Author's Note: I put a few months in the opening line so it would connect with some of my previous stories, but if you would rather it connect with the series, imagine it's 2-3 years (probably where Series 3 will take place).
Now, as always, I hope you all enjoy :)
A few months had past since the death of Sherlock Holmes. Details were still a bit fuzzy. No one understood why he would...jump.
A press conference was held by Detective Greg Lestrade to clear things up with the press.
As the press conference began, dozens of people, photographers, reporters, and interviewers in the audience were eagerly anticipating it. Lestrade went up to the mic with a sense of composure to him, but you can tell in his face
"Ladies and gentlemen...I know there has been a lot of confusion lately about the *gulp* fall of a great man."
Lestrade thinks for a moment, realizing he could have chosen his words a little better as that sounded both cheeky and sounded like a joke in poor taste. He continues.
"Now that man was a brilliant young man. There are rumors in light of recent events scandalizing his name. Claiming that he wasn't the man he appeared to be."
He says in disgust...
"A fraud...that's what they call him these days."
He pulls himself together.
"Well, I can confirm, off the cuff, not just as a detective, but as a...friend that he was the most brilliant man any of us can hope to meet or hope to be. He could be difficult from time to time...well, all the time...but he always got the job done. Cases that everyone on the force, including myself, struggled with for months, he could have it solved within minutes. I'm sure he could be called many things. Strange. Stubborn. Eccentric. Arrogant. Egotistical. Neurotic. But never fraud. Try genius. Try clever. Driven. Dedicated. Gifted. Cunning. Clever. Brilliant..but never fraud. He was as legit and honest as one can get...which makes this case even more bizarre. No one understands why he jumped, but what we do know and what all you should know is a great man died that day..."
Lestrade is interrupted by the sound of everyone in the room's phones ringing. It seems everyone receives the same text...
WRONG!
Lestrade checks his phone and receives the same text. His heart nearly sinks. It can't be, he says to himself.
"Um...as I was saying...a brilliant man named Sherlock Holmes died and he-"
Everyone's phones ring again and get the same text...
WRONG!
"What the Hell..." Lestrade thinks to himself. He continues riding this off as a sick prank. He can't believe HE could be back. There's no way HE could be back. He saw him in the morgue afterall. He starts feeling confused and nervous.
"Now...um...any questions?"
A man shouted from the back...
"I have a question..."
The man sounded familiar to Lestrade and everyone else. The room practically goes silent. The man starts to come out of the crowd. He was tall, skinny...and wearing a Deerstalker.
"You've done a fine job with this little conference, really appreciate those words you said by the way, but if you don't mind, I'd like to take over my own conference. It's only fitting."
The man takes off the Deerstalker and throws it to the ground to reveal himself to be...
"SHERLOCK?!"
Shouts a beyond shocked Lestrade as photographers begin to snap pictures of the man.
"Of course it is. Who else?"
Lestrade faints and falls to the ground.
Sherlock can't help but give a sly grin.