The Doctor's Daughter | Wholock {1}

Chapter 23: Distraction

"Sherlock, this is a terrible idea," Kimmy said as they stood in the lift at Scotland Yard.

"Relax," Sherlock replied. "This will work." Their plan was foolproof: Kimmy would get off the lift two floors below Lestrade's office and take the stairs to Lestrade's floor. While she was doing that, Sherlock would find Lestrade and distract him long enough for Kimmy to get into the inspector's office and find whatever Morairty left for them. Just to be sure nobody paid her much attention, they had stopped long enough to buy Kimmy a change of clothes. Instead of the jeans, Converse, and sweater that she'd been wearing, she now had on a dark blue pencil skirt and a matching blouse, along with a pair of heels-even with them, the top of her head didn't reach Sherlock's chin. She'd also taken her hair out of its messy ponytail and tied it into a bun on the back of her head. In her hand she held a manila folder, stuffed with blank papers to make it look full. If anyone happened to glance at her, they'd assume she was just another secretary. However, the detour had cost them time; Sherlock estimated that they had only twenty-four hours left.

"Give me five minutes before you come upstairs," Sherlock reminded her as the lift opened.

"You've said that five times," Kimmy said, rolling her eyes as she stepped off of the lift. "I might not be a genius, but I'm not a complete idiot." Sherlock couldn't help but smile as the lift doors closed again, cutting off his smart reply.

A few moments later, the lift stopped again. Sherlock stepped into the hallway, walking the familiar maze of cubicles to Lestrade's office. The door to the office was open, so Sherlock didn't bother knocking before he walked in. "I need a favor," he announced, making the detective jump.

"What?" Lestrade asked, taking his feet off of the top of his desk. And he calls himself a professional?

Sherlock pulled Moriarty's cipher out of his coat pocket-he had thought ahead and torn the top part of the note off, so none of their names were on it-and handed it to Lestrade. "I need you to have your people check this for fingerprints. It's for a case."

"Sherlock, I can't just-" Lestrade started to say.

"The Moriarty case," Sherlock cut him off. Kimmy would be coming any minute; he had to get Lestrade out of the office.

Lestrade stood up, an expression of disbelief on his face. "Jim Moriarty wrote this?"

"That's what I need your people to prove," Sherlock lied. He knew perfectly well that Moriarty wrote the cipher.

"Follow me," Lestrade said, picking up the note with the sleeve of his jacket.

Sherlock struggled not to smirk as he followed the inspector out of the office. Kimmy had been wrong to worry; everything was going perfectly.