Lestrade's children met him at the door with their usual enthusiasm; within the space of a moment he had one on his back and one hanging from each leg. They chattered at him as they climbed, and Lestrade replied to three different conversations in all the right places while simultaneously hanging his coat and hat, giving the lie to the carefully cultivated impression that the man was capable of focusing on only one thing at a time. Bradstreet was impressed, and filed away confirmation of a long held suspicion for future use.

"Who's that, Da?" Jackie pointed at Sophie. The girl still slept against her father's chest, but uneasily. Bradstreet smiled at the lad perched on the other Inspector's back.

"This is my daughter Sophie," he told the boy. Jackie pulled himself further up his father's back for a better look.

"Why's she sleeping?" He wanted to know.

"Had a rough day, Jackie boy, now let her be," Lestrade said gently, turning his head but not quite able to meet his son's eyes.

His daughters watched from the floor without comment. A moment later three satisfied children broke loose from their father and raced back toward the kitchen to inform their mother of their guests.

Elisabeth Lestrade greeted Bradstreet as if she had been expecting both him and his daughter, though the man was almost certain Lestrade had not warned her that he was bringing a coworker-or said coworker's child-home.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Bradstreet," she said warmly. Her gaze drifted to Sophie where she clung to his chest, and she smiled at the back of the sleeping child's head. "Please, have a seat. I'm fully aware of how heavy they can get even at that age."

Bradstreet tried to avoid imagining any of the Lestrade children hanging off their mother the way they regularly did their father, but the knowing glint in Mrs. Lestrade's eye suggested that she was no more stranger to hauling around children than his own wife. He wondered idly why it had never occurred to him to introduce the two, but he supposed it had something to do with the fact that he usually only saw her when Lestrade invited him over for dinner. He wondered if it would be taking advantage to bring Melissa along sometime, though of course that would mean bringing Sophie as well. He supposed it was a possibility, depending on how things went tonight.

Bradstreet settled gratefully into a chair. Lestrade took the one beside him, barely making it into the seat before his youngest scrambled up into his lap, beaming up at him as she wriggled into a comfortable position.

Mrs. Lestrade started serving dinner, and sighed as she caught sight of her youngest. "Wouldn't you like to sit in your own chair, tonight, Olivia?" she asked, favoring her daughter with an encouraging smile.

The girl looked back at her mother solemnly and shook her head. Across the table, Jackie sighed.

"You're too big to sit in his lap like a baby," he told her, disgusted.

Olivia immediately scowled. "I'm not a baby!" she insisted. Looking up at her father, she demanded, "Tell Jackie I'm not a baby!"

"You were sitting there yesterday." Amy muttered at her brother, eyes fixed on her plate. "Does that make you a baby?"

"Enough." Lestrade's voice, while low, still carried authority. All three children fell silent. "I would appreciate it if you would not upset our guests."

Jackie looked at Bradstreet, his brows furrowed in confusion, then at Sophie. "Oh, I get it. You don't want us to wake her." He pointed rudely at Bradstreet's chest.

"Don't point, Jackie," Mrs. Lestrade told him wearily. "It isn't polite." Jackie scowled.

"Maybe I don't want to be polite," he complained, glaring at his plate. "Sherlock Holmes isn't polite."

"Mr. Holmes is polite when the situation calls for it." Lestrade corrected. "Just because he's rude to me doesn't mean he doesn't mind his manners around guests."

"You aren't polite." Jackie argued. Bradstreet nearly choked; Lestrade's wife had to look away from the table to hide her smile.

"I am when I need to be," Lestrade said. "Manners are important. All your life, people will judge you by how you dress, how you look, how you talk. How much money you have. How educated you are. Who your family were." He regarded his son solemnly. "A lot of that, you have very little control over, if any. But people will overlook a lot of other flaws if you're polite and well spoken. You'll get farther in life, and farther with people, if you know how to talk to them."

Jackie was still scowling, but he looked more thoughtful than anything else.

"Sorry," he said, looking up at Bradstreet briefly.

"It's quite all right," Bradstreet told him. He wondered if Lestrade would ever cease to surprise him. It seemed every time he thought he knew the man, some new bit of information came to light.

The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully. Lestrade corralled his children into cleaning up, and Bradstreet, out of habit, found himself in the kitchen watching Mrs. Lestrade work.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this," he said. The woman simply waved him off.

"You will let us know if you need anything, of course," she said. It was not a suggestion.

"Mrs. Bradstreet will be staying with her father for a few days." Lestrade had come up behind Bradstreet without him realizing it, but the days were long past when Lestrade popping up seemingly out of nowhere could startle him-much.

The man's wife considered the statement, and likely got far more out of it than Bradstreet himself did, judging by the look she exchanged with her husband before turning her attention back to Bradstreet. "If you haven't already made plans, you're more than welcome to join us for dinner in the evenings," she said in a tone of voice that told Bradstreet that she expected him to do exactly that. Her gaze drifted to the still-sleeping child cradled against his chest.

"I don't know what other arrangements you and your wife have made," she added gently, "but I could watch Sophie here while you're at work."

"I couldn't ask that." Bradstreet fumbled; he was rarely caught so off guard. "You've already got three of your own to deal with."

Mrs. Lestrade laughed. "What's one more?" she asked, grinning. Sobering, she continued. "I'd be more than happy to do it."

Bradstreet considered accepting the offer. "She doesn't do well with strangers," he admitted reluctantly. "She spent this afternoon crying on your husband while he watched her so Melissa could go to St. Bart's." The woman did not look particularly worried. Bradstreet continued. "She doesn't really talk, either. Or run or play. The doctor thinks-" he cut himself off. Never mind what the doctor thought. He certainly did not need to trouble the Lestrades with the man's opnions on his and Melissa's only child.

He looked down at his daughter and fought back feelings of helplessness as he realized his predicament. He could not stay home with Sophie, but he was not sure he could leave her with anyone else, either.

He looked back at the woman standing before him. Their eyes met, and in hers he saw understanding, but not pity. The Lestrade family had dealt with their own share of difficulty over the years.

"We could give it a trial run, see how it goes." Mrs. Lestrade suggested. "If it doesn't work out, at least we'll know.

Bradstreet really did not have any other options. "Thank you," he said. "I'll drop her off on my way to work in the morning."

"You might as well stop by early enough for breakfast." The woman pointed out. "That should give her more time to get settled before you have to leave, and then you and Giles can head out together."

Bradstreet wondered idly how long it would take Lestrade to get tired of having him around for every meal, but decided not to worry about it. He was fairly good at handling the man even at his most prickly.

He was worried about leaving Sophie here. Not because he did not trust Mrs. Lestrade, but because he worried that his daughter would be too much for even her to deal with, and that she-or her husband-would come to regret the offer.

He was quiet as Lestrade walked him to the door. To his surprise, the man stepped outside onto the porch with him and closed the front door behind him.

"Our second child cried almost non-stop after she was born." Lestrade said, almost abruptly, his expression nearly unreadable. It was the mask he usually wore with strangers, the upper class, and the general public, offering no indication of how he truly felt. It startled Bradstreet to see him wear it now.

The words themselves were rushed and unsteady, as if Lestrade were trying to get them out before he changed his mind and left them unsaid. His voice was tight with some barely restrained emotion.

He refused to meet Bradstreet's eyes, focusing instead on some point down the street. "There were a lot of doctor's visits. He could never say exactly what was wrong. A lot of well-meaning advice from neighbors, relatives, though they knew less than the doctor did."

Not entirely certain what the man was trying to say, Bradstreet waited, but Lestrade did not continue for a long while. Perhaps he did not know either.

Finally he sighed. Turning, he met Bradstreet's gaze, his dark eyes glimmering oddly. "You don't have to worry about leaving Sophie here. Lizzie won't lose patience with her. She won't try to tell you how to fix her, or what you're doing wrong, or anything like that. The children won't bother her either."

"We'll at least give it a try." Bradstreet conceded. He did not feel relieved. Too much had happened over the course of the day, and he was not even remotely prepared to begin sorting through it. "Thank you." He felt as if he had said that more today than he had in the past year. It made him feel tired.

He already missed Melissa, though he did not resent her for going to her father. He certainly did not resent her for leaving their daughter with him. If anything, he supposed it meant something that she trusted him to make arrangements for Sophie in her absence.

Speaking of, it was time to get home. If he got her settled in bed before she woke up again, it was likely she would sleep through the night.

They could deal with tomorrow when it happened.


Author's note: Happy new year to everyone! I hope your holidays were full of happiness and love. Also, Lestrade is being published! Did some massive editing and revision, and then more editing and more rewriting, but it's done, and it's happening. The release date is set at April 15th of this year, and I am super excited. I'm putting the link to the website where you can purchase it in my profile.