A/N: This is a story I've been promising to write for Khorazir FOREVER! This is based on her wonderful illustration of Sherlock and John at the London Aquarium. You can find it on her tumblr for Nov. 1 of 2011. The plot is borrowed, see details below. This is a case-fic and is unrelated to any of my other Sherlock stories.

Warnings: Hints of slash (pre-slash?), but nothing overt.

Disclaimer: Almost nothing here is mine. The inspiration comes from Khorazir's lovely illustration. The characters belong to ACD/BBC. The plot is adapted from an old "Hawaii 5-0" (1969) episode written by John D. F. Black and Leonard Freeman. I am doing this strictly for fun and as a labor of love and respect for the works I am using. No infringement is intended and no profit is made.

Beta: The always wonderful Jarri Scythe.

Beati Quorum Via Integra Est - 1

Detective Inspector Lestrade stood glumly by the body of the young woman. He knew that every human life was precious, but couldn't help feeling especially depressed over the untimely, cruel deaths of those who should have had so much more to experience. Her smooth, beautiful face seemed to promise a bright future, but her eyes were now forever shut on a world that would never hear her voice again.

Lestrade rubbed his face and scolded himself internally. It was too early in the morning to be getting so maudlin, especially when he was apparently going to have to deal with the Holmes brothers on this case. Mr. Mysteriously Omniscient Mycroft Holmes himself had called Lestrade at home at 6:30 that morning to inform him of the murder and that Sherlock would be along to help with the "legwork." Apparently "legwork" was Holmes-code for anything that required leaving one's office.

Lestrade had dutifully hurried to the crime scene, the London Aquarium. Apparently the victim was a member of their staff, discovered by another. Lestrade couldn't imagine what Mycroft's interest in the case might be. As far as the detective knew, the aquarium was just that, not any kind of front for top secret government research or anything.

Lestrade had arrived to find, to his great surprise, the Man Himself was already there, though remaining inside of his car, parked a little ways away from the Thames. Presumably, he was waiting for his younger brother to show. After staring at the car for a moment and getting no response, Lestrade shrugged his shoulders and walked over to the pedestrian way leading to the aquarium.

Once inside the building, Lestrade was led by a policeman to the victim in the back area, which was off limits to the public, near the huge tank with the hammerhead sharks. Her slight figure was obscured somewhat by the coveralls she was wearing, probably the standard gear for those working to care for the animals behind the scenes. Her long, dark hair pooled on the floor around her.

After speaking to the policemen who had responded to the initial alarm, Lestrade called Sherlock to see if he was on his way. Mycroft had made it clear that he wanted Sherlock to observe the scene before the official forensics team got there. Lestrade had grumbled about this, despite knowing it would get him nowhere.

Sherlock didn't answer his phone, but after leaving an impatient message Lestrade got a text back.

On my way - SH

Sherlock and John took a cab together to the Aquarium in silence.

John was intensely curious, but any attempt to get Sherlock to speculate about a case was never successful. He couldn't help doing it himself, though. He wondered what could have possibly happened at the London Aquarium that would be of such interest to Mycroft that he would bring in Sherlock for assistance. He also wondered how Mycroft could have convinced Sherlock to cooperate so easily. Theoretically, this case must be puzzling, otherwise it would have taken a battle royale to move Sherlock to do his brother's bidding.

It was the sheer novelty of the situation that convinced John to dress hurriedly in order to take up Sherlock's offer to accompany him on the early morning excursion.

Sherlock's phone began to ring. Sherlock looked at the number, grimaced, and rejected the call. A minute later the phone beeped to signal a voicemail. Sherlock sighed, and without listening to the message, sent a brief text.

The taxi pulled up behind a distinctly familiar, large black car. Sherlock was out of the taxi in a flash, turning his collar up against the early morning drizzle, leaving John to pay the cabbie, as usual.

Once John had finished, he turned to see that Mycroft had emerged from his car and was speaking to Sherlock. He hurried over to join the two brothers.

"If it weren't terrible enough that a young woman has been murdered, it was one of the students of the Institute," Mycroft was saying from underneath his umbrella.

"Good morning, John," Mycroft said, giving him a tight smile.

"Morning, Mycroft. What's this about a murder?"

"A student from the British International Institute has been murdered," Mycroft said. John couldn't remember him ever sounding so glum.

"I've never heard of it."

Mycroft sighed.

Sherlock took over, "It's a pet project of Mycroft's. An attempt to build bridges, through education, with students from Britain, other countries, and cultures. At least, that's the official word."

Mycroft looked angry, "Sherlock, you agreed."

"Yes, yes, your school is a beacon of light and hope in the world full of darkness and despair, so we must attempt to save its reputation from being besmirched by this most inconvenient murder."

Mycroft cleared his throat loudly and quickly said, "The identity of the victim has not been officially confirmed yet. If it is indeed one of our students, we need to make sure that this is handled with the utmost care and discretion. Keep me informed."

"Right," Sherlock replied curtly, then turned to John, "shall we?"

John nodded farewell to Mycroft who smiled politely in return as he lowered his umbrella to get back into his car.

Sherlock was striding quickly towards the Aquarium, and John hurried after him.

TBC

A/N: Ok, I'll admit, I'm kind of tying in the idea of Mycroft's "Institute" with some of the background stuff from "The Enemy of My Enemy." My idea is that Alisha was a graduate of the Institute. :-)

But other than that, there's no connection to any of my other Sherlock stories. Feedback, as always, is treasured!