"Put your weapons down, you're surrounded!" Dimmock shouted, their torches throwing everything into stark relief. "Lestrade!" he added, in a more dumbfounded tone.

Donovan found the light switch and they all turned off their torches. "Good to see you alive and well, sir," she said, relief evident in spite of herself. "How are you, Ms. Hooper?"

Lestrade and the mousy coroner looked at each other, then at the knives in their hands, and smiled sheepishly. "Guess the cavalry came in time, eh?" the elder D.I. said, handing his knife to the long-haired woman, who smiled as she tucked it into her surprisingly large pockets. "Got everyone?" he asked Donovan and Dimmock, who were staring at them.

"Hm? Oh, yes," Dimmock is the first to shake out of it. "This was the last room. Glad to find you both alive and well and all."

"So, how'd you find us?" Lestrade asks briskly, as if he's used to getting kidnapped and freed. Then again, this is Greg Lestrade, who consulted with Sherlock Holmes regularly, so who knows what his work load is like. Already, he looks like he's back in charge, although he screwed up spectacularly, with Sgt. Donovan escorting Ms. Hooper to the waiting ambulance.

"Your sergeant noted the use of bus stops as drop off points, most of which had this area in common. Anderson found some evidence pointing to a number of warehouses in this area, but only this building seemed to show some recent use," the younger D.I. answered, "we rounded up the SWAT team and here we are."

"You're generous with your credits," Lestrade noted, and Dimmock made a face. "I'm guessing this is all going in your report."

"Yes," Dimmock said shortly. "Everything."

The older man looked like he aged about ten years right there, but he just nodded. "Right then. You'll have my report on your desk tomorrow."

"My," Dimmock blinked. So he was officially in charge, now that it was all over? Grand timing, that. Then again, there was no way Lestrade could write up the final report, not after what he did. "Fine. Need some coffee?"

"Nah, had enough of that," the older man grimaced. "See you tomorrow."

The younger man watched with a bemused expression as Lestrade made his way to the ambulance, joining the young woman and using her orange blanket to wrap it around them both. Dimmock snorted, then went back to the office, where he stretched and smiled. Other people might turn their noses up at writing the final report, but to him, he considered it something akin to high marks at school. Yes, he was that boy in school who was an overachiever, but he could almost feel the tingles at the tips of his fingertips as he switched his computer on. The fact that the person who was originally in charge actually turned it over to him was icing on the cake. "Ahhh," he sighed happily, feeling the power of being in charge fortifying him for an all-nighter.