A/N: The other day in English we were assigned to read a short story out of our books. Usually these short stories are perfectly boring. Imagine my surprise and delight when I opened to the page to find 'The Speckled Band'. Best assignment ever.
This is a 221b from Lestrade's POV.
They came strolling up the path arm in arm, the doctor with a bigger smile on his face than I'd seen in a long time. Three years, perhaps.
It wasn't hard to see that Mr. Holmes was delighted as well. He tried to keep up that aloof façade but his expression of complete content was ill hidden.
A few constables and I had seen him briefly in Camden House, just long enough to confirm that he actually was alive. Of all the tricks he had pulled, of all the dramatic closings to cases, I should say that this was his magnum opus.
I should say it affected more people than he ever thought. Even at the Yard we felt the reverberations of it. There was many a time that I had longed for some advice on a particularly outré case.
We at the Yard sometimes came off as more antagonistic to Holmes than we were. I had the utmost respect for the man; he could just be a bit irritating sometimes.
There was not a man in the Yard that didn't smile when the two of them walked by grinning their heads off.
"Good afternoon, Inspector Lestrade," Holmes said, in a more jovial and amiable tone than I have ever heard out of him.
We were glad to have him back.
