Apparently, the day was going to get much, much worse, but how was Greg to know that? It was now 12:30 pm and time for his lunch break. Maybe he would head down the coffee shop that was a minute long walk from the station. That seemed like a good idea, it was a quiet place and usually occupied by the less obnoxious officers of London.

Greg grabbed his coat before locking his office up and leaving the police station. As he walked towards the coffee shop, he thought about what he wanted to have for lunch. "An extra strong coffee with sugar and cream…" He thought, and added to himself, "And a large sandwich with cheese and ham." Or maybe he would treat himself, "A Panini it is then." He flashed a smile at a fellow officer as he entered the coffee shop and sat down.

The waitress came over and asked him what he wanted, he ordered, and then picked up the paper from his table to read. All over the front page was something that Lestrade had not been expecting.

Self-Proclaimed 'Consulting Detective' a Fraud

The title of the article alone was enough to make him sick to his stomach; the man previously known as 'The Reichenbach Hero' who had the press singing his praise had been reduced to media fodder.

The well known 'consulting detective' Sherlock Holmes has been revealed to have been fraudulent. His supposed genius level IQ and quick deduction skills are un-true,

"Blah, blah, blah!" Lestrade said, louder than he had intended, in response to the fake, ridiculous claim that Sherlock Holmes was a fraud. Greg couldn't believe it as he skimmed the story; there was everything there from his childhood to his supposed creation of cases for fun. The article was hard to ignore, but Greg knew the consulting detective. He had seen him at work; he couldn't have faked everything. There was no possible way.

The day was getting worse still and as his coffee arrived at his table he groaned, for coming through the doors of the café were two of the people he least wanted to speak to. Donovan and Anderson had decided, for the first time ever, to eat at the café.

Swearing under his breath, Lestrade pretended not to have noticed his colleagues entering the store. He faked surprise when they sat down either side of him at the table. "How long have you been here, Lestrade?" Sally asked sweetly.

Greg checked his watch, 1:05 pm. "About half an hour," he replied shortly.

Donovan and Anderson… Donderson maybe? Greg thought spitefully before feeling ashamed to have even played with the idea of it and looking back at the two of them. They were ordering their meals.

When they were done Greg asked them, "Any news yet on Sherlock and John?"

"None, people aren't trying that hard to find them actually. I'm surprised; I'd have thought that they would search for fugitives a bit harder than they are." Sally replied.

"Oh?" Lestrade was secretly pleased; he didn't really want two of his friends to be shut up in jail for ridiculous reasons. He thought back to when he, Donovan and Anderson had gone to the Chief-Superintendent.

Why had he gone at all? He had known in his heart that Sherlock was innocent and that going to his boss was a very bad idea, and yet he had headed over anyways.

Shaking his head, Greg finished off his coffee and Panini. Maybe it was time to head back to the station. Donovan and Anderson hadn't even received their lunch yet, and there was no way that Lestrade was going to sit in-between the two of them for another half hour. No way.

"I should get back to work, I might be needed," he excused himself before heading back to his office.

Greg arrived at his office and sat in his chair before turning to the television where the news was broadcasting.

"There has been an apparent suicide at Bart's Hospital. A man has jumped off of the roof of the building and was confirmed dead just moments ago. No news yet as to the identity of the man but we will bring you more information as soon as we have it."

The reporter continued on, saying more about news in London. Then, Lestrade's phone rang. He picked it up only to hear a sobbing Molly on the other end.

He listened closely to what she had to say before collapsing back into his chair, his hand going loose as he listened.