As he had anticipated, the desk sergeant have him only a cursory glance but the seemingly weeping woman was drawing all the attention as the daily duty roster was consulted and the in house phone was picked up.
"DI Dimmock is on duty. I'll buzz you through and Officer Dixon will escort you up. Name?"
"Sigerson."
The sergeant looked up then focused on the woman again.
"She's my sister, Hildegard Sigerson."
He bit back a sharp hiss as a well manicured finger poked itself deep between the third and forth ribs. He dropped a cheek into her hair and crooned softly into her ear.
"Stop. IT!"
"Hildegard?" She sobbed.
"Not now. Behave."
She sighed and the offending finger retreated. The sergeant held out two passes which were accepted then the couple pivoted gracefully together as the security lock buzzed and the door was opened for them. A young uniformed woman met them on the other side.
"I'm Officer Dixon. If you will just follow me. We'll get you sorted, never fear."
They were led to the lifts and the officer punched the up button while she eyed her charges. She found it difficult to get the measure of the male. His full height was reduced by the way his body curled protectively over the female his face half hidden because of the way he kept his head bent to rest one cheek on the top of her head. Her attention then shifted to the woman. Well dressed, medium height, build slender but the way she almost melded into her male companion she too was hard to read. Once on the lift, Officer Dixon punched the correct floor and the rest of the ride was made in silence.
When they stepped off the lift, they were greeted by a suited man who held out his hand only to find it ignored and, with a bit of embarrassment, dropped it slowly to his side.
"Yes, well...I am Detective Inspector Dimmock. Just follow me and we will see you taken care of, shall we?"
He turned smartly and escorted them through the duty room to his own office, handed them in then moved to sit behind his desk. He reached into a desk drawer and started to pull out a sheaf of papers.
"Is Gregory Lestrade on duty today?"
DI Dimmock's eyes snapped up.
"I can find out, of course."
"I need to speak with him, personally."
DI Dimmock's brow furrowed but he reached for the phone.
"Let me check for you."
He spoke for a few moments then hung up.
He is in the building. Would here be suitable?"
Sigerson seemed to study the glass walls, then gave a slight shake of his head.
"Might we have more privacy?"
A faint warning bell went off in DI Dimmock's mind and he hesitated.
"I only wish to speak with him on some aspects of my sister's case. I am familiar with his reputation here and I would like him to confer but...not within her hearing...if you understand me?"
"I must say, it is slightly irregular, of course, but if he agrees, then I am sure it can be arranged."
Sigerson nodded and opened his mouth as if to say more but was interrupted by a knock on the door which Dimmock answered with a vocal summons. The door was opened by a silver haired man.
"Inspector Lestrade, this man would like to speak to you in private, if that is alright with you?"
He waved a hand at the couple standing in front of his desk.
"What's this all about then?" Lestrade glanced at the younger man and his companion.
"I have been told that I could trust you...please."
Something about the timbre of that voice brought Lestrade's thought's to a stuttering halt. Some faint yet so very familiar. Something he believed he would never hear again. He gave a nod to Dimmock then took a step backwards towards the door.
"If you would follow me then."
The younger man seemed to take a moment or two to reassure his sister then stepped out to join Lestrade keeping his head turned as if taking note of his surroundings. The conference room was just a few doors down from the DI's office so the journey was a short if silent one. Lestrade opened the door and the young man slipped by him to look out the window at the far end of the room.
Lestrade studied that man's figure feeling the tension starting to radiate into the room. Then came a deep breath and the man at the window straightened and half turned.
"Good morning, Lestrade."
He didn't even remember moving but suddenly he had the younger man up against the wall. Gripping the collar of his shirt and shaking him.
"DAMN YOU! What the HELL Is This all ABOUT! HE's DEAD!"
"If you wish to punch me, I promise, I won't press charges."
Lestrade stopped and studied the face only inches from his own then threw himself away feeling a deep disgust taking deep breaths to try to calm gather himself only to round on the man again.
"IS this some kind of SICK JOKE! Something drummed up between you and Moriarty, part of that BLOODY AWEFUL GAME because so help me, if it is, I WILL see YOU in the DOCK'S!"
"It stopped being a game long before the five pip bombings ever ended. Everyone is of the mind that if I had simply stepped away Moriarty would have given up. If I refused to play so wouldn't he. He set the elderly blind woman, Lestrade. He spoke to her, personally. He got his hands dirty...and why? Because he wanted me to know that he was more then willing to kill...John asked me afterward if I cared about those people. I countered by asking if caring about them would keep them safe. He begrudgingly admitted it would not I then answered that I would then continue not to make that mistake. On the roof that day, Moriarty turned it around. My Not Caring would cost the lives of three people close to me."
Lestrade dropped heavily into a chair and scrubbed his face with his hands.
"Bloody HELL...it is you. No one could know even half of that. But WHY DEAD! Why couldn't you have come to us...me!...John!
Sherlock's head dropped to be craddled by his folded hands.
"Because I Didn't. Have. The. Time!. I knew that Moriarty was planning to make me try and commit suicide. A fall. Like flying but with a more permanent destination So he seized on the idea that I cared enough about my reputation that ruining it would be enough to make me want to end my life. Which wouldn't have worked..."
"Then what did, Sherlock? What made you step off that damned rooftop and why in Hell did you make John watch!"
Sherlock half turned away only to spin back again.
"John Wasn't. Supposed. To have BEEN THERE! I sent him away once. Back to Baker Street. I thought he would be safe there. But there is something...always...something! And I missed it completely. Moriarty's true end game."
Lestrade looked at him hard.
"If I didn't step off that roof, three people would die. The gun men where already in place. It didn't matter where John was...his sniper was already on him."
"And the other two? Who...Molly...and Mycroft?"
Sherlock gave a sniff of derision.
"I did say people close to me. It seems that my cavalier treatment of Molly saved her from Moriarty's attention...Mycroft is hardly close. John, Mrs. Hudson...and..."
The younger man fell silent and Lestrade felt those laser like eyes on him.
"Me?"
The full lips pursed as Sherlock took a deep breath then exhaled slowly standing straight then simply nodded.
Lestrade closed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh ruffling his hair.
"But you jumped and apparently was well prepared for it...why is Moriarty dead?"
"I told him I didn't have to jump. As long as he was alive I could use him as leverage to call his shooters off. So he took that option away from me by committing suicide. I had my landing prepared but then John arrived. Knowing that he was being tailed and targeted, I had no recourse. The sniper had to see me fall. Unfortunately...so didn't John."
"Is it done, Sherlock? Is that why you've come back?"
"No. There is one of Moriarty's men left. And he must be taken...I am hoping tonight. If you are willing, be at Camden House on Baker Street tonight no later then 9:30."
Lestrade slowly stood and approached the tall brunet then reached up to pull his head down so that their forehead's touched.
"I'll be there..with the best of the Yarder's I can muster. God, Sherlock...what a bloody awful mess. Does John know your back yet?"
"It's to dangerous yet, Lestrade not until after tonight."
Lestrade released him and stood back.
"You do plan to see him."
"If he will have it."
Sherlock gave a rueful smile.
"You think he will forgive me?"
"You have to give it a go sunshine. London is not all that big of a city."
Sherlock stepped away and towards the door.
"I still have plans to prepare at Baker Street."
"Right. I'll be there at 9:30...oh...and Sherlock?"
The tall younger man paused and glanced back.
"It's Christmas."
Sherlock gave a half smile then was gone.