Lestrade looked over at the curly heads bent excitedly over the victim- one head a smaller, lighter version of the other- and shook his head. Running has hand over his eyes, he contemplated again how he had ever let Sherlock talk him into allowing a seven year old boy into a crime scene. But this was the third body in as many days; all the victims lived on the same block and all apparently dropped dead for no reason. Molly was running tox screens, but nothing odd had shown up yet. He was stumped with this case, and as much as he hated to admit it, he needed Sherlock Holmes' crime scene magic. Today, however, that meant that he came with the ring bearer from John's wedding in tow.

Lestrade had been flabbergasted when Sherlock had arrived at the house followed by a wide-eyed Archie. Sherlock had explained at Lestrade's questioning look that Archie's mom had been desperate for a last minute sitter, since the Watson's, his usual sitters, were still on their honeymoon. She had called Sherlock since he and Archie had gotten on so well at the wedding, and Sherlock had grudgingly agreed.

"He's tolerable and not a complete imbecile. He did solve the case at the wedding," Sherlock explained, glancing fondly down at Archie. A dark look then entered his eyes.

"Plus, I was bored," Sherlock muttered.

Lestrade's heart had squeezed at that confession. Sherlock had been trying to keep a brave face on, throwing himself into as many cases as he could to keep himself busy. But Lestrade had helped Sherlock write his best man's speech. He had noticed that Sherlock had left the reception soon after the first dance, and he had read Sherlock's entry and the comments on John's blog. He observed now how thin and ragged Sherlock looked, like he hadn't really been eating or sleeping much in the last couple weeks. Lestrade, though he might not be able to see half the things that Sherlock could see, could easily deduce that his longtime friend was suffering from a broken heart.

For the last week, he had worried about Sherlock. He was starting to show some of the danger signs, and the last thing he needed was for Sherlock to slip back into old habits. It had taken him and Mycroft forever to get him clean the last time- the time before he had met John Watson. Sherlock obviously needed a companion who shared his enthusiasm for cases and adventure to keep him straight. It was for this reason alone that Lestrade had finally relented and allowed Sherlock to bring Archie into the house.

"But, for God's sake, keep him away from the victim! It's already bad enough he's at a crime scene. I don't want to get a call from his mother yelling at me because her son is having nightmares!"

Of course, Sherlock did not listen. After looking around the kitchen and spending quite some time at the window looking into the back garden, all the while pointing out things to Archie, he had walked over to the victim, Archie following avidly behind. Thankfully, the victim was fully dressed and with no outward signs of cause of death. In fact, it looked just like she was sleeping on the ground.

"Are you seriously allowing a child at a crime scene?" Donovan had demanded. "Shouldn't we be rescuing the child from the freak? We certainly don't want another one like him..."

"Oi, shut it!" was all that he had said, sending her outside to make sure the house stayed secure.

Lestrade now stood a little ways away watching the two and marvelling at how similar they both were. Archie was intensely curious and seemed awkward and unsure of himself, much as he imagined a younger Sherlock must have been like.

He strolled over to the body in order to get a report from Sherlock. As he got closer, he was able to overhear the two murmuring to each other.

"Notice how pale her hands are. And look there, Archie."

Sherlock was pointing to the victim's collarbone, where a slight rash could just be seen. Archie nodded his head, wide eyes taking in everything that Sherlock pointed out, absorbing everything that Sherlock was telling him.

"Wow, cool."

Lestrade covered his mouth in order to hide his smile. Sherlock Holmes was teaching. He hadn't even done this with John with the pink lady. He had just rattled off deductions, trying to impress his new friend.

I should have known, then. I should have seen it.

Shaking his head, he cleared his throat, breaking the spell of the lesson. He tried his hardest not to laugh as curls bounced when their heads snapped up at the same time, both sets of eyes glaring at him for interrupting as they both stood up.

"So, what have we got? Have you figure it out?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Please, George. This case was so tediously easy. Why did you even call me in on this?"

Lestrade closed his eyes, taking a deep breathe and willing himself not to take Sherlock's quips personally. It would not do to yell in from of Archie.

"Fine, Mr. Know-It-All. How was she murdered, then?"

"She wasn't murdered," Sherlock scoffed. "This was an accidental death. All of the deaths were accidental deaths."

"What? How?"

Sherlock turned to Archie, hands clasped behind his back, and bent down to look him straight in the eyes.

"Think you can explain it, Archie?"

Archie's eyes went wide, and then his lips turned up in a smile that lit up his whole face, showing his excitement.

"Really, Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes, I think you've earned that right." Sherlock winked at him.

Archie took a deep breath, and then turned to face Lestrade.

"They were all killed by Nerium poisoning."

"What?" asked Lestrade, looking to Sherlock.

"Nerium oleander, commonly known simply as oleander. It's an ornamental bush that produces flowers in the Apocynaceae family -"

"I know what oleander is, Sherlock. How do you know it was poison?"

"She has a rash caused by a dermatitis reaction to a toxin. Also, her hands are pale since the poison caused her heart to slow down before she died. Oleandrin, a toxin in oleanders, is one of the few poisons that would cause both reactions."

"Okay, but how were they all poisoned? And how was it accidental? None of the victims own oleanders."

Sherlock looked to Archie, who walked over to the window again.

"If you look in the neighbor's yard there, you can see oleanders as well as a beehive." Archie looked to Sherlock, radiating self-pride.

"Yes, it was Archie who noticed the beehive. He solved the case again!" Sherlock gave Archie one of his very rare smiles- one Lestrade had only ever seen him give John- before returning his attention to Lestrade.

"There's a plate with toast crumbs and drops of honey on the table, and a just opened jar of homemade honey in the kitchen. Obviously, the neighbor canned her honey and gave it to her neighbors, unaware of the fact that her bees were making honey from her oleanders, and that oleander honey is just as poisonous as eating the leaves or stems."

"So they were all killed by honey?"

Sherlock and Archie rolled their eyes at the same time. If Lestrade hadn't have been so exasperated, he would have smiled at their twin actions.

"You know how much I hate repeating myself. Yes, honey. I'm quite certain that you will find a similar jar of honey at each of the other victims house, and that the honey will test positive for Oleandrin."

"But how do you know it wasn't murder? How do you know that the lady next door wasn't just trying to kill all her neighbors?"

Surprisingly, it was Archie who answered. "Have you looked at her? She looks like my Gran, and my Gran is too old to commit any murders."

Sherlock snorted, smirking at Lestrade. "Well, there you have it. Perfectly reasonable explanation to me. Now do you need us for anything else, or can your bumbling idiots settle the rest on their own?"

Lestrade sighed. "Yeah, fine. I think we can take it from here."

"Well then, we'll be on our way. Come along, Archie."

The two started to leave, but right before they left the room, Archie turned back and ran up to Lestrade, giving him a quick hug.

"Thank you, Mr. Lestrade."

Archie smiled up at him briefly, and then ran back to Sherlock, quietly slipping his small hand into Sherlock's much larger one. Sherlock looked down at their joined hands, one corner of his lips quirking upward quickly, before they continued out the door.

"That was so cool, Mr. Holmes! When can we do that again?"

"Hopefully soon. And you can call me Sherlock, Archie."

"Okay. Sherlock? I'm kind of hungry. Can we get some food?"

"Of course. How do you feel about Chinese?"

Lestrade followed them to the door of the house and watched them walk off, hand in hand, talking animatedly about god knows what. He stood there, hands in his pockets and a fond smile on his face, until Donovan walked up and looked at what he was watching.

"Do you think it's a good idea to allow the freak to watch a kid, boss?"

"Before today, I might have said no. But I think those two are just what each of them needs right now."

A/N- I took some artistic liberties with the case. Oleander honey is poisonous, but usually causes someone to be sick enough to get medical attention before it actually kills someone. We'll just pretend it stopped the victims hearts before they got sick enough to seek medical attention.

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