Epilogue.
Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade rubbed his red-rimmed eyes and sighed deeply. What a hell of a day. There had been a suicide, a murder by a kid and a kidnapping, and now he had to do the paperwork for today. Oh, and the paperwork of yesterday, because today had been awfully busy. Donovan he had sent home already, she wouldn't be of much use. The DI closed his eyes and felt himself sinking in sleep, but he jerked himself out of it. His stomach thought it about time to protest against its emptiness, and with another sigh did the DI pick up the phone and ordered Chinese. He felt like Chinese.
Somewhere else in London, in an expensive house, Mycroft Holmes sat alone by the fire, glass of whiskey in his hand. He rather knew he was hungry and alone instead of feeling like that. Mycroft Holmes had always been a loner, and not that he really cared. Sherlock claimed to be married to his work, and Mycroft thought that had to be a family curse, because he was too. And he hated it. He hated arranged marriages like this. If only one could divorce. He rang the little bell near his hand.
"Anthea, would you please order some Chinese for you and me, if you like of course."
"Of course sir," the dark-haired woman answered. She knew what was coming. Mr. Holmes would eat his diner in silence, deep sunken in thought, drink a lot and fall to sleep to be troubled by nightmares and such. It was going to be a long night.
In the Chinese restaurant the two orders arrived at the same time. Cook Chan took them on, read the names and smiled.
"Two star-crossed dinners, please!" he yelled in his high-pitched voice. He assembled the dinners in the paper bags and grinned devilishly when he took two fortune cookies out of his jacket-pocket, dropping one in each paper bag.
The delivery boys set out and arrived at the police station and the expensive house at the same time. They handed over the bags, took the money and returned to the restaurant after saying: "the White Lilly says: enjoy your meals."
Lestrade gladly opened the bag; he was starving! He opened the fortune cookie and frowned when he read the message. Stupid cookies.
Mycroft opened the bag in a similar manner. Anthea would be with him soon, but he knew she didn't like the Fortune Cookies, so she probably wouldn't mind if he tried one. He glanced over the little paper and tossed it aside; the food was more appealing.
Both papers read the same message; carrying a meaning the two men would only understand over time.
"Time to see world in different light. Accepting changes life gives you will make you better person."
THE END.