Conversation between Coppers (or the reason why Lestrade took Sherlock on)
AN: Please review. (Discworld readers may see a familiar face...)
Lestrade shivered as he leaned against the wall, the cold was soaking into his bones as he pondered his decision. Should he let that manic help? He shouldn't. It was against all the rules, and even if he could swing Holmes as civilian contractor the press would crucify him when they found about Sherlock's habits. "Druggie better than Yard" "Psychopath solves his own crimes" he could see the headlines already. There would be no chance of promotion after it happened. He sighed; why did it have to be like this? A guy with that kind of talent, shouldn't be... wasted like that.
"It doesn't get any easier." Lestrade jumped and span only to see a shadowy figure carefully lighting a cigarette leaning on the wall chin tucked in as he cupped his hands around the flame. "Being a copper that is, well in my time they called it the watch but it was pretty much the same thing."
Lestrade stared open mouthed, the stranger was wearing some sort of leather kilt and armor – just his luck - two loonies in one night, he started to slowly move towards the exit of the alley. Maybe the guy wouldn't notice 'till too late...
"No need for that. I'm not here to hurt you or anyone else, just to give you some advice from one copper to another."
Lestrade met his eyes and they were old. They were the street and they were the law. They were eyes that had seen terrible things but had been forced to make sure justice was done despite the consequences for the owner. Refusing bribes even though they could but food on the table, arresting the murderer even though it would mean watching the shadows for the rest of his life for the enemies he had made. The price of being the law even though it ate at you.
Lestrade realized that, yes this man was a copper and any advice given from this strange character would be well worth listen to.
"Firstly I would give smoking up if I were you. It was drink for me for years until Sybil came along and it destroys your life and doesn't give you the control you need. Stop it before it controls you." He sighed, age showing in his face. How old was he? A small unoccupied part of Lestrade's brain wandered. Could be a weathered 40, 50, 60 even.
"Secondly, part of being a copper is that you have to make the decisions no-one else wants to, the tough ones that will haunt you in your sleep. My advice to you is to follow my example – do what's right and fudge the paperwork afterwards. Night."
Lestrade watched him proceed carefully out of the alley in the foggy street. Making a sudden decision Lestrade followed only to bump into his superior.
"Did you see a man so tall, in armor come this way?" the question burst out without permission, not even consulting with his brain to mouth filter. Great, now my boss is going to think I'm an idiot, Lestrade thought furiously.
To his great surprise his superior had a look of recognition on his face "No, I didn't see him but... He was wearing armor and claimed he was a copper wasn't he?" Lestrade nodded. "Well don't worry he's the coppers ghost except we don't believe in ghosts and we never mention him to anyone, 'specially civilians. He gave you advice right?" Again Lestrade nodded. "Well I'd suggest taking his advice. Old Esvee knows coppering and he wants justice done. He was one of the first coppers and we reckon he'll help the last."
Lestrade, after a couple of strange text messages and confrontations, got his Consulting Detective with issues and the privilege of being insulted several times a day even if he didn't understand them all. And he learned to fudged the paperwork well.