General Disclaimer

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Lestrade examined the 'Bits and Parts' hardware store for any type of clues. Apparently, her criminal hadn't been as careful last night as he had been before. There were footprints in the sand, and he actually left a DNA trace. "Got ya!" Lestrade grinned as she headed towards the yard with her DNA sample. All she had to do was find out who this DNA belonged to, and she would have her criminal.

Lestrade walked into the Yard with her head held high. She was going to crack a case that even the world's greatest detective declared impossible. She put the DNA sample into the scanner and waited for the analysis. Holmes' picture appeared on the computer screen, along with his recently transmitted file.

Lestrade gasped. "Holmes?! It was Holmes' DNA?! But... but that can't be!!" She quickly examined the footprint. "It's the same size as Holmes' feet...." Lestrade gulped. She quickly got rid of the DNA sample and went back to the hardware store to erase any other traces of evidence leading to Holmes. No, he just couldn't be the criminal. His whole two lives were dedicated to fighting crime!

Lestrade flew to Holmes' flat, quite faster than she was supposed to. She walked up to the front door, not noticing the stained blood there from Holmes' arm. Not even bothering to knock, Lestrade forced Holmes' front door open and slammed it shut again once inside. Watson looked up from studying a cook book. "Why, Lestrade! What brings you here?"

"Where is Holmes?!" Lestrade demanded, her first time yelling at poor old Watson.

"Why, he's still in his room. Hasn't even come out for breakfast. He's still in recovery from last night."

"What happened last night?" Lestrade's hope grew. If Holmes was with Watson all night lastnight, then he couldn't have been the robber of the hard ware store.

"I have no idea. Holmes left here late without an explanation at all. Then he came back hours later with a bloody arm and a depressed air about him. He wouldn't tell me anything of what occured. You know how secretive he is."

Lestrade sighed and her hopes dropped to an even lower level than she started with. All was black against Holmes, and yet it didn't seem possible that he was the guilty party.

Lestrade pushed past Watson, and burst the door open with a sudden surge of energy. Holmes was lying in his bed, still dressed in yesterday's clothes, and was thinking deeply about something. His arm was wrapped in layers upon layers of bandages, making it very hard for him to move it. "Holmes!!! What is going on here??!!" Lestrade screamed at him. She shut the door behind her as she advanced into his room, leaving poor Watson out of the conversation.

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I'll leave off here and write the rest later. Hope you like it! I might actually finish this fic!