Chapter 1

Lestrade Beecher walked up the narrow staircase leading to his one room apartment on the 5th floor. As he escalated, he avoided holding on too tight to the railing for fear it would all come crashing down. The landlord didn't bother fixing anything around the old ninetieth century building. But then that's what you get for renting at 200 pounds a month in the heart of London City. However, now that Lestrade had just been named DI of the London Police Force, he could soon afford larger and more comfortable quarters.

Lestrade inserted his rusty old key as he pushed the door from the top. The board shifted and as he entered the apartment, the phone rang. He knew it would be Gregson; he always called the same time every week to brag about his pompous job as CIA in the New York police department. Normally Lestrade would let it ring a while before answering, but today he couldn't wait to hear his voice. He was sure that his new promotion would send him wildly jealous.

"Greg, you won't believe what happened at work today."

"You got promoted?"

"How-"

"I have contacts, remember?"

"I have asked you not to spy on me. Anyways, that's not all; I've also been awarded best deduction skills for a murder inquiry."

"Congratulations, that's amazing."

Lestrade could hear the sarcasm in his voice almost choking him to death.

"And without any help either."

"Yeh." Lestrade said trying not to reveal the sinking feeling inside him.

"Yeh... Well just remember not to get so carried away as to forget Mom's birthday party next week."

"I'm not the one flying over seas to be there."

"Just don't screw up... again."

"Last year wasn't my fault! YOU failed to inform me of the time change."

"You would have gotten my message if you weren't partying at 5 in the morning."

"I wasn't partying! I was- well, I'm just saying that you could have phoned earlier seeing you knew it would start at half past eleven two days in advance.

"Whatever, just make sure you're there on time. Oh and by the way Less, hows your love life going. Last I heard your girlfriend left you."

"Why don't you just ask your contacts." Lestrade said hanging up.

As soon as said, Lestrade regretted it. It was creepy enough having his brother spy on him at work, let alone his private life. Especially since his meetings with Mycroft Holmes. Not that anything happened between them (Mycroft seemed uninterested by relationships in general and Lestrade also had no intention of coming out as gay to anyone), but they met every week for a game of chess and knowing Greg, he would somehow turn this against him. Playing chess was the one thing Lestrade was good at, but that was never enough for Dad. Till the day he died, he had always preferred Gregson; not that Lestrade ever cared much, his parents had still both loved him unconditionally.

Anyways, Mycroft had been introduced to him by his younger brother Sherlock. Sherlock is a "Consulting Detective" as he likes to put it. He had in fact been helping Lestrade these past few months. And since Sherlock isn't a professional, Lestrade took the opportunity to take all the credit. Besides, Sherlock had said that he prefers to stay anonymous. Something about irritating fans stalking him. And as John, his... roommate says, "he gets off on the thrill of the chase."

However, if Greg knew of this, he would surely denounce him publicly, giving him the satisfaction of being the more accomplished older (by five minutes) twin brother.

It was almost 8:00 and Lestrade had promised Mycroft that he would meet him for an extra game of chess as celebration of the Bruce Partington plans being at last secured. Lestrade was not even supposed to know of their existence, but seeing as he's not locked away in some secret government cell, Mycroft must have made him an exception. Lestrade made sure he had his cell phone before rushing out the front door. Regardless of Mycroft's patience, Lestrade didn't want to keep him waiting.