"This your first corpse, Constable?" Gregson asked sympathetically.
Constable Jonas Harvey swallowed hard, and nodded. "Yes, Inspector." He eyed it warily. "So you want me to do what, sir?"
"Make sure it's dead." Gregson explained. "You see, there's this new idea out, that it's best to introduce the new fellows to a corpse that's already dead and been brought in to get them ready for the day when they'll have to deal with one themselves. So here's this one, and it's actually not in too bad of shape, besides the fact that it's dead, for us to introduce you to."
"And you want me to take its pulse." Harvey said. "But why, if you already know it's dead?"
Gregson shrugged. "Better to have you practice now than start when someone's life may depend on it." He offered. "Just go on up there and take its pulse, there's a good lad."
Harvey swallowed again, and looked over at the other Inspector in the room. Do I have to? Bradstreet solemnly nodded in response to the unspoken question in the Constable's eyes.
Harvey hesitated for but a moment, then took a deep breath, squared his shoulders back, and approached the corpse. Tentatively he reached out to feel for a pulse, as he had been taught. A second later, his eyes widened.
"He's not dead!" He declared.
Gregson and Bradstreet exchanged a puzzled glance. "Are you sure?" Gregson asked, not the slightest bit alarmed. "Perhaps you'd better try his wrist, just to be sure."
Harvey shot the two Inspectors and incredulous look, but obliged. "He has a pulse." Harvey told the two men.
"Is he breathing?" Bradstreet wanted to know.
Harvey checked. "Yes. Very lightly but, he's definitely breathing." Gregson was by the corpse in a second. Harvey took the man's approach as permission to back away from the not-so-dead body. It was giving him the creeps.
A hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, scaring him half out of his wits. "Aaaaaah!" He yelped, and tried to jerk away; the corpse only gripped his arm tighter. Then it sat up and opened its eyes.
Dark eyes studied him, then the corpse turned to glare at Gregson. "I don't think this actually accomplishes anything other than leave the Constables terrified at the mere sight of me for the next few months." He growled.
Gregson was grinning. "Oh come on, you know it about scares everyone half to death the first time they come across a corpse that isn't really dead. This way the general public doesn't have to be aware of the fact that quite a few of our Constables scream like little girls."
"I think you just enjoy seeing the expressions on their faces." The corpse retorted. Then he turned his attention to the wide-eyed Constable before him. "Take it easy, son. You've been taken in."
Harvey was breathing, albeit rather quickly, and knew he was turning a rather dark shade of scarlet. "Was this some sort of joke?" He demanded, his voice not as steady as he would have liked.
"You could look at it that way." Bradstreet offered. "Or you could look at it as a learning experience without the humiliation of having your reaction reach the papers like mine did."
"He was inconsolable." Gregson offered. "I tried to cheer him up, tell him that at least he didn't faint, but he wouldn't hear it."
"You fainted?" The corpse asked, a gleam in those dark eyes.
"And you let yours nearly strangle you." Gregson retorted. "This is Lestrade, by the way." He said to Harvey. "He got into a bit of a scrap earlier, and we thought we'd make the most of it."
Harvey eyed the Inspector warily. The man was far too pale, had a number of bruises, quite a few cuts, and a black eye. He looked terrible. Terrible enough to have passed for a corpse, in fact.
"Do you need a doctor?" Harvey asked.
"Nah, he's good." Bradstreet informed the Constable as he put an arm around him and led him out of the room. "If the man can still stand without help, he claims he doesn't need a doctor. But he gave you quite a start there. Are you alright?"
"I certainly don't need a doctor, if that's what you're asking." Harvey replied. He wasn't sure he was pleased with what had just happened, but it was hard to be irritated with Bradstreet.
"I was actually wondering if you needed a drink." Bradstreet explained with a laugh.
Harvey considered this. "I wouldn't say no to one about now, Inspector." He admitted.
"There's a good lad." Bradstreet grinned and slapped the Constable on the shoulder. "Come along, then."
Disclaimer: Sherlock and the boys do not belong to me.
