You didn't say you aren't, either."

"That's personal information."

"And your point is?...Look, it's a yes or no question. It's not that hard -- only one syllable."

"All right, I'm n--" Deidre raised her eyebrows. "N-- well...kind of."

"Kind of? That takes longer to say than yes! Yes is sooooo much simpler!"

"Oh, shut up. Kind of. That's it."

"Well, what's KIND of? Either yes or no."

"Just kind of! Will you PLEASE leave me alone?"

"Oh, FINE." Deidre smiled. She'd have it out of her sooner or later, "So what else d'ya want to talk about?"

"How about you going to that door over there, opening it, going through and closing it behind you." Lestrade jabbed a thumb over her shoulder for emphasis.

"How 'bout no."

"Whatever." Lestrade stretched out and seemed to have every intention of going back to sleep, when she fell victim to sudden inspiration. "Tell me about your family."

Deidre blinked. "Errr, well I'd rather not..."

"Aww come ON! It's your turn to talk! Besides, it can't be any worse than mine." Lestrade repositioned, curling up around a pillow, reminding Deidre of a cat.

"Why? What was yours like?"

Lestrade smiled, reminding Deidre even more of a cat. "Nope, that's not going to work."

Deidre snapped her fingers. "Will you tell me after?"

Lestrade nodded.

"Great weather we're having, hey? It's clearing up, though."

"Deidre."

"Well, you didn't give me a good answer to MY question!"

"Then you're OK with acting like me?"

Deidre gave up. "I've got an older brother who hits m-me, a mom who's gone all day drinking, a dad who's God-knows-where all day and then comes home and a-...picks on my brother and me and I never hear from the rest of my family." Deidre said it all in one breath, wanting to get it over with.

Lestrade looked at her sympathetically. "I know how you feel. My parents murdered each other when I was seven. I went to eighteen different foster homes in one year, ran away from an orphanage and then had my best friends and home blown up when I was fourteen."

Staring incredulously, all Deidre could manage was:"Oh."

Deidre'd never told anyone about her family, she didn't want anyone to know she was different...no, that wasn't completely true. She'd never wanted to tell because that would also be admitting it was all real and not some terrible dream. But she'd never in a million years have thought that the woman in front of her had gone through the same, if not even worse. Deidre glanced at the Inspector. She hadn't meant to tell her. How'd Lestrade make her do it?

Lestrade read her mind. "You didn't want to tell me. You've never told anyone, have you? You didn't want to be known as different and you didn't want to admit it was real. How did I make you tell?" Lestrade shook her head. "The night my home and friends in the Underground were blown up, I met this guy on the Tube -- a complete and total stranger. He asked what was wrong and I told him everything. My entire life, something I'd never told anyone. Why him? Maybe I was completely out of it, I really don't know. I think, though, that eventually, when you've kept everything to yourself, it just becomes too much. You need to tell someone or you'd go crazy from the pain. Some of us are lucky; we tell the right person. This guy, he said to me, right before he got off the train, that 'No one expects the Spanish Inquisition' and he couldn't have been more right."

Deidre could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Lucky Inspector. "That's all great, Inspector, but it doesn't really help ME. I don't really care to know that everyone else's got a great life." Treacherously, the tears rolled down her cheeks.

Looking at her sadly, Lestrade took the girl by the arm and led her to the couch. She sat down beside Deidre, hugging her as she cried into her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Deidre. I didn't mean it that way. Things'll work out eventually. I promise. I mean, really, they worked out OK for me, didn't they?"

After a few moments Deidre smiled weakly. "Well, I don't know. You're in denial about a certain detective, you work 24/7, you've got a minimal IQ and you hafta put up with bratty kids." Sniffling, she looked up to see Lestrade's reaction.

Lestrade smiled, Deidre was back. "Denial and a minimal IQ, huh? Well mabye I'm not so well off, after all." Laughing, Lestrade switched on the radio.

"Inspector?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for what I said and...thank you for listening." Deidre looked at her feet; there was something else she wanted to ask.

"There's something else."

"Mmm. I-I was just wondering, well...it dosn't matter."

"Tell me."

"Well, it's just that my parents -- when they're at home at the same time, they always argue. They've never said anything to each other that wasn't an insult. And it's just that when I come with you and Holmes, all you two do is argue. I've always thought that, kinda, you guys were like the parents of the bunch -- not completely mature parents, sure, but still parents. I just wish that you two wouldn't always argue, you could be such good....friends." Deidre looked at the Inspector out of the corner of her eye.

"Parents, huh? This wouldn't have anything to do with your first question, would it? No, actually, don't answer that. Here, if it makes you happy, I won't start fights with Holmes anymore. I promise. Seeing as I always lose anyways...."

Deidre laughed at that."Thank you Inspector."

"What? Not 'Mom'?" Lestrade's lips twitched. Deidre bit her lip. They burst into laughter. It wasn't the world's funniest joke, certainly, but it felt good to laugh.

Her laughter subsiding, Lestrade asked Deidre quietly, "Does it feel better, now that you've told someone?"

Deidre nodded."Looks like that corny old saying really is true after all. I feel better, but, once I go home, what am I going to do? It'll be back to normal. I can't hide out here forever."

"Hmmm." Lestrade considered this for a moment. "Well, first, you apply for adoption papers, I'll help you there, then you get Holmes and your parents to sign them and voila! You're Holmes' kid."

"Convincing my parents won't be hard, after all they're almost always out of it. Other than that though, it's that simple?"

Lestrade looked down. "Well, no-o, it's not exactly." Deidre could feel her stomach dropping, "Don't look at me like that! I fix it up. All we hafta do is somehow get me to see you being abused, then I'll take you into custody, get your parents to sign the papers, threaten them with legal action, yadda, yadda and I'll straighten the lumps out after. Then we just hafta talk to Holmes."

Deidre was speechless. "You're willing to do that? I mean, it could get you into serious trouble! And-" all her arguements faded away once she saw the look on Lestrade's face. "Thank you Inspector, thank you so much."

"Don't thank me yet! We've still got work to do."

Deidre crossed over to the window, it was pouring rain. "Yeah, but it's a chance, and that's better than nothing. Besides, it looks like it's clearing up!"

Lestrade shook her head. "You English are soooo strange, there could be a typhoon out there and you'd be saying: 'Looks like it's clearing up.' ALL of you say that! Ergh!"

Deidre smiled. Some things never change.

---

This is the 1st pt. coz it's to long to post completely.

---

Part 2

"Hello, girls. Happy April Fools." The missing members of our group walked through the door a few hours and a lot of meaningless gossip later. "Have fun?"

"April Fools?! Holmes, you-" Lestrade trailed off, remembering her promise. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Deidre watching expectantly. "Oh brother."

"Yeah! I can't believe you guys fell for it!" Wiggins laughed.

"Beeep-whurr, whurr!"

"Yes, it was rather funny." Watson smiled at Tennyson.

"Well, I don't think so. But obviously you guys don't care what I think! Oh well, at least I got to finish off that cake!" Deidre laughed and turned to face them, still sitting on the couch.

"Cake?!" Wiggins did not look very pleased.

"Hmmph." Lestrade grumbled, her eyes narrowed.

Holmes smiled mischievously. "Don't like cake, Inspector?"

Lestrade was hit with a sudden idea. Putting her hand on Holmes' shoulder, she reached up and kissed his cheek.

His expression was priceless.

"No, actually, I don't like cake, not really." Lestrade's mouth quivered.

Deidre's shoulders shook violently. She'd gotten the answer to her yes or no question sooner than she'd thought. Casually looking out the window, she commented: "Definetly looks like it's clearing up."

---

All right, all right. I'm sorry. It's an H/L. The next one won't be. I swear!!!!!!!

*uh huh, sure*

Artemis:grumble, grumble.

This is the second part of my three part story.

I just finished reading a (non-fiction) book about this guy's trip to England. Everybody always told him (even in the middle of storms) that it was 'definetly clearing up' i'm sorry if this isn't true and if the guy was making it all up.) no offense to Aura and TT or any other english fans. (seeing as Victoria's 365 day weather forecast is: rain, I've suddenly noticed that I've said 'it's definitely clearing up' quite a bit myself over the years. but then mabye it's a canadian thing...of course no one else I know says that...)

*Oh shut up*