We finished dinner and Elisabeth shooed Holmes, Addison, and myself into the sitting room while they cleared the table. Addison offered to help, but was promptly thanked for his offer and refused.

"Do you want to try to wait for Lestrade?" I asked Holmes quietly as we followed Addison out of the kitchen. "We might do better to try again tomorrow."

Holmes shook his head. "I want some answers. He may find some other way to deflect us tomorrow." He told me decisively, and settled back into the armchair.

Addison settled on the couch again. I hesitated, but eventually also took a seat on the couch.

The room grew quiet. The three of us sat there in silence, not entirely certain what to say to each other.

It was not entirely uncomfortable, however, aside from Holmes' impatience as we waited for Lestrade. I was used to long periods of silence with Holmes, and Addison did not seem put out by the lack of conversation, so we were comfortable enough as we waited for either Lestrade to return or the women to finish in the kitchen.

Lestrade had not returned by the time Elisabeth and the girls joined us. They talked with Addison for a while, but he seemed to realize that something was not quite right, for it was not long before he excused himself.

Amy walked him to the door and said good night, and then she and Olivia wasted little time in heading for bed, both claiming they were rather tired.

"He forgot." Elisabeth said, as soon as the girls were gone. I did not ask who she spoke of. I did not need to.

"He did." I agreed, offering her an apologetic smile. "He seems rather preoccupied with his work lately. How is he, really?"

Elisabeth shrugged. "He's been busy. We haven't talked much." She tried to smile, but didn't quite manage it.

I frowned. "Are you all right, Elisabeth?" I asked.

The woman sighed. "I'll be fine, John." She said, rubbing her forehead wearily. "Thank you for asking."

I considered pressing the issue, but the fact that Elisabeth had declined to say what was bothering her meant that she did not care to discuss it, at least not with me. I therefore let the issue drop, but filed it away with all the other things involving Lestrade that concerned me.

It was perhaps half an hour after Addison had left that the Inspector finally returned, mercifully without Gregson. He looked from me to Holmes and finally to his wife, and sighed.

"You want an explanation." He said wearily, collapsing onto the couch next to me.

"I do." Holmes affirmed.

Lestrade nodded, and looked at his wife. "And you deserve one." Elisabeth didn't smile, but raised an eyebrow at her husband.

He rubbed his face with his hands as he tried to figure out where to start. We waited, trying with limited success to be patient. Even Holmes seemed content to give the man time to think, now that he knew he was going to get the answers to his questions.

"Superintendent Crane has heard of you, Mr. Holmes," Lestrade finally began, "and was less than pleased to hear of the Yard's renewed association with you." He folded his hands together in front of his face as he continued, more openly agitated than I had seen him for some time. "He announced shortly after your return that the Yard has no need of your assistance, and that anyone found to be consulting with you on any case will be severely reprimanded." He paused then, as if to give Holmes time to comment.

He did. "You've been warned not to associate with me before, Lestrade, and it's never made any difference to you. What makes this time any different?"

Lestrade hesitated. "Past Superintendents valued me highly enough as an Inspector not to dismiss me over a trifle." He admitted.

"Crane doesn't think he needs you?" I demanded. Lestrade shrugged.

"He's a fool, then." Elisabeth noted coolly. "But he can't fire you just for that, Giles."

"No," Lestrade agreed slowly, "he couldn't, if it were just that." He grimaced, but reluctantly explained. "The Superintendent doesn't think I've been pulling my weight down at the Yard." He said grimly.

"Why? Because of your arm?" Elisabeth demanded. "That's ridiculous! I don't know how he would even know about it."

Lestrade looked uncomfortable. "Did Gregson mention it?" I asked. Lestrade blinked.

"What?" He asked. Then his expression cleared. "Gregson isn't out to get me, Doctor." He assured me. "No, there was an incident down at the Yard. It doesn't help that the others are still trying to coddle me." He grumbled.

Holmes looked confused. I made a mental note to fill him in the accident that had nearly cost Lestrade his right arm later.

"Crane didn't like you when you were Inspectors together." Elisabeth recalled. "If it's the same Crane."

"It is." Lestrade confirmed.

"How serious is this?" I wanted to know. I answered my own question. "Serious enough that you been trying to make it look as if you were trying to keep Holmes out of it." Lestrade ran a hand through his hair, but didn't comment.

"You couldn't be blamed if Hopkins invited us somewhere and we just happened to be there when you showed up." I realized.

Holmes waited, but Lestrade remained silent. "How does Gregson fit into all this?" He asked the Inspector.

Lestrade sighed. "That-I can't explain all of it, Mr. Holmes." He said apologetically. "Not yet. Suffice it to say that things are nowhere near as bad between the two of us as it seems."

That was somewhat reassuring, but it still left me worried.

"What does Crane have against Watson?" Holmes demanded. I looked up, surprised. Lestrade let loose another long sigh.

"The Strand." Lestrade offered.

"His stories?" Holmes replied. Lestrade nodded.

"Crane thinks poorly of you, Mr. Holmes, so any association the Doctor has with you is, in his mind, a strike against him."

"Which is why you and Gregson told Crane that Watson was learning from you." Holmes said flatly.

Lestrade squirmed uncomfortably and his face colored. "I do apologize for that." He told Holmes. "We want to keep the Doctor, if we can." He cleared his throat. "We were also trying to keep the attention off of you."

"Understandable, I suppose." Holmes conceded. "So in summary, you've been running yourself ragged trying to prove to the Superintendent that you can still do your job while trying to hide the fact that I'm helping you with a case and you and Gregson are faking your own private little war. Is that about right?

"More or less." Lestrade mumbled. He shot his wife a look that suggested that she, at least, would be hearing more later. "That's really all I can tell you right now. I hope it's enough."

Holmes frowned. He was still not entirely pleased. "It will have to be." He said at last, after several minutes' consideration. "When do you plan on speaking with the mother of the latest victim?"

Lestrade relaxed minutely. "First thing tomorrow morning." He said. "If you care to be in front of Gregson's home at around eight, I will see you then."

"What happened to pretending not to want my help?" Holmes quipped, still a bit miffed with the Inspector for what he had put us through.

Lestrade seemed to feel it was fair, however. "I'm trying to find a murderer." He said. "Hopefully before he kills again. Crane wants rid of me anyway, so I might as well save him the trouble of finding something else to pick at." He retorted. "I'm through playing his games."

"Tomorrow morning then." Holmes said briskly, rising to his feet.

Lestrade and I followed suit. The Inspector escorted us to the door. "Goodnight, Mr. Holmes. Doctor."

"Goodnight, Lestrade." I replied as Holmes stepped out onto the walk. For a moment I thought I saw uncertainty in the Inspector's eyes, but it was gone before I could be certain it was there or figure out the reason for it.


Disclaimer: Sherlock and the boys do not belong to me.