Disclaimer: I don't think I need it here, but anyway, I don't own the boys. A.N. Happy birthday, Hades Lord of the Dead! Each word the characters say is relevant to you, too.
It was the sixth of January 1898, when a young constable came to our door. "Please Mr Holmes, follow me right now. Detective Inspector Lestrade is facing a true locked room murder. We need your help like we never did." Of course my friend agreed enthusiastically, and we followed the man (I wasn't about to miss this).
When we entered the supposed crime scene, though, we found definitely too many police officers and no dead body. Everyone exclaimed, "Happy birthday!" It seemed that most of the cops we'd collaborated with had decided to participate to the party – because that's what it was.
"I apologize for the lack of locked room mystery," Lestrade said smiling. "I realize that it would be the best gift ever, but our criminals haven't been that clever yet, and forging a fake one would have just been an insult to your talent – and you'd immediately see through it anyway."
"This is just a small way to try to express how grateful we are to you, Mr Holmes, for everything you do for us. We wouldn't know what to do without you," Gregson admitted, looking a bit bashful. Everyone nodded at that.
"Please continue helping us in the future!" Hopkins piped up, looking adoringly at my friend.
Faced with so much unexpected appreciation from his colleagues, Holmes blushed.