Please keep your arms and legs inside until the fic comes to a complete stop. Thank you for reading with Lli Airways, we hope you had a pleasant journey and that you visit us here again!

Tada! Complete! The end of an era. Well. Sort of.

Sorry for any loose ends I've left without noticing, random spelling errors and anything else unsatisfactory about this story. Complaints will be forwarded to management and duly ignored.

Just one last bit of the old Deidre/Lestrade banter to wrap things up. I love these two.

And thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who had a kind thing to say. You guys really made my day at times.

xo Lli.


Chapter Twenty-Three: All's Well That End's Well

'Hey kid. Wanna ride today?'

Deidre nearly jumped out of her skin.

'Inspector! Don't scare me like that!'

Lestrade shrugged, her lopsided grin decidedly unapologetic. 'Do you or don't you?'

Deidre eyed the Yardie suspiciously. 'Yes?'

Laughing, Lestrade led her away from the bus stop, to her cruiser around the corner. 'Don't worry, I'm not gonna abduct you or chew you out or anything.'

Deidre snorted in blatant disbelief.

'Did you like being abroad?' Deidre asked once she'd settled into the front passenger seat.

Her driver mused a little. 'All in all, yeah, I guess. There were some definite upsides.'

'Oh yeah? Like what? The art museums? The food?'

Lestrade smirked to herself. 'Er, yeah, something like that.'

Deidre crossed her arms, huffing. 'Fine, don't tell me. See if I care.'

'Alright I won't.'

Minutes passed.

Deidre broke first. 'Ok, I give up: why the ride, Inspector? Trying to win brownie points with Mr. 'Olmes?'

Lestrade laughed. 'Don't need to give you rides for that. Nah, kid, I just wanted to say thanks. I know it was you. And, though, I mean, it really wasn't necessary to tell me you'd put ecstasy in my luggage, I appreciate the sentiment, yeah? By the way, how did you get a hold of my bag, anyway?'

Deidre looked at her lap. 'Er, I may have bought it off a bloke at Hungerford who may 'ave bought it off a bloke who may 'ave nicked it from the baggage train. Maybe.'

Lestrade rolled her eyes. 'Right. Well, moving past your blatant illegal activity for a moment, don't think that just 'cause you tried to save our lives means I'll be any more inclined to let you help out on cases. Those really are dangerous. And I don't want you guys dead any more than you want us to kick the bucket. Got it, kid?'

Deidre smirked. The Inspector may have guessed the half of it, but she still had no idea what they'd been up to in her absence. 'Sure, Inspector, no problemo. Just so long as you know we're still gonna help out all we can. Zed knows you yardies need it!'



Lestrade glared. 'Watch it kid, or I'll rip you up for stealing my luggage and then you'll have to give Wiggins his money back.'

Deidre gasped. 'How did you know?'

'Heard you two talking at Baker St.' Lestrade shrugged, bringing the hovercar to an uncharacteristically graceful stop. 'Though, speaking of knowing things, I gotta wonder who got rid of Salman, or whatever his name is. And tracked down Moriarty. Maybe your Morrison woman knew about Moriarty, she worked that patch, didn't you say?' Lestrade mused to herself.

'Oh, er, yeah. Maybe she did.' Deidre replied noncommittally, reaching for her bag. Opening the door, she paused half in and half out of the car. 'By the way, Inspector, I'm glad you and Mr. 'Olmes finally got it together. It was getting hard to breathe through all the sexual tension.'

Lestrade chucked a handy pen at her. 'Zed off, kid.'

Deidre dodged, laughing.

She gave the girl a rueful smile. 'See you at dinner, yeah, Deidre?'

'Uh huh.' Deidre smiled at the older woman through the window as she closed the door. The Inspector wasn't really so bad, when you got down to it. She chuckled to herself, pulling out her handheld. Scrolling through her inbox, she discovered a new email from Andraj.

Dear Deidre,

Mr LaMensange is settling in nicely. He looks terrible in orange, but I told him being aesthetically unattractive eases one's way down the eight fold path. And I believe our stark diet will do wonders for his waistline. In fact, I'm beginning to think that if we ever run low on funds and need to fix the roof, I may start some sort of ridiculous Buddhist instant Nirvana weight loss program. Wouldn't that be fun! It would be hard to keep a straight face with the clients though, I think...

Hope you are well, and that your three friends are home safe.

In peace, Andraj

Deidre grinned to herself, waving happily to Lestrade's hovercar as it zoomed by above her, heading for Baker St.

All in all, Deidre thought, strutting through the school yard, this was a job well done. Sure, there'd been a few hitches, but all's well that ends well, right?

Then she grimaced. Speaking of Shakespeare, her essay on A Midsummer Night's Dream was definitely not done and was definitely due yesterday.

She shrugged to herself. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.