Author's Note:

This particular vignette makes references to a personal-canon backstory, which I'll delve into more deeply in future fics. It's my personal explanation of how Lestrade is an inspector at such a young age (she can't be any older than her mid-twenties), but it's also kind of a crossover thing. Hey, what can I say—it's the twenty-second century!

To my reviewers:

Elerrina Star: Thank you very much! =) Well, I'll agree that Star Wars has the best music ever if Lord of the Rings is right alongside it. ;D I'm a huge fan of both, and of the music, as well. Glad you had fun!

bemj11: Aww, so glad I could help, and I hope you get better soon! Thank you!

Disclaimer: Beth Lestrade, Greyson, and compudroid!Watson aren't mine, and I don't really care about Miller. The backstory for this fic is mine.

==8. My Dear Watson==

Rating: K+

Summary: Five months before Lestrade first crosses paths with Moriarty, she receives an unwelcome Christmas present.

Pairing(s): none

Warnings: personal canon

Word Count: 416

December 22nd, 2102

Detective Inspector Elizabeth M. Lestrade was receiving a Christmas present. Unlike most Christmas presents, however, she knew what this one was. Knew, and chafed at the unfairness of it.

She had been reassigned from NSY at the request of the Foreign Office, a reassignment which kept her away from the Yard for three years. She'd left the Met at the age of twenty-one, still very much a girl; she'd returned at the age of twenty-four, the girl grown into a woman. And, at the recommendation of the Foreign Office, she was promoted directly from Constable to Detective Inspector, the only such promotion in history.

She was the youngest Yardie ever to make the grade.

And only Chief Inspector Greyson and Commissioner Miller even knew why. Thus, because of her unprecedented youth and three-year hiatus, Inspector Beth Lestrade was deemed in need of backup.

Robot backup.

Only unruly Yardies had compudroids—read: snitch machines—assigned to them. It was zedding unfair! She had gotten more field-experience in her three-year absence than most Yardies got in their first ten years! She'd even protested as much; Greyson retorted that if she was really that experienced, then she had nothing to worry about. Then he muttered something about arrogant upstarts, which really boiled her blood.

That self-complacent… zed-head… had no idea what she'd been through. What she'd seen, what she'd done. What she was capable of.

She entered her office, and there was her new "partner". "Hi there," she gritted out, still simmering from getting chewed out by the Chief.

"Greetings, Inspector B. Lestrade," the 'droid said in a flat computer voice. "I am a Model 7 Law Enforcement Compudroid, number 4260-A134. I am hereby registered to you."

"Uh-huh." Beth looked him up and down—as far as she could tell, average, boring compudroid issue. Hmm, she'd have to work on that, starting with… "Would you mind if I gave you a name? That's an awfully long numerical designation."

"If you wish."

"Okay, then. Umm, how about… Watson? Sound good to you?"

Beth had the feeling that, if the 'droid could have blinked, he would have. "If you wish it, Inspector."

She raised an eyebrow. "I do. And, hey, just call me Lestrade, okay?"

"Unclear: why do you wish me to call you by your surname?"

She sighed. She had a long way to go in installing her 'droid with a sense of personality, but, by golly, she was going to do it if it killed her.


Author's Note:

Awww, poor Lestrade! Well, at least we know her life will pick up in five months. ^_^ Btw, "Met": London Metropolitan Police, a.k.a. Scotland Yard. Oh, and not only is this story and the vaguely-hinted backstory meant to explain why she's a young D.I., it's also meant to explain why she has a compudroid (just a guess, but I kinda doubt they're standard-issue).

Next Friday, Holmes tries his hand once again at chronicling… but this is a different sort of chronicle… Stay tuned!

Please review!