Untitled Frenchfic

Chapter Three

by Alicia (aisumitsukai at home.com)

General Disclaimer

Nothing much happens here, but things'll pick up next chappie, or so I hope Enjoy!

Chapter Three: Watson Enjoys Being Not Quite So Moral and Honourable.

Holmes sat cross-legged on his king-sized bed, silently praising 22nd century technology. His matress was a beautiful thing. If only he didnít have to leave it for that bloody teamwork seminar. He was the worldís greatest detective, to allow himself a little arrogance, and he did not need teamwork seminars.

Sighing the sigh of abject self-pity, he stood up and fetched his coat.

Humming quietly to himself, he stepped out of his room, digging in his pockets for his ever-misplaced key card. If only they had normal keys these days: he could put them on a nice big brass ring and stick them to his mantel with a jack-knife, along with his mail. Then heíd never lose them!

With a quiet Ďaha!í he pulled out his card with a flourish, only to jump back into his room as a metal cleaning trolley came zooming around a corner, nearly running him over.

"Bleeding--" Holmes didnít bother finishing his sentence but hurriedly locked his door and ran up the corridor, even though he knew there would be no one around the corner. As usual, he was right, and the hallway was deserted. Frowning, he stepped into the elevator and went down to join Watson and Lestrade for breakfast.

He found them sitting in the same table as he had chosen last night, chatting amiably. Lestrade wearing suspiciously clean-looking clothes for someone who had no luggage.

"New clothes, Inspector?" Sitting down, Holmes nodded good morning to them.

"Yeah, I got up nice and early and hit all the really cheap secondhand stores on the other side of town. I figured Iíd start a new trend or something on this side of the city, where women donít wear shoes unless they look like they used to be an animal and have eight cm of heel on them." Lestrade grinned, proudly displaying rather unprofessional, green, pseudo-plastic sandals. "Mind you, even the secondhand stores here are more fashionable then the most expensive ones back home."

"Donít let Deidre hear you say that," Watson advised.

"Mmm. So, you guys looking forward to a fun-filled, educational day of building towers with office furniture?" Lestrade waggled her eyebrows.

"We wonít actually have to do that, will we?" Looking pained, Holmes waved a waiter over.

"Who knows." Watson responded. "But I wish you two luck with whatever it is you will be doing."

"Whaddya mean you wish us luck. Youíll be doing it too." Lestrade put in her order to the waiter, once again explaining that Watson wouldnít be eating.

"Oh." Watson put on an innocent face. "Didnít I tell you? As a Yard- programmed compudroid, I already have all the teamwork training I need." His innocent face dropped, replaced by a huge grin. "Iím only here because the President wanted to meet me as well. But donít worry, Iíll take lots of pictures wherever I go."

His companions gaped.

"And I always thought you were supposed to be an honourable, moral person, Watson. My childhood dreams are crushed." Lestrade stared at him.

"Yes, well, between the two of you Iíve had one too many ĎLook! Itís ridiculously foggy outside! But weíve no food! Watson, you must go out and buy some!í tricks played on me not to take advantage of this." He grinned again as Holmes and Lestrade had the decency to look vaguely ashamed.

"I canít believe someone didnít tell us this sooner!" Lestrade slouched in her chair. "How on Earth did we not know this....?"

"Ah, well. At least one of us will enjoy this trip," Holmes smiled wryly as the food arrived.

"Actually," Lestrade sat up straight again, and taking a bite of her scrambled eggs. "This works out great! Youíll have so much free time so you can go and buy Deidreís underwear for me. I doubt Iíll have the time... or the inclination... once things get into full swing."

Holmes choked on his crepe and Watson blinked.

Looking hopeful, Lestrade continued. "Please, Watson? Iíd really, really appreciate it."

"Absolutely not."

Lestrade snapped her fingers. "Well, it was worth a try."

Fear not! This is not some devious scheme of mine to get rid of Watson for the rest of the story. I plan on giving him a nice big role to compensate for all the times I *did* get rid of him. (I'm sorry Watson! I love you, I really do!)

On to Chapter 4!

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