From Hades Lord of the Dead: "Does your conscience ever bother you?"
It was too soon, I thought, for such a question. In the heat of the moment of course, looking out over the frigid waters of the Thames, it might be understandable. It flowed faster and deeper these days than it had in times past. I had no doubt our quarry had met his end in the waters.
Inspector Lestrade was glaring hotly at my friend, who was staring out over the river. In all the time I had known him, Holmes had seldom expressed any sentiment in line with Lestrade's question.
"Are you frequently bothered by yours?"
Lestrade didn't miss a beat. "Every day. You know the stakes."
Holmes gave the river a small smile. "I feel in some ways less constructed yet more pressured than you, Lestrade. You have the law to govern your every action, while I as a free agent must hold myself to account. Every action must sit well with me."
He turned at last. "Does my conscience bother me? No. But have no doubt that is a persistent, invisible specter ever hiding his my hand."
Lestrade have him a hard look before turning away with a mighty sigh. Holmes left the railing and headed my way.
"Come, Watson. Our work is finished here."
A/N: short and sweet; at a wedding