September 2000
It became a tradition of them. Sherlock coming over, looking at the case files, correcting what was wrong.
Sometimes he came to Lestrade's office at the Yard.
Lestrade offered him money. But he never took them.
"I need to see the crime scene, Lestrade."Sherlock said."I wont solve this one otherwise"
They were sitting in the kitchen at Lestrade's flat. It was late in the evening, but Alice wasn't home. She was out with friends.
"You can't look at the crime scenes."Lestrade said signing."It is illegal. I have told you, I shouldn't even show you the files. Besides, you have already told me where me most likely will do it next time. I've sent people out. It wont be an other shooting."
"I know...but it is something I've missed."
None of them said anything for a long time.
Sherlock sat completely still, thinking. Lestrade knew better than to disturb him. When Sherlock went to his 'Mind palace' he could be rather sulky if he was disturbed.
About 11.30 pm Sherlock finally looked up.
"I better be going home"He said standing up."Or Mycroft will send the secret service to find me, again."
Lestrade followed him to the door.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.
"Yes, I might come to your office after school"
Almost an hour later, when he was asleep, someone knocked on the door.
'Who is visiting at this time at hour?' he thought as he went to open the door.
It was Sergeant Hopkins.
"I'm sorry to disturb you this late, sir." He said."But it has been an other one, sir. An other shooting."
"What? Where?"
"Trafalgar Square sir."
Not more than 10 minutes later, they sat in the car.
Sherlock had been right, even this time.
"How many victims?"
"Only four, sir." Sergeant Hopkins said."One died at the scene. Two of them where transported to hospital."
"And the forth? You said there were four victims?"
"Yes sir, it was. But he is refusing to go to hospital. He says he wants to meet you... We don't know who he is, sir. A boy, maybe 15, or 16 years old."
"Oh god..."
"You know who it is?"
"Yes, I think so. Dark hair, pale skin?" Hopkins nodded."...God...Yes I know him. It is Sherlock Holmes. I have known him for ten years."
They arrived at the scene at 12.50 am.
When Lestrade left the car, he immediately saw Sherlock.
He was sitting at the back of an ambulance. His upper right arm was in bandage, as were his left cheek. He had an orange blanket around his shoulders. He looked completely bored.
"It is no rush Lestrade" he said as the DI ran up to the ambulance." I'm alive, and I know who the murderer is. I saw him."
"I'm sure you did..." Lestrade said, looking closer at the wounds. "Hell Sherlock, I told you not to come. You could have been killed-"
"I wasn't" Sherlock broke him of, standing up and walking away from the scene."The bullet gazed my cheek and my arm, nothing more. Now please Lestrade, can you tell them to let me go home? I really hate hospitals."
A/N: I know this is a short chapter but I will update later this week. Please review.