Disclaimer: I am in no way profiting from this so don't sue me. The characters and all are not my own and so on, etc., etc. They are DiC's and not of my own origin but the plot is. Thus, the story begins.....

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Holmes leaned against the wall next to his door and counted silently. "Three... two.....one...."

Suddenly the door burst open and in dashed a young female inspector, frantically searching for something in the apartment. A grin splayed across Holmes’ face as he cheerfully watched the inspector in her moment of panic.

"Holmes! Help me find my keys! I know I left them in here somewhere...."

Her voice trailed off as she began to search the various corners of the flat, looking for the vital keys to her hovercraft.

Smugly grinning, the detective merely walked nonchalantly beside her and then stopped, his hand on his chin.

"What?" she shot at him over her shoulder, continuing to the couch where she began to remove various cushions, discarding them wherever they fell.

"My dear Lestrade. Think hard about this. Where were they last?" he questioned, prodding thought from her already provoked ego while ignoring the cushions flying everywhere around him.

Rushing about and moving towards the mantel, she began to take apart the various objects there in her frantic search. "Holmes. Just. Help. Me. Find them...."

Holmes’ wax head began to roll off the mantel and as Lestrade turned away to continue her quest elsewhere, it began to fall. Jumping forward just in time, Holmes caught his wax replica and set it gently back on the mantelpiece.

His smug grin was now replaced with a look of worry and dread. "Lestrade," he said, trying to sound commanding but ultimately the worry won out in his voice. "There will be no dismantling of my flat. I want you to put everything back...."

By this time, ignoring Holmes’ completely, Lestrade had moved back to the couch and was now checking the floor underneath it. "Holmes, where are they? I just know I had them when I came in earlier...."

Abandoning the couch a second time, she moved towards the desk and began to bring all of his papers and objects out, still looking for the lost treasure.

Tensing again, Holmes rushed forward to save his papers and grabbed Lestrade by the arm before she could hasten over to another prime location. "Lestrade. Follow me."

Crossing her arms, she followed him out the door and stomped the entire way to her car. As Holmes stopped next to her door she just stood and glared at him, furious for this speedbump in her quest. Holmes motioned to the car and she took one quick look into the window and gasped.

Her cheeks turned red with embarrassment as Holmes chuckled softly beside her hovercar. Before she could voice her next question, Holmes pulled his own keys out of his pocket and swiftly opened the door for her, reaching down momentarily to pick up a book from her backseat. "Aren’t you glad you made that spare?"

Not knowing whether to be happy at her newfound access or mad with Holmes for knowing all along where her keys had been, she pursed her lips, flung her coat in the seat behind her and sat down. "Thank you, Holmes," she replied curtly.

Grinning smugly, he returned, "Whenever you need me, just ask. Oh, and thanks for the book. Finally, some words that don’t glow."

She seethed momentarily before smiling again. "Just you wait, Holmes. Just you wait."

And with that she buckled up and waved goodbye, heading off into the fog of New London.

Sighing, thankful for his newfound freedom from the ‘American disaster,’ Holmes watched her fly down the street and disappear into the fog. With a few deep breaths, a smile was brought to his face at remembering her panic and recalling the cushions from his couch flying everywhere around him.

Holmes turned and bounded up the stairs to 221b and with a triumphantly smug grin reached for the door.

*click click*

The cruel irony of the situation grasped him as realization overtook his features. Slowly allowing his hand to drop, the lone detective turned back to the city and pondered his situation. ‘I must have dropped them in the hovercraft after getting that door open.....’ A sudden flashback revealed a particular moment that had just occurred. Lestrade was flinging her jacket into one of the passenger’s seats. Right on top of his keys. ‘Darn.’

‘Watson is at the Yard, an invariably long distance away. My credit card is inside.’

‘Where I wish I was,’ he added as a second thought.

‘He won’t return until tomorrow morning and it would surely take me till tomorrow morning to walk there......’

His shoulders dropped as a grimace covered his face, ‘I suppose it’s to Lestrade’s flat and have her gleefully mock me as I retrieve my keys.’ He sighed darkly at the humiliating prospect.

Then crossing his eyes he began to think sternly, ‘I’m making a spare as soon as Watson gets back.... Oh well. If I hurry now, perhaps I’ll make it in time to deter any food pellets that might end up as dinner.’

‘If Beth will have me.....’

And with that he walked down the street in the direction the hovercraft had flown.