Here's the last half of chapter 3 and the last bit of our story. Lestrade narrates. BIG thank you to reviewers, the rest of you, GET BUSY!
Nooka-you are a beautiful, wonderful person and I love you. Thank you. (hands nooka an entire batch of cookies) my ego thanks you too (ego hands nooka a plate of cheese in her favorite flavor-sorry, I don't know what type of cheese you like, but apparently my ego does)
Jadesaber-Thanks for reviewing. Cliffhangers are fun :-) (You have a totally super cool pen name!) woah valley girl moments, sorry. Living so close to California is obviously going to my head (slaps self)
Soloviolin- Always write down the weird ideas you get oh so early in the morning. There are a few gems. I guess the plot bunnies visit me in my dreams or something. I don't know. Hope you enjoyed it.
Valiowk- I don't know if I responded to you yet, but thanks for the review. You were my first, so double thanks. I believe I said I'd review for the first person who reviewed me, but sadly, I don't know much at all about x-men (I know, I know, its a crime. My friends all constantly tell me so. One day I'll sit down and watch it while reading Da Vinci Code at the same time, and then I'll be cool again.) Thanks for your review. I'm glad you like the style, its something I work a lot on.
Ok, on to part 3 1/2 of our story:
After waiting an hour for Holmes to return from his "walk" I concluded he wasn't coming back any time soon and rose to go, nodding goodbye to a very disgruntled Watson on my way out. He hated it when Holmes skipped meals, especially if no one else was there to enjoy the left over food.
Holmes really can be strange sometimes I thought to myself as I exited 221B. I mean, what normal man reveals an intimate secret and then runs off without so much as a "goodbye?" I shook my head. Never in a million years will I understand Sherlock Holmes.
It took several minutes of standing on the curb in front of 221B cursing the cold and the evil robots that had hidden my car for me to remember that the hovercar was in the shop for repairs. I set off to find a cab, grumbling and huddling closer into my coat to ward off the cold, and it was in this irritated and uncomfortable state that I ran into Sherlock Holmes. Literally.
"Oh zed!" I exclaimed in surprise, the impact of the collision winded me briefly.
"I do apologize, I didn't see you there," a cultured English accent said somewhere above me.
"Holmes?" He reached down his hand to help me up, chuckling in surprise.
"Lestrade! What an odd coincidence."
"Its fate Holmes." I sighed. If it wasn't now, when would it ever happen? "We need to talk."
"I quite agree. Might I suggest somewhere out of the cold?"
"You might, but Watson is currently making dinner at 221B and if we went back there he'd force food down our throats."
"And such a condition is not terribly conducive to discussion." He agreed. "Very well then, let us walk. We turned and headed in the direction Holmes had come from, towards the waterfront.
We walked in silence, staring at our feet and trying our best to ignore the increasingly uncomfortable atmosphere that seemed to surround us like the fog. At last I looked over at Holmes, walking with his hands behind his back, his hat brim pulled down over his eyes in an effort to ward off the cold. "Well, Holmes."
"Well, Lestrade?" He stopped and faced me. Its now or never that little voice said inside my head, while the rest of me protested, coming up with millions of reasons for why this was a bad idea. I took a deep breath and looked at Holmes.
"Lestrade, I apologize for running out on you the way I did. You must understand, I am not very good at expressing my feelings. It is something I have always tried to avoid. My general opinion is that emotion interferes with my work, but there are times where it must be expressed and embraced." Here he paused and my mind raced. Was he trying to tell me what I think he was trying to tell me? His next words confirmed it. "I…care very deeply about you and…"
At this point in his speech, I interrupted Holmes by stepping forward so that we were practically nose to nose. We stood so close I could feel the heat of his body and smell the slightly musty, yet pleasant scent of his clothing. His breath was hot on my cheek. He was breathing hard. "I have not been thinking about Irene, Lestrade." He said softly.
"No?" I whispered as well, and our bodies moved closer. Oh god, what am I doing? This is a mistake. Those voices were still doing battle in my head.
"No." He replied. Somehow I found the courage to look into his fathomless blue-grey eyes. They were filled with confusion, fear, and something else. Love, I thought. I turned away.
He guided my head back towards his face with strong fingers on my chin. Those eyes bored into me. "We have been hiding for too long. It is time we were honest with each other."
To hell with caution and propriety, I thought and leaned forward before I had time to second guess myself. My hand found its way to the back of his head of its own accord and my fingers entwined themselves in his uncombed blonde hair. No turning back now I thought, and pressed my lips to his.
For a frightening moment Holmes stiffened and did not respond. Briefly, I wondered if I had misjudged his words. After a terrifying millisecond (which felt more like an hour) his arms wrapped around my waist and his lips pressed on mine with the same force. His hand moved up my spine to my hair and I shuddered.
He pulled away looking at me with concern. "You are cold."
"No shit Sherlock." I replied. I have always wanted to say that to him. He looked confused. "It's an expression." I explained with a slightly lopsided grin. He smiled at me and pulled me closer, wrapping his Inverness around our bodies. I rested my head on his shoulder, reveling in the warmth our bodies created. His arms were clasped tightly around my shoulders as if he were afraid I might try to get away. Wow, I just kissed my childhood idol, I thought suddenly. Incredible.
"You understand, of course, how potientially dangerous this whole thing is?" He whispered quietly into my ear. He would try to be logical at a time like this.
"Yes, yes I know there are complications. But do we have to think about them now?" I complained. Way to spoil the moment, Holmes.
"If Moriarty finds this out, it could put you in unnecessary danger." He said, he sounded worried.
"And if Greyson finds out, he'll have my badge." I replied. "I know the risks, Holmes, and so do you. I've tried to reason with myself, believe me. Myself and I have had many interesting conversations about you."
He laughed and crooked his head so that he was looking at my face. "You shouldn't talk to yourself, Lestrade. It's never a good sign." I hit him playfully on his arm. "In all seriousness, Beth, Moriarty must not find out. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you."
"Me neither, Holmes. I would have said something to you much sooner if I hadn't been afraid of the consequences. But, I'm willing to run the risks if you are."
For answer he cupped my head in his hands and kissed me gently. His hands ran down my neck to the small of my back, and the skin on my spine tingled with his touch. I ran my hands through his hair, across his strong jawbone and over his shoulders and upper chest, wanting to remember the moment, the feel of his body, and the warmth our bodies created covered with his Inverness. Around us, the city seemed to stop. It felt like we were suspended in time.
After an eternity, he pulled away again. "Poor Watson will be wondering what happened to us. He puts up such a fuss whenever I skip meals. He reminds me of Mrs. Hudson in a way. Shall we go back and enjoy his handiwork?"
"I would hate to keep him waiting too long. The world has enough troubles without adding an impatient, overprotective robot to the mix."
"Quite right, Lestrade. Come." He untangled himself, buttoning his Inverness and straightening his deerstalker, which had been pushed back to rest on the back of his head, the brim crowning his face like a halo.
After he had straightened himself, we set off for Bakerstreet. I didn't realize until we were almost there that we had walked the entire way hand in hand. Eat your heart out, Irene Adler.
THE END
(or is it the beginning?)
A/N: Well, I've finished it! There may be a sequel on the way, one with more mystery and action and less fluff. Let me know what you think of it. Is it ok? Are you drowning in the fluff? I had fun writing it, so there will definitely be more. (sorry to the readers of my other Holmes stuff, that has been put on hold due to lack of good ideas. Suggestions welcome) Thanks so much for reading. Please REVIEW!
To all fans of SH22: I have a plan. Its high time they released the entire season on DVD, and I bet we can get them to do it if we can find enough support. I'm going to find out where to write letters to (Maureen, you seem to be an expert on all things sherlockian, any ideas?). The rest of you, your job is to find as many people as possible and get them to write letters to the people at DIC requesting them to release the full season of sh22 on DVD. Make sure you write one yourself. Together, we may be able to actually get this to happen! I will post the address when I find it in this story. I will also post it on the message board on Maureen's site. Spread the word, lets make this happen! (today the cable company, tomorrow the world! Muahahahahahahaha)