My, my, it's been so long since I was here! I've had a recent pen name change from Night Writer Z to WhereTheMildThingsAre, so I apologize in advance for any confusion that might lead to. I still intend on finishing some of my older stories, and perhaps re-editing them as well. I really do have a terrible habit of engrossing myself in new fandoms and temporarily misplacing old favorites. Star Trek and Psych have taken up a great deal of my time for the past year or so - and that's not even counting my personal life! In that regard, I'm happy to report that I'll be receiving my Associates Degree in Criminal Justice this spring, and I am currently enrolled in an internship at my local PD. *crosses fingers* Let's hope I can make our favorite consulting detective proud! Haha. :)

But enough of that. About the story! Well, I've been attempting to expand my Holmesian horizons as of late (haven't seen the new movie, though, still a bit nervous to!) and have therefore taken to re-reading some of my favorites. I remembered how Holmes "fondly" identifies Lestrade by his footprints in The Boscombe Valley Mystery: "That left foot of yours with its inward twist is all over the place." Noting that, I thought it would be a fun bit of exploratory writing to attempt to explain it. Although, I admit I'm rather rusty, so bear with me! Hopefully I don't butcher the poor fellows too badly.

Chapter Title: Prologue
Author: WhereTheMildThingsAre
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson, Inspector G. Lestrade
Rating: T for safety!
Disclaimer: Public domain though they may be, I still don't own Holmes, Watson, Lestrade, or anything/anyone else included in the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle! I just play with them.

I have mentioned in my previous writings that it was not unusual for Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard to drop in on Holmes and myself of an evening. I feel it is important to note that for all the sarcasm, the snide remarks, and their egos, Holmes and Lestrade tended to get along quite well when we sat talking idly by the fire. It was on one particularly chill autumn night that a rather interesting narrative commenced. We had been discussing one of Lestrade's recent cases (he and Gregson were practically at each other's throats over a series of house fires, one of which had killed a man), and after Holmes and the Inspector had bantered back and forth for a time with my occasional interludes, we fell into a companionable silence.

This was disrupted when we heard small, amused chuckle from around the pipe in Holmes's mouth. I quirked an eyebrow questioningly, noting the sudden mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"You know, Lestrade," Holmes began, tipping his head back to blow blue rings of smoke towards the ceiling, "Watson has been curious lately as to just what causes that inward twist seen in your left footprint."

I very nearly choked, having inhaled sharply on my cigar through surprise. Coughing harshly, I felt the Inspector in question thumping a hand on my back and I raised a hand to stop him. I glared at Holmes, who seemed far too amused by the situation, while I struggled to regain my breath. I offered Lestrade an apologetic glance once I'd done so, clearing my throat and wiping tears from the corners of my eyes.

"I certainly don't mean to pry. It's only that I know it couldn't have been a pre-existing condition or you would have never been hired by the Yard and so I wondered if it had been due to some injury in the line of duty," I explained quickly, certain that the heat I was feeling wasn't coming entirely from the fire. "I apologize if I've offended you."

"No offense taken, Doctor," Lestrade responded. "Being that you're a medical man, it's an understandable curiosity. Though, I'm surprised you decided to bring the matter up, Mr. Holmes."

"Really? I can't imagine why," Holmes remarked airily.

"Oh, come now, you know as well as I do," Lestrade chided.

"Do I?"

"Mr. Holmes."

"Oh, alright, alright," Holmes relented at last. "Though I wonder, do you have any objection towards the tale being told?"

"Do you?" Lestrade countered.

"I fear you two will drive me quite mad if you keep this up," I cut in, certain now that there was some strange secret that I was not privy to.

They exchanged a glance; Lestrade nodded, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs, and Holmes waved a hand to proceed, puffing once more upon his pipe. My friend looked to me, knowing that he held my utmost attention.

"It is interesting to note, Watson, that the tale you're about to hear encompasses not only the reason for that inward twist but also the very first case that Lestrade consulted me upon," Holmes informed me.

"Just a minute, Mr. Holmes! If I recall correctly, there was no consulting of any sort. You just had a nasty habit of showing up at crime scenes," Lestrade said. He snorted. "Not that that's changed much."

"Very well, I shall rephrase. You did not actively seek my help until half-way through the case," Holmes clarified.

"I suppose that's closer to the truth," Lestrade admitted in a somewhat reluctant manner.

"Gentlemen, not to be inconsiderate, but if you're squabbling this much over the details before even beginning your story, I wonder very much if you could ever finish it," I said, not without some amusement.

"My dear Watson, that sounds like a challenge," Holmes said, eyes suddenly alight. "Wouldn't you say so, Inspector Lestrade?"

"Oh, indeed it does, Mr. Holmes. And it simply wouldn't do to back down from a challenge, would it?" Lestrade queried.

"Certainly not! Alright Watson, set your terms!" Holmes proclaimed, refilling his pipe.

I had to smile at this, shaking my head. As I'd said, we three could get along quite well when we truly wanted to. It was pleasant to find the mood in the room so affable that night and I found myself wishing to preserve it. It was then that the idea struck me quite suddenly. I leaned back in my seat, puffing upon my cigar as I mulled it over, admittedly rather pleased with the plan I'd concocted. We would see just how long Holmes and Lestrade could stand each other.

"Very well," I said at last. "Here is what I propose: You will have two weeks to tell whatever tale it is you have in store between the two of you. Undoubtedly, it's a rather lengthy story, so between that and the inevitable time spent between professional and personal matters I feel it will be an adequate challenge. If you can do that, then in two weeks time dinner and drinks will be on me wherever you would like."

I watched carefully as they considered my offer, Holmes with his thin legs drawn up to his chest and a spark in his eyes, and Lestrade settled comfortably in his seat with a thumb hooked in his waistcoat pocket. The Inspector nodded sharply. Holmes clapped his hands together, rubbing them eagerly as he turned his attention to me.

"Watson, you have yourself a deal," he said around his pipe.

"Excellent," I replied earnestly. Having given me even that slight bit of information earlier, I was anxious to see just what was ahead of me. "Your two weeks starts now."

"Lestrade, why don't you begin? It would be a great deal easier if we detailed the case first," Holmes said.

The Inspector straightened in his seat ever so slightly, tilting his head to the right as he began to recall the details.

"As you wish, Mr. Holmes," he replied, stroking his chin. "Now, let me see… Well, Doctor, it all began with a murder."

And there's the prologue. I'll admit, though I have a storm of ideas, I don't have a lot of direction as yet, so we'll just have to see where this goes! Again, if I've mangled the boys something terrible, feel free to call me out on it.