Chapter 15

Lestrade fell back in his chair, his mouth hanging open. Sherlock smirked a little. There was silence for a while before John spoke. "Greg, are you alright?"

"Of course I'm not bloody alright! Either I'm hallucinating or I've fallen asleep and this is a nightmare."

"No nightmares, no hallucination," Sherlock said, stepping forward. "I'm real. I'm alive."

Lestrade was stunned silent for a few moments before pointing at Sherlock and turning to John. "Have you punched him?"

John let out a short laugh. "Yes, I have."

"Good," Greg said, lowering his hand. "Because if you hadn't I was going too."

"Well, it's not necessary," John said with a smirk as Sherlock instinctively raised his hand to his face, gently scratching the skin where John had punched him.

"I know you have a lot of questions, Inspector, but before that I have one for you," Erika said, reinstating her presence and seating herself across from Lestrade. "How in need are you of a consultant detective?"

"Desperately," Lestrade said with a sigh, ashamed he needed an amateur to help him do his job. Erika smiled and stood, clearly getting ready to take a case when Lestrade spoke again. "But I can't give you a case."

At this Erika froze and spun around. Cocking her head to the side slightly, she said pointedly one word. "What?"

"I can't give you a case, Sherlock," Lestrade said, standing up and walking around the desk so he was in front of the trio. He looked Sherlock in the eye and spoke directly. "Around here, your name is still smeared and we can't consult with a criminal."

"He's not a criminal. You know that!" John said in his friends defence. Lestrade looked at them apologetically.

"Look, I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do. You may have been gone a year but your name is still Mud. I can't get you a case."

Sherlock and John were both about to say something but Erika silenced them with a wave of her hand. She walked over to the detective and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Can we talk outside?"

Lestrade nodded and led her out of the room. Erika turned back and winked at the pair before closing the door behind her. John and Sherlock looked at each other for a second before smiles broke out across their faces and they let out a small giggle. Sherlock sat down in Lestrade's chair and John sat across from him.

"Erika's going to give him hell."

"If she's feeling kind," Sherlock answered with a smirk plastered across his face. The pair laughed for a little while, making small conversation. About a quarter-hour after they left, the door swung open, revealing a woman with her head buried in papers.

"Sir, I need you to-" Sergeant Donovan stopped in her tracks when she looked up and saw Sherlock and John. They both smiled slightly and she stepped back a few steps before turning to John.

"This is sick. You've gone and found yourself a look alike to keep you company?"

Sherlock scoffed slightly and John shot him a glare. "I'm not a look alike, Sally."

She took another step back when she heard his voice before gaining her courage and walking up to him, poking him in the chest. "You were dead. I went to your funeral."

"You went to someone's funeral," he said with a smile. "Not surprised you got the wrong one."

She managed a demeaning smile before the door opened again, all heads turning to it, and Anderson stepped into the room.

"What the hell's taking so long? How hard can it be to sign some-" He stopped in his tracks and looked at the group in there. On meeting Sherlock's eye he quickly looked away, turning instead to Donovan. "Is he real."

"Sadly, yes," she said, turning back to Sherlock. "Turns out freaks don't die when they do a superman of a building."

John shuddered lightly at the memory before regaining his composure, hoping no-one noticed. However, he felt Sherlock's eyes on him and he nodded, answering the unspoken question; are you alright? On getting an answer, Sherlock turned back to the two other occupants of the room.

"If you wouldn't mind leaving. I have an appointment with Inspector Lestrade."

"What?" Sally said with a laugh. "You can't come back here. You created all the cases you solved to look clever. I'll kill you before you create another one. You're a fraud."

And with that she stood and left, Anderson following behind. Sherlock stared after them, his eyes cold and calculating, however John knew he was hurt, if only a little. A few more minutes passed before the door opened again and Lestrade and Erika walked in. Erika smiled at them.

"I hear you had some visitors?"

"Indeed we did," John grumbled. Erika's smile fell slightly. Sherlock hadn't yet looked up but now he did and saw the file in her hands.

"You've got a case?"

"Sort of," Lestrade said, shifting from one foot to the other. "I can't give you any new cases but this one's cold."

"We thought if you could prove that you possess the skills you do on a case you couldn't have been involved in, it might get you back in with the force," Erika finished.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "They could still accuse me of it."

"You have an airtight alibi," Lestrade said.

"There's no such thing."

"There is now," Erika said, sitting down on the desk. "There is no way that you could have been involved in this case in anyway."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, his suspicion growing. "How old is the case?"

"Um, it's been cold a long time so-" Lestrade started but Sherlock cut him off again.

"How old is this case?"

"Eight years, four months," Erika said quickly. Sherlock's stare became harsh and she lowered her eyes and Lestrade looked away.

"No."

"Sherlock," Erika pleaded. "It's the only case you have an absolute alibi for."

"Find an older case 30 years cold or something."

"We can't! The older they are the more likely they are to be corrupt. Plus many have already been solved. You need something fresh."

"I'm not taking it," Sherlock said, standing up and grabbing his coat. He started to leave when Erika spoke with a dangerous amount of authority in her voice. "Sherlock Holmes, you will take this case."

Sherlock turned and walked back so that he and Erika were nose to nose. "Or what?"

"Or Inspector Lestrade arrests you."

Sherlock smiled slightly. "For what?"

"For drug possession," Lestrade said stepping forward. Sherlock turned around and faced Lestrade, angry.

"I'm clean. You know I'm clean."

"Then why is there 12 ounces of heroin in your pocket?"

"What, I don't have-" Sherlock started, feeling his pocket before noticing the lump in it. Slowly he reached in and pulled out a small bag filled with white powder. He turned and looked at Erika, shocked. She smiled sadly.

"I can get a ring off your finger without you noticing. You think I can't put a bag in your pocket?"

"You said you were clean."

"I am," she answered slowly. "But the overworked drug cop napping downstairs isn't."

Sherlock looked from her to Lestrade, confused before looking down at the bag in his hands. "You tricked me."

"I'm helping you," Erika said with a slight smile. She came forward and took his hand, subtly taking the bag away. "Will you take the case?"

Sherlock was still for a moment before he nodded. As soon as he did this, Lestrade pulled an audio recorder from his pocket and pressed 'record'.

"For evidence, Sherlock, where were you on the night of the 12th of March, 2004?"

"I…" Sherlock started looking over at John. John returned the stare with confusion in his eyes. Sherlock let out a sigh before continuing. "I, Sherlock Holmes, on the night of the 12th of March, 2004, was in a drug rehabilitation centre in London."