AUTHORS NOTE: I claim no ownership of Sherlock or ACD's characters. I just love toying with them. Beta thanks to Artsychick. Girl, you just get me!

When you have been an officer long enough, you start to get this feeling about things. It's an unsightly mixture of experience, common sense, and sheer paranoia. The feeling sits in your gut, dense as a brick, and rears up like ulcer pain at the most inopportune moments. But the most maddening thing about it?

It is very often right.

When you have been an officer for as long as Lestrade, you learn to do one of two things: listen up or drown it in antacids. Lestrade has attempted the latter to no avail, so he has reluctantly accepted his fate and tries to pay attention. One such day, his attention was more diverted than usual—but he had a good reason.

His friend had just thrown himself off a roof.