Lestrade was working when Greene nervously poked his head in through the office door. "Um, Inspector?" He said, fully expecting to be thrown out of the man's office. Instead, Lestrade merely waved him in.

Greene entered the small room, and quickly took the other available seat. Lestrade kept writing. The younger man fidgeted, trying to think of how to go about this.

He had to be crazy for coming in here, of all places. But then, in spite of the beating the man had given the younger Inspector, he did seem to be the least hostile towards Greene out of the bunch. And if that doctor was to be believed, Lestrade had at least seen some potential in the young man.

Lestrade set aside his papers and looked the young man over. "Your uncle was responsible for your promotion to Inspector." He commented, and Greene nodded. "How long were you a Constable before you were promoted?"

Greene's gaze fell, and he set himself to studying the Inspector's nearly spotless desk. "Less than a month." He admitted sheepishly. Lestrade's only response was to nod, as if he had expected something of the sort. Greene took a deep breath. "Um, Inspector, about yesterday?"

Something shifted in those dark eyes. "What about it?" Lestrade asked, his voice low.

Greene swallowed nervously. "Well, it's just, I've never seen anything like that before."

Lestrade sighed. "I didn't think you had." Dark eyes bored into Greene's as if they could reach in and see everything that was tumbling around in his skull. "Things like that, they either make you or break you in the force."

The challenge had been laid out. Lestrade was waiting to see how Greene would respond.

The younger man found himself staring again at the Inspector's desk. "They killed three children." He said at last. "I didn't sleep last night. All I could think about was that little girl. How do you deal with something like that? How do you sit there and act like none of that happened?" He didn't really expect an answer. "I'm sorry, Inspector, but I don't think that's something I could do. I don't think it's something I want to be able to do."

Lestrade was silent for a long moment. "Not everyone's cut out for the force." He finally said. "We deal with death and violence and horror every day, things that most people couldn't imagine, let alone face day after day. There's no shame in that, Greene. It just means you aren't meant for this kind of work."

The younger man relaxed, just a bit. "I've made a fool of myself, here." He hadn't meant to say that; it had just slipped out.

Lestrade chuckled. The sound caused Greene to start, anticipating some sort of agreement. Instead the Inspector shrugged. "We all make idiots of ourselves at one time or another, Greene. What's important is that we learn from it."

Tentatively, Greene smiled. "I'll try to remember that, Inspector. Thank you."


Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and company do not belong to me.