A wee bit of filler here, just to get things rolling with more than just Holmes and Co. (Still having trouble getting this site to recognise my page breaks so keep imagining!)

And a quick note about knickers for query, there are two pairs, one (orange) in her suitcase and therefore lost somewhere in Barcelona, and one (purple) which she bought in Paris and still has. Just to make sure everyone is up to date on the knicker issue:P

Chapter Fourteen: Taking French Leave

"Absolutely not. It’s out of the question Lestrade. You’ve just been on a bloody holiday, swanning around France!”

“Technically, that wasn’t a holiday because it was a regulated Yard conference. It was mandatory.”Lestrade quoted Watson glibly. “You guys owe me vac. time like there’s no tomorrow! I haven’t had a holiday since... since... I don’t think I’ve ever had a holiday, actually.” Lestrade frowned, trying to think back.

“No matter! You have all that paperwork to do, and then there’s this assassination thing to sort out. That is terrible PR, by the way. I’ve got hose Our Island hooligans on the phone every ten minutes, spouting nonsense. I’m thinking of assigning Doherty to it.”

“To it? To the fact that someone is trying to kill us? I’d like to sort that out myself, thanks.”

“’Fraid that’s not allowed, personal connections and all that. You know how it is.”

Lestrade smiled suddenly. “Good point, Chief.”

“Good... pardon me Lestrade, did you just agree with me?”

“Mm hmm. You’re right, I shouldn’t be investigating my own assassination. Clearly the stress would be too much. In fact, the stress of being at work while in constant danger of my life is starting to get to me I think. I should probably take some time off. Paid sanity-leave, something like that.”

“Paid...? Oh alright. Take your vacation time! Goodness knows I can’t see why you all of a sudden want a holiday. As long as that moth-bitten PI of yours keeps coming to work...” Huffily, Greyson signed the leave papers.

“Mm, actually, I think Holmes and Watson are heading out of town as well. Oops! Sorry Chief.” And Lestrade scrammed before he could do more than splutter.

---

Deidre sat at the library computer, biting her nails. What if Mr. Holmes figured it out? What if they didn’t fall for it? What on earth had she been thinking sending the Inspector that letter?!

“Awww zed.” She groaned miserably. Why was she so impulsive?!

But it was just all getting to be too much, she’d had to do something! No one ever talked about it, but what if they really did get killed?

---

SC Morrison wandered along the sidewalk, past the old Deville place again. She really should go introduce herself...

An old woman with a shockingly disfigured face was coming out the door. She decided this was her chance.

“Hello!” Morrison called out, crossing the street to greet the other woman.

“Eh, quoi? What do you want?” The old woman spoke with a heavy French accent, peering at Morrison suspiciously from under the brim of a rather large, and very ugly, floppy green hat.

“Uh... I was just coming over to introduce myself. I’m SC Akiko Morrison. I work in this neighbourhood, just in case you ever have any problems...”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. How silly of me!” She twittered shrilly. “But I... ah... must be going! Goodbye!” The woman turned abruptly and scuttled back into the house, her dress catching at her ankles and making her curse. “Ah, zut alors, ces folles joupes!”

What a strange woman, thought Akiko.

---

French: Darn, these ridiculous skirts!