Disclaimer

I do not own DIC or Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century though I wish I did. Someone else owns it all. However, Josh is mine (and any other characters to make a special appearance) as is the original material of this story. Enjoy.

A Hot Day in New London

CyleFlynt

Holmes was sitting in his favorite chair by the fireplace. The fire wasn't burning and for once, it was a bright and sunny New London day. Rays of sunlight splotched the hardwood floors where once only dismal wisps of light would break through the thick fog of the morning. No new cases had sprung to his attention. It was a quiet and peaceful day, the startling lack of activity only serving to intensify the boredom that was just setting in.

Watson stood in the kitchen fixing another batch of those biscuits he had learned to cook. The culinary artist wouldn't leave his oven and stove if he didn't have other, more important responsibilities. However, today he was pondering Holmes' recent mood. Holmes' mood swings certainly could cause a miserable day, but the compudroid wondered if for some reason, this mood stemmed from something else. "If I didn't know better, I'd have thought he'd have spring fever or something along those lines. He's so irritable when there aren't any new cases. It's as if he's forgotten how to have fun," the compudroid sighed thoughtfully. "Well, if nothing else, one of the Irregulars should show up eventually to update him on the word of the streets."

Holmes activated the vidscreen, searching for something to drain away the boredom threatening to overtake him.

News Channel: The New London heat of summer really seems to be keeping the criminals down lately. The crime rate is at its lowest in 15 years. There is a possibility of heat stroke and dehydration with this heat wave………

Holmes: Too bad Moriarty can't control the weather……

A police cruiser sliced through the hot dry air flying down the streets of New London. She would have been stopped several times if the "code of officers" didn't include not pulling over a fellow police officer for speeding. She wasn't about to do this alone.
A knock sounded on the door.

"Holmes, can you get that! My biscuits are about to burn!" yelled a frantic Watson as he hurried to save his precious creations.

Jumping at the chance for any kind of external stimulation, Holmes sprang to the door, exhilarated for the excuse of leaving his chair and the monotonous newscaster. He saw both a person he had been expecting, and one not expected. There was a young brunette with a blonde streak of hair about shoulder length. Blue jeans and a faded shirt adorned her frame. Her blue eyes sparkled with an underlying intent. "Lestrade?" he managed to croak. Never had he ever expected to see her in anything besides her form-fitting police uniform, and even though he had often seen her more American-style dress in several of their nighttime vidcalls, a small pleasure he had considering the background the two shared, he had never expected her to drop by for anything other than business.

Lestrade grinned devilishly at him, her eyes glinting as she coyly asked, "Hey… I just came by to see if you were busy today. You aren't, are you?"

Homles' mind immediately caught on to her innocent act. "What are you up to Lestrade? Wait, don't tell me. Figuring it out would be much more interesting."

Lestrade began to roll her eyes as she grabbed his arm and pulled him outside. "You obviously aren't busy if that's the case." She said dryly. "But not to worry, I know something you can do."

Somehow, he allowed her to drag him to the curb before finally demanding his arm back. "You could have just asked for me to come outside, Lestrade. What is so important that we have to stand in this infernal heat for you to tell me?"

"Eyes and brains, Holmes. Eyes and brains." She smirked as she threw a rag at him and prepared to fill a bucket with water.

Holmes's eye finally caught sight of the police cruiser she had driven. Splattered with mud, dirt and numerous insect-like spots, it was nearly unrecognizable. "You want me. To clean that. For you." An incredulous Holmes gaped.

"Actually, while you're washing it I want you to tell me exactly what regions the mud and dead bugs came from, and I want the report on my desk by next Monday." She smirked, fighting hard to restrain herself from snickering just behind a still shocked Holmes. "Anyways, you know I'll be supervising." She snickered, finally giving into the urge to flat out laugh at his stunned expression.

Placing a soft towel over the biscuits while they cooled, Watson heard laughing. It sounded familiar but there weren't that many children that lived nearby. As he peeped out the door, he saw a shocked Holmes and one incredibly euphoric Lestrade. "My, my. Would either of you like some lemonade or would you like to stand in that heat all day?"

Lestrade turned around beaming and replied, "Two lemonades and mine with a bit of sugar. We're gonna wash my car today. It's nice, hot, and sunny and Holmes has volunteered to wash my car with me today."

"I did not volunteer!" Holmes retorted, having recovered from the initial shock of the situation.

"Pfft…" Lestrade responded, grabbing Holmes' arm again. She stared into his dark blue eyes and grinned maliciously, "You volunteered when you answered the door…."

As they rinsed the cruiser off, Holmes looked at Lestrade. She definitely seemed to be a good mood. What was so different about today that had her so happy? Normally, she would have stormed in complaining about the lack of cases, or perhaps some "brats" that she would have to check up on. But today, having to do work that required relatively no sense of mental capacity at all, she was practically flying. For one, she had on civilian clothes. That couldn't be it. A change of clothes wouldn't change her personality so drastically, and it had never affected their nighttime conversations before. Perhaps it was that her mind had a break from the cases. That wasn't it either. She enjoyed solving cases almost as much as he did. Perhaps it was the weather. It did seem to be about 50 degrees Farenhiet in New London almost every day, yet today it was reaching over 100.

"So what have you been up to Holmes? When there're no cases, you must have some kind of hobby, right?" the euphoric brunette inquired. As he looked up to reply, a sudden idea formed, "Yes, I do. One of which is this!" And with that a sharp stream of water spurted from his water hose.

The scene was instant chaos. Screams of shock from both sides echoed as a water fight erupted. "You'll PAY FOR THAT HOLMES!" Lestrade shouted, jumping up from her position and preparing to spray a stream of water back in his direction. Seeing her movements, Holmes dived for the tail end of the hovercar. "Not so sure Lestrade!" He boasted from his supposedly safe location, beginning to calculate her next move.

"Take this!" She growled falling to the pavement so as to shoot him from under the car. A shout of distress signaled her success as she hopped back on her feet to finish the job.

Lestrade was pulling out all the stops. Throwing her own rag at him, she dived behind the cruiser.

"That cruiser can't stop me!" he declared as he crouched to spray the water from underneath the hovering vehicle at the suspected spot, using Lestrade's own tactics against her. A sudden squeal confirmed his aim and suddenly, he was attacked from above with yet another jet of water as Lestrade leapt onto the cruiser for an ultimate offensive position.

"My! Aren't we having fun today!" exclaimed Watson as he appeared at the door with two glasses of lemonade. "Look at you both! You're soaked!"

As Lestrade quickly reverted back to her normal, business-orientated self and jumped down from the hood of her car, Holmes stood up and realized that he was indeed dripping wet. Both him and Lestrade stood with water dripping from their noses, cheeks, and hair, pants clinging to their legs and shirts plastered to their bodies. As he glanced at Lestrade, he suddenly found his heart rate was not slowing. "She looks so different. I guess I never took the time to notice before," he thought.

As a mothering Watson ushered the two "naughty" adults inside to dry off, it became apparent that Lestrade's blue jeans were going to take some time to get even partially dry, a serious disadvantage of heavy denim.

Watson: "Well. We certainly can't let you walk around in wet jeans all day. I suppose Holmes will just have to let you borrow some of his."

As Holmes looked up to argue he noticed Lestrade did look a bit chilly in her wet jeans. "Well, all right. Just don't get too comfortable. I don't do this often." He claimed, stalking towards his room to find a spare pair of pants.

"Just remember, you squirted me first with the water hose, Holmes." Lestrade mumbled as she was corralled by Watson to the hall bathroom to change.

As Holmes retrieved a pair of pants from his closet, he stopped a moment in the hallway, staring at the bathroom door Lestrade had ventured into. Several thoughts entered his mind, but only one he chose to voice. "Lestrade…..you weren't serious, about that report, were you?"

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A/N:

Chapter one is up. I'm formerly known as Casey (from Maureen's SH22 fan site), and I'm rewriting and revising my story as I reread through them myself with a fresh mind. For those of you who are wondering, I'm also planning on finishing the story this time around (as long as my motherboard doesn't get fried 5 times in 2 months again). I'll welcome any reviews and hopefully you'll all enjoy the story (and if you've already read some of the chapters I post, I hope you'll enjoy reading a slightly touched up version  ). I'm not really sure about the new rating system so the story will be rated a T until I figure it out. Enjoy.