A Dish Best Served Cold

Summery: Moriarty is out rule the world once again and he's had it with Sherlock Holmes's interference. He has a plan, but the detective's friends may pay the ultimate price.

DisclaimerAll Publicly Recognizable Characters, Settings, Ideas, etc. are the Property of DiC Entertainment and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The Original Characters and Plot are the Property of the Author. The Author is in no way Associated with the Owners, Creators, or Producers of DiC Entertainment. No Copyright Infringement is intended.

Chapter 1 - Underwear and Violins

Baker Street, New London

It was 5:00 in the evening and Holmes was in the sitting room alone with Deidre; Wiggins and Tennyson were at the arcade and Watson was grocery shopping. Deidre was getting help on her history report about the Victorian Era. The teacher had said that each student could pick their own subject so long as it was relevant to the Victorian Era. She had chosen fashion and had been asking Holmes about men's and women's fashion for the past hour.

Deidre smiled, it was a rare moment; just her, Holmes, and no case in the little time capsule that was Baker Street. She took a moment to absorb it all as she yawn and stretched.

"Are you tired Deidre?" Holmes inquired.

With a smirk Deidre replied. "I'm not tired simpl'y suffering from a lack of ozigen."

Holmes looked at her dubiously but said nothing. Deidre decided to take advantage of the quiet moment to ask Holmes something she'd been wanting to for awhile.

"So Mr 'Olmes, gonna ask Inspector Lestrade on a date soon?" she said in a casual fashion.

Holmes raised his left eyebrow. "Why would I do that?'

"Because ya like her." Deidre stated it as a matter of fact.

"And what pray tell makes you think that?" asked the detective a slight chuckle in his voice

"Did you ever notice that people sometimes don't do things 'cause they don't want people to know they want to do them?"

Holmes just continued to look at Deidre, eyebrow raised.

"I mean," she continued, "sometimes a guy won't help a girl because he doesn't want anyone to know he likes her."

"True. But I help Lestrade with her cases all the time."

"You're a lot more subtle Mr 'Olmes," Deidre snorted as she rolled her eyes.

"Really? Would you be so kind as to elaborate on that?" Holmes questioned, giving Deidre another dubious look.

"Ya always refer to everyone as 'your dear'. Ya say stuff like 'my dear Watson' or 'my dear Deidre'. I hear ya refer to people like that all the time, but not once have I ever 'eard you say 'my dear Lestrade'."

Holmes' dubious look was quickly replaced by one of mild shock (his left eyebrow was raised) and Deidre was pleased to note that he was gaping (ever so slightly but it was there). However Holmes, being who he was, did not look this way for more then a second and the look of mild surprise was quickly replaced with a glare.

"If you are done prying into my personal life," Holmes was careful not to say 'love life', "perhaps we can get a little more work done."

It wasn't a question. Deidre smirked and replied, "Okay, so what can you tell me about women's underwear?"

Holmes put his face in his right hand and groaned.

00o00

Beth Lestrade was having a good day. One might say a great day, the best day she had had in years. Well maybe not years, a year, since Holmes had been brought back a year ago and that was the best day she had had in years, even better then when she was promoted to inspector despite her age and the property damage she caused when driving.

'The look on Holmes's face is going to be priceless,' she thought.

Lestrade had been of some help to a famous composer years ago and he had died at 100 years of age, a month ago. He had left her one of his prize possession—a piano owned by Beethoven. It was a real mess of a piano, the legs were gone and the cables were in disarray, apparently the piano had been mutilated in order to make it easier to feel the vibration of the music through the floor.

Anyway she didn't have the room for it, or any use, but she was able to find someone who did. It was someone she had known of for quite some time, a man named Rizzio who had Holmes's Stradivarius—a trade was easy enough to set up and as today was the one year anniversary of Holmes's rejuvenation, it was the perfect time to present Holmes with the violin.

Her mind drifted back to her meeting with Rizzio…

"This violin and the piano are worth a lot of money, especially to a collector like me. Your friend is lucky."

'I'll say' thought Lestrade as she walked away 'I could make so many improvements to my place with the money; new bathroom, bed, I could take the ultimate vacation. But none of that would be worth the look on Holmes' face. He had better gape.'

Lestrade drove over to Baker Street rather slowly as she wanted to savour the moment—and avoid any crashes that might harm her precious cargo. When she arrived she couldn't help herself from taking the famous seventeen steps two at a time. She was certain that Holmes, if he was home, would know it was her with good news before she knocked on the door. Indeed she didn't even have to knock. Holmes opened the door just as she was about to.

"Lestrade," greeted Holmes with a smile, "I presume you have good news?"

"I do Holmes," Lestrade had debated whether or not to have some kind of party but had in the end decided he probably wouldn't like it. Besides she preferred it to be privet and was happy to see that it was just her and Holmes. "Where's Watson?"

"He is in his room reading a book, why? Do you need him?"

"No just wondering, you know what today is don't you?"

"The anniversary of my rejuvenation," Holmes replied staring at the box that she held in her hands, "I see you have brought me a gift."

"Happy Birthday."

"It is not my birthday."

"Is now. New life, new birthday." She told him with a smug expression as she held out the violin. Lestrade had gone through the trouble of finding a rectangular box, in which to put the violin and its case, as she didn't want Holmes deducing what his gift was.

"Well I suppose it is appropriate," he said as he took the gift and sat down in his armchair.

Lestrade made sure she maintained a good view of his face as he did so.

Holmes slowly opened the box. His eyes flicked with disbelief as he opened it and saw the violin case, she could tell his mind had deduced what was inside but could scarce believe it. With a slightly trembling hand, as if afraid it would not be his prize possession, he gingerly opened the case.

Holmes stared in complete and total disbelief, both eyebrows were raised and he was gaping for the second time that day. But this time it wasn't an ever so slight a gape it was a full blown 'I-Can't-Believe-What-I'm-Seeing' gape.

Lestrade was busy memorizing the look on his face, pleased that she had managed to surprise him. Indeed by the look on her face one could say she was very pleased, her friends could tell you they had rarely seen her so happy.

"Its mine," he said faintly as he picked up his bow and violin, "Lestrade how did you….?"

"Not important," she waved dismissingly, "but if you don't mind I would like to hear you play." With that she sat down in Watson's usual chair and looked at Holmes, waiting.

Wondering how Lestrade had managed to get his violin, whose value he knew to be over a million credits Holmes did something he though he would never do again. He played his violin.

Lestrade could not believe her hears or eyes, not only was Holmes playing a jolly song with a beat that made her want to get up and dance but he was almost a grinning. It didn't last long however but soon turned into a small but pleasant smile

'If he was anyone else,' Lestrade reflected, 'he'd be grinning right now. Still for a few seconds he almost was.' She wondered what it would take to get the Sherlock Holmes to grin. If having his Stradivarius returned to him didn't do the trick what would? 'Still, I did get a full blown gape. I'll never forget that image as long as I live.'

Watson attracted by the music entered the room and stood next to Lestrade as she was in his chair. They both just stood there (or sat in Lestrade's case). Afraid to move and break the spell Holmes had placed on them or the spell the Stradivarius had placed on Holmes. Unfortunately staying still did them little good for the tell ring of the vidphone broke the enchantment.

Lestrade and Watson glared at the thing. How dare it interrupt this precious moment. Holmes, stone face as ever, carefully laid down his violin and went to the vidphone to answer.

Chief Inspector Greyson appeared on the screen and glared at Holmes from the other end. "Holmes? Where's Lestrade?"

Holmes noted that Greyson sounded slightly angrier then usual but that wasn't a surprise. Holmes had never known the man to be in a pleasant mood. He gestured to Lestrade, who had risen and stepped forward into full view.

Greyson continued: "There's been a breaking at Sir Hardgrave's lab get over there a.s.a-mmediatly."

"On it sir," replied Lestrade before Grayson clicked off. Lestrade turned to Holmes "Sir Hardgrave… Holmes, the last one to successfully break in there was—"

"Moriarty." Holmes cut her off as he grabbed his Inverness, deerstalker, and cane then turned to Watson and asked with a smile. "Coming?"

The compudroid's answer soon wiped Holmes smile from his face.

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Okay well that's that for this week the next update will occur on the 23 of September 2007 before 12:00 CST