
*temp mcWant ""

*comment *goto testing
*comment [b]The Lestrade you never knew.[/b]

This is not the Lestrade you know.
This is a small part of who they were and could have been—but far from their best, neither past nor present.
And as some wounds can't heal without scars, this is not someone they will ever become again.

*line_break

What if Lestrade had never spiralled? 

What if all they wished, but one thing, had so far come true in life? 

If they had faced no real obstacles and had the personality to match?

*page_break

[b]Character creator:[/b]

is Lestrade a woman or a man?
*fake_choice
	#woman
		*set lestradeMan false
		*set l_man "woman"
		*set l_male "female"
		*set lestradeName "Grace"
		*set lestradeFullname "Grace Lestrade"
		*set lestradeVoice "husky"

		*set l_he "she"
		*set l_his "hers"
		*set l_hi "her"
		*set l_him "her"
		*set l_himself "herself"
		*set l_s "s"
		*set l_es "es"
		
		*set l_mr "miss"
	#man

And you are—
*fake_choice		
	#You are a woman. (She/Her/Hers/Herself)
		*set mc_lady "lady"
		*set mc_miss "miss"
		*set mc_rude "girl"
		*set mc_term ", madam"

		*set genderMC "woman"
		*set mc_them false
		*set mc_xhe "she"
		*set mc_xir "her"
		*set mc_xirs "hers"
		*set mc_xim "her"
		*set mc_ximself "herself"
		*set mc_s "s"
		*set mc_es "es"
		*set mc_re "'s"
		*set mc_ve "'s"

		
	#You are a man. (He/Him/His/Himself)
		*set mc_miss "mr"
		*set mc_lady "lord"
		*set mc_rude "boy"
		*set mc_term ", sir"
		
		*set genderMC "man"
		*set mc_them false
		*set mc_xhe "he"
		*set mc_xir "his"
		*set mc_xirs "his"
		*set mc_xim "him"
		*set mc_ximself "himself"
		*set mc_s "s"
		*set mc_es "es"
		*set mc_re "'s"
		*set mc_ve "'s"


		
	#You are non-binary. (They/Them/Theirs/Themselves)
		*set mc_miss "mx"
		*set mc_lady "liege"
		*set mc_rude "kid"
		*set mc_term ", ser"
		
		*set genderMC "them"
		*set mc_them true
		*set mc_xhe "they"
		*set mc_xir "their"
		*set mc_xim "them"
		*set mc_ximself "themselves"
		*set mc_s ""
		*set mc_es ""
		*set mc_re "'re"
		*set mc_ve "'ve"


What's your eye color? (lowercase)
*input_text eyeColour

What's your first name?
*input_text mc_name


*label testing

You already wanted to leave.

The bar where the officers congregated after a [i]catch[/i], as they called it, was very well stocked. And you watched as Lestrade took full use, rain or shine, that ${l_man} could drink.

It would have been impressive if it also wasn't—

Lestrade's voice interrupts your thoughts and echoes over the establishment. 
*if (mc_xhe = "they")
	“Sherlock, where—“ a grin grows on ${l_hi} lips until it is all teeth. “[i]There ${mc_xhe} are[/i].” 
*else
	“Sherlock, where—“ a grin grows on ${l_hi} lips until it is all teeth. “[i]There ${mc_xhe} is[/i].” 

*if (lestradeMan)
	Hands pat his back, and his broad shoulders seem even more squared as he makes his way towards you through the crowd.
*else
	Hands pat her back, and her chin seems even more lifted as she makes her way towards you through the crowd.

You had agreed to come for one reason and one reason only.
*fake_choice
	#I was promised free booze.
		*set mcWant "booze"
		Lestrade had asked you to stick around. Then tempted you with something ${l_he} knew would get you to remain longer than necessary. 

		Enough drinks to drown out the lack of a good case. And you needed that.

		There was no denying it.

	#Further details on my next case.
		*set mcWant "case"
		Lestrade had asked you to stick around. Then tempted you with something ${l_he} knew would get you to remain longer than necessary. 

		The promise of information on a good case. And you needed that.

		There was no denying it.

	#$!{l_him}... ${l_he} was there. And, hence, so was I.
		*set mcWant "Lestrade"
		Lestrade had asked you to stick around. 

		You do not know if ${l_he} knows that simply [i]${l_him}[/i] asking is often enough for you to remain... To stay by ${l_hi} side.

		But there was no denying it.

The ${l_man} knew you enough to say the right thing. To get what ${l_he} wants. And ${l_he} was a ${l_man} accustomed to getting what ${l_he} wanted. Evidently not just from the perps and the criminals.

You knew ${l_him} too, of course. The months you had known the inspector must measure up to about a year by now... 

*page_break

And in that time, ${l_he} had done nothing but compete against you.

$!{l_he} took your competence as something to beat rather than to be discouraged by. And, so, ${l_he} was around a lot. 

Sometimes you had to work together. When the work demanded it. $!{l_him}, begrudgingly cooperating with a smile... Perhaps it was the fact that most around ${l_him} were ${l_hi} subordinates. Or that your wins made you a permanent fixation in ${l_hi} mind. But ${l_he} kept you around more, and more.

Sometimes you imagined that ${l_he} hid some affection behind all that teasing and bravado...

*page_break
		
The Lestrade you knew that was walking towards you was always neat. And fixed. Decently rigid, confident, reserved and appropriately assured. Unless, of course, ${l_he} had a drink and a win in ${l_hi} hands. Then, ${l_he} was beyond assured—bordering on arrogant.

This was one such moment.

The very such moment…

*comment More so than perhaps any other…

Had ${l_he} ever looked more smug than now?

Lestrade—sauntering over—and tall as ${l_he} was, had the bad habit of slouching. None such signs were there now. One could hide a fire poker under ${l_hi} black leather coat. 

And there was that smirk. And an amused, narrowed gaze. And a tone and walk overflowing with such self-confidence.

All of that, getting ever closer.

And you? Well, you were seated in a corner—

*fake_choice
	#Easier conversations to be held here.
		You weren't anti-social. But one could hardly speak in the middle of these particular crowds. It seemed it was for nothing more than beer breaths to touch and shoulders to mingle.
	#Quieter. Far quieter.
		You prefer a calmer corner to the middle of these crowds. It seemed that was for nothing more than beer breaths to touch and shoulders to mingle.
	#Hiding…
		You prefer to disappear in dark corners than to be in the middle of these crowds. It seemed that was for nothing more than beer breaths to touch and shoulders to mingle.
	#Dear lord, why did I agree to come here—
		Regret flowed and pulsed through your veins at a steady pace.

*if (mcWant = "booze")
	Lestrade arrives. And with some drink-induced warmed cheeks, ${l_he} shrugs off ${l_hi} coat, folds it in the middle, and disposes of it on the chair next to you. 
	*if (lestradeMan)
		$!{l_he} sinks into the seat right across from you, slams a large drink before you, and places ${l_hi} bare forearms on the rough surface of the table.
	*else
		She sinks into the seat right across from you, slams a large drink before you, and places her naked hands on the table's rough surface.
*else
	Lestrade arrives. And with some drink-induced warmed cheeks, ${l_he} shrugs off ${l_hi} coat, folds it in the middle, and disposes of it on the chair next to you. 
	*if (lestradeMan)
		He sinks into the seat right across from you, bare forearms placed on the rough surface of the table.
	*else
		She sinks into the seat right across from you, naked hands placed on the rough surface of the table.
		
*if (lestradeMan)
	His voice deep and rumbling.
*else
	Her voice husky and warm.
	
*if (eyeColour = "blue")
	"Come on. Haven't I earnt' it?" Dark, black eyes on your blues. "Won't you say it, $!{mc_name}…" 
*else
	"Come on. Haven't I earnt' it?" Dark, black eyes on you. "Won't you say it, $!{mc_name}..." 

${lestradeName} lips part as ${l_he} leans forward across the table.

"I won," ${l_he} whispers, as well as one may whisper in a crowded bar. "Fair, square. Found the perp, caught em. [i]Before you[/i]. Closed the case. Don't you think that deserves…" ${l_hi} eyes glance down briefly at your lips before returning. "Some… recognition?"

You know exactly what ${l_he} wants you to say.

But—

$!{l_he} had won on a technicality. A hail mary based on fiction that proved later to be correct. One win, one out of a hundred, and ${l_he} demands...

*fake_choice
	#"I'm leaving—"
	#"This is not worth it—"
	#"If you're gonna be like this—"
	#"This is not why I came here—"

$!{l_hi} hand shoots out to grab your arm. "Hey—"

${lestradeName} holds you there, a little firmer than ${l_he} might have intended had ${l_he}'d been a more sober ${l_man}.

"Come—Come on." $!{l_he} lets your arm go as ${l_he} realises ${l_hi} mistake. "I'll make it worth your while…"

"How?" You return fully to your seat. Something in ${l_hi} softening tone and apparent sincerity tells you ${l_he} might mean it. Might have something to show for it.

"Stay. I—I'll, for each—" $!{l_he} grabs the nearby bowl of almonds, pour over ${l_hi} straight shot, and pulls out ${l_hi} matches from a pocket. A small flame comes to life. "Snapdragon. Each round you win, I'll tell you about a cold case. The ones locked up real tight."

*page_break

[i]Snapdragon...[/i] 

You knew it well enough. Perhaps one could call it a parlour game, or a drinking game. But the method of it all is slowly dying out because of the associated risks. Strong alcohol is poured over a low bowl and then lit aflame. Inside the bowl, there is something edible and small—raisins or almonds. And to win, you dip your hand across the flames and pluck out a prize. 

One by one.

There is a lot to win. Even one case file such as that could be... 

But what if there is a lot to lose?

The victor of Snapdragon is the one that remains with the most bounty at their side. One has to be quick when stealing from fire. But even if there's a bucket of water by the side, to quench the worst burns, being slow or greedy will...

"And if [i]I[/i] lose?" you question. 

"Tell me a truth," ${l_he} says. "Do a dare. Take your pick, just—stay. Alright?"

$!{l_hi} dark eyes remain on you. Waiting. Watching.

[i]Why does ${l_he} need me to stay...[/i]

*fake_choice
	#"I will," I say. "I'll stay..."
	#I shift closer to the bowl, my hand stretching in preparation to fight the fire, as I hold ${l_hi} gaze in turn.
	#"You're going down, inspector," I can't help the smile that grows across my lips at the challenge.

Those dark eyes remain on you.

The lit match touches down.

And with light and spark, a flame takes shape.

*page_break

The patrons and coppers have all but left, the night is darkened, the flame burns bright, and—

$!{l_he} groans, "Hells, what can I—there aren't any other cases. Shit, Sherlock—you've just been told the pile that's been in the back since, since damn near before I joined."

A pile of almonds lie by your side, and a smaller pile by ${l_his}. Not many remain in the bowl. The inspector's hands were a little singed, a little burnt. And ${l_hi} previous [i]good humour[/i] thoroughly trampled and dimmed.

*fake_choice
	#"Could have called it quits."
	#"For your own sake, I think—"
	#"Lestrade—"

Say what you will about the inspector. $!{l_he} swore and flexed ${l_hi} hand in all directions, but ${l_he} never backed down. Not from a challenge. Not one... from you.

"No," firmly, ${l_he} says it.

$!{l_he} gaze narrows. And you recognise it before ${l_he} does it, but any objection is too slow as—${l_he} dunks ${l_hi} hand in the cold water, and then—

*if (lestradeMan)
	The large hand penetrates the flame, grabs, digs, pulls the entirety, and places it on the table with a hard slam against the wood. Then the hand flies off it. Clenching, opening. Shaking up, down. He stands and swears—shouts the words—into the empty pub. 
*else
	The long hand penetrates the flame, grabs, digs, pulls the entirety, and places it on the table with a hard slam against the wood. Then the hand flies off it. Clenching, opening. Shaking up, down. She stands and swears—curses the words—into the empty pub. 

Then ${l_he} puts ${l_hi} whole hand, and damn near the arm, in the bucket next to you. 

And without another word, ${l_he} sits back down in ${l_hi} chair.

*page_break

By the frown on Lestrade's brow, ${l_he} knew just how foolish ${l_he} had been. How stupid. But ${l_he} says nothing. $!{l_he} doesn't meet your gaze. $!{l_he} simply counts ${l_hi} almonds, then yours.

"33."

You had 31.

And ${l_he} knew you did. It was clear in that even tone of ${l_hi}.
*temp whyLine 0
*fake_choice
	#"Was it worth it?"
		*set whyLine 1
		"... When I know, I'll tell you," ${l_he} almost grunts the words.
	#"Whatever could have compelled you to—"
		*set whyLine 2
		"You'll know soon enough..." ${l_he} almost sighs the words.
	#"You're a damn fool—"
		*temp whyLine 3
		"Yes," ${l_he} almost grunts the words. "And I'll know soon enough just [i]how[/i] foolish I am."
	#"Why..."
		*temp whyLine 4
		"I'll tell you. Soon..." ${l_he} almost sighs the words.

Then, it was your turn.

What had ${l_he} said? Truth or dare...

*choice
	#"Truth."
		*goto truth
	#"Dare."
		*goto dare



*label truth
"Truth..." the inspector repeats in a quiet, unreadable tone.

$!{l_hi} eyes trail your features as they slowly widen to some realisation, and then ${l_he} begins to... laugh. A full laugh. Shaking shoulders and all.

The table shakes with the movement, and you have to steady the wood lest the remaining flames were to dip and dare death to you all.

Your inspector wipes at ${l_hi} eyes, tears, from ${l_hi} emotional—seemingly positive—outburst.

*fake_choice
	#"Are you ill?!" I ask with some haste and a frown. What else is there to explain this?
		$!{l_hi} laughter dies down to a chuckle, and then to a shake of the head and a funny, warm gaze that you can't place.

		"No. No, I—" $!{l_he} leans forward, the light of the candle on the small table as if melting the edges of ${l_hi} hardened eyes into tender molasses. "I swear. I had but one wish tonight and... I am lucky, is all."
	#"Why—did I choose wrongly? Correctly? What am I missing—"
		$!{l_hi} laughter dies down to a chuckle, and then to a shake of the head and a funny, warm gaze that you can't place.

		"No. No, I—" $!{l_he} leans forward, the light of the candle on the small table as if melting the edges of ${l_hi} hardened eyes into tender molasses. "I swear. I had but one wish tonight and... I am lucky, is all."
	#"I am glad you are enjoying yourself. However, ${lestradeName}, would you be a dear and explain what is so terribly amusing—"
		$!{l_hi} laughter dies down to a chuckle, and then to a shake of the head and a funny, warm gaze that you can't place.

		"[i]Well[/i], I—" $!{l_he} leans forward, the light of the candle on the small table as if melting the edges of ${l_hi} hardened eyes into tender molasses. "I swear. I had but one wish tonight and... I am lucky, is all."
	#"You know, inspector... daring flames when one always wears gloves is one thing, but I had hoped it was regular foolishness and not loss of senses—"
		$!{l_hi} laughter dies down to a chuckle, and then to a shake of the head and a funny, warm gaze that you can't place.

		"Ah, no—" $!{l_he} leans forward, the light of the candle on the small table as if melting the edges of ${l_hi} hardened eyes into tender molasses. "I swear. I had but one wish tonight and... I am lucky, is all."
	#I can but stare. There is naught else to do...
		$!{l_hi} laughter dies down to a chuckle, and then to a shake of the head and a funny, warm gaze that you can't place.

		"I must look right mad... Sherlock, I—" $!{l_he} leans forward, the light of the candle on the small table as if melting the edges of ${l_hi} hardened eyes into tender molasses. "I swear. I had but one wish tonight and... I am feeling lucky, is all."

"Lucky?"

"You stayed. I won, [i]the once[/i]. You picked truth. [i]Lucky[/i]. Heaven sent—" $!{l_he} grins once more.

"And why, pray tell, is that?"

$!{l_he} doesn't glance around the establishment. $!{l_he} knows you are both hidden from view, in a lonely room, and the light is dark, and your voices low. And you sit there, half leaning across the small table in the corner, and ${l_he} occupies the other half of it.

Awfully close.

"Because I can ask you."

There is silence and darkness. A scent of strong liquor and putrid smoke lingers in the air, followed by the smell of burnt almonds. You feel your hands still heated from the game you had previously played.

*fake_choice
	#"Yes?"
	#"Ask me... What exactly?"
	#"This is a very strange game..."
	#"I thought it was [i]you[/i] who was supposed to be asking me for truths and clarifications, yet I've had to do nothing but..."

"I can ask you..." $!{l_he} blinks, and whatever word was previously prepared does not come. "I can ask you," ${l_he} repeats, slower now.

A small chuckle leaves ${l_him} once more, but a frown appears over ${l_hi} brow. $!{l_he} looks down at ${l_hi} palm, the hand clenching and lightly trembling from some level of injury, no doubt.

"I wanted to ask you, Sherlock... [i]$!{mc_name}[/i], if you think of me. As I think of you... Or if I've been a fool, for far too long."

$!{l_hi} frown dissipates as ${l_he} looks up meets your eyes again.

"The truth," ${l_he} clarifies. "You are bound by it."

You realise then...

You [i]know[/i] then, that despite ${l_hi} bravado, ${l_hi} manners, and all the talk—

This ${l_man} would put ${l_hi} hand through fire just to be allowed to love you.

And to know, whether you love ${l_him}, in turn.


*goto end







*label dare

"Dare..." the inspector repeats in a quiet, unreadable tone.

$!{l_he} doesn't glance around the establishment. $!{l_he} knows you are both hidden from view, in a lonely room, and the light is dark. 

"Close your eyes." 

You sit there, half leaning across the small table in the corner.

"Don't talk."
*fake_choice
	#"Lestrade—"
		"Don't. Talk." It is an order that flows efficiently from ${l_hi} lips; you know ${l_he} won't accept any dissent.
		
		You can not but close your eyes.
	#I close my eyes.

There is silence and darkness. A scent of strong liquor and putrid smoke lingers in the air, followed by the smell of burnt almonds. You feel your hands still heated from the game you had previously played.

$!{l_hi} chair creaks, then. 

*if (lestradeMan)
	Another creak follows as some warm air comes closer. A breath flows across your cheek, and words are whispered into your ear in a remarkably low tone. "$!{mc_name}... I..." You feel ${l_him} swallow; whatever words or bravery had taken over ${l_him} fell as soon as he neared. 
*else
	Another creak follows as some warm air comes closer. A breath flows across your cheek, and words are whispered into your ear in a remarkably soft tone. "$!{mc_name}... I..." You feel her swallow; whatever words or bravery had taken over her fell as soon as she neared. 

"I dare you to... forget. This. If I was foolish enough to imagine..." 
$!{l_hi} breath nears. Then ${l_hi} lips press against yours. 

And again, the chair creaks, and the table shifts as ${l_hi} arms steady ${l_himself} against it. This light touch of ${l_hi} lips is followed by a tremble that wrecks through ${l_hi} frame and a heavy sigh that whispers across your skin as ${l_he} soon pulls away.

And you feel the lack of ${l_him} far too keenly as ${l_hi} does. 

*page_break

Your eyes open.

But the sight before you is not what you expected.

$!{l_hi} black eyes are wide and large. This unfamiliar gaze finds you, but it is as if ${l_he} does not see you. And ${l_hi} breath comes and goes with sudden haste.

$!{l_he} appears entirely unsure.

*comment [i]$!{l_he} is not one to ever doubt.[/i]

"Lestrade—Lestrade, look at me—" you say, but it is as if ${l_he} does not hear you.

*fake_choice
	#I grab ${l_hi} lapel with a firm grip, and pull ${l_him} back towards me.
		This time you pull ${l_him} in for a kiss.

		And once the surprise settles, once ${l_hi} eyes close once more, ${l_he} kisses you back with hunger no longer held back, and with fear no longer haunting ${l_him} at the prospect of your rejection.
	#“${lestradeName}," I whisper as I need ${l_him} to understand me. "Won't you kiss me again...”
		And once the surprise settles across ${l_hi} features, once ${l_hi} eyes finally find you, and ${l_hi} mind finally hears you— 

		$!{l_he} leans in and kisses you with hunger no longer held back, and with fear no longer haunting ${l_him} at the prospect of your rejection.

	#“You did not imagine it,” I admit.
		And once the surprise settles across ${l_hi} features, ${l_he} leans in and kisses you with hunger no longer held back, and with fear no longer haunting ${l_him} at the prospect of your rejection.


When [i]you[/i] pull away this time, ${l_hi} shoulders are low, relaxed. A slow smile tugs at the corners of ${l_hi} lips, and ${l_hi} eyes travel your expression to take it in rather than to await some inevitable contempt.
*if (whyLine = 1)
	"What did you ask... 'was it worth it?'"

	A small chuckle leaves ${l_him} as ${l_he} looks down at ${l_hi} palm, the hand clenching and lightly trembling. “I would do it a thousand times…”

*if (whyLine = 2)
	"What did you ask... 'Whatever could have compelled me?'"

	A small chuckle leaves ${l_him} as ${l_he} looks down at ${l_hi} palm, the hand clenching and lightly trembling. “I'd do a lot worse for a lot less… Just say the word...”
*if (whyLine = 3)
	"What did you say... 'I'm a fool?'"

	A small chuckle leaves ${l_him} as ${l_he} looks down at ${l_hi} palm, the hand clenching and lightly trembling. “Must be, but only for...”
*if (whyLine = 4)
	"What did you ask... 'why did I do it?'"

	A small chuckle leaves ${l_him} as ${l_he} looks down at ${l_hi} palm, the hand clenching and lightly trembling. “For...”


$!{l_hi} words die as ${l_he} meets your eyes again.

And you know, despite ${l_hi} bravado, ${l_hi} manners, and all the talk—

This ${l_man} would walk through fire just to kiss you.

*comment Would go through hell to touch you.

*comment Give their life to love you.


*label end
*page_break
[b]Epilogue:[/b]

[i]Many moments later, that went far too quick, and all too cherished. By the same table. By the same ${l_man}.[/i]

$!{l_he} allows your hands to inspect ${l_hi}, against the table of the bar. But ${l_hi} eyes never leave your face. They found a home there to linger, from lips to nose to cheek.

And ${l_he} carries, once again, a smirk. A muted, self-assured, lulled thing that spoke once more of how ${l_he} must have known these events were inescapable despite not knowing it at all. Truly, ${l_he} is the best of the coppers, but ${l_he} is not such a detective as that.

Not even you knew...

*fake_choice
	#"We have to mend your burns..."
		"We have to mend your burns..." The sight pains you, even if it does not seem to pain ${l_him}. "I know that Watson has some ointments that might help. At home."

	#"Your hand—"
		"Your hand—it needs to be seen to." The sight pains you, even if it does not seem to pain ${l_him}. "I know that Watson keeps some ointments. At home."

	#"Come home with me."
		"Come home with me," you say.

"Gonna take care of me, Sherlock?" ${l_hi} eyes remain at ${l_hi} new favourite spot, dancing across your features and drinking you in. "I might need some proper care..."

$!{l_he} flips ${l_hi} hand over and inspects it, but it never leaves the edge of your nearness. Brushing your fingers ever so. "Might not be able to do much, for a while. [i]In my state[/i], not much one can do alone..."

*fake_choice
	#"Foolish as you were—" I press my thumb into ${l_hi} palm. "You hardly deserve it. But—"
		$!{l_he} hisses loudly, and a stiffening of figure and form. But ${l_he} does not pull away, nor does ${l_he} correct you.

		"Yes, well—" Lestrade grits the words.

		"But," you continue, "I'll make an exception. This once." Then you release your pressing finger and leave a soothing touch in its wake.

		"Yeah?" ${l_he} exhales as ${l_he} follows your soft touch with ${l_hi} eyes.

		"As I see it, you're unlikely to do it again. You have what you wanted. Do you not?"

		"Yeah, ${mc_name}. I got what I wanted alright," ${lestradeName} says, as ${l_hi} gaze returns to ${l_hi} new favourite spot.

		Dark, warm eyes dancing across your visage, and an assured smirk across ${l_hi} lips.

		[i]"Best damn thing I ever did."[/i]
	#I lean down to blow on ${l_hi} palm softly, to help soothe the burn. "I'll be gentle."
		$!{l_he} chuckles darkly, and ${l_hi} now narrowing eyes dip to your figure and form. 

		"Yeah?" Lestrade asks. "Some tender love and care?"

		"Mmm. But—you have to promise." You lift your head and leave your hand to linger as the soothing balm in your breath's stead.

		"Anything," ${l_he} swears as ${l_hi} eyes follow your hand and its caresses.

		"You have to promise to never do it again... Besides, there won't ever be any need now, will there?"

		"No, ${mc_name}. Too right," ${lestradeName} says, as ${l_hi} gaze returns to ${l_hi} new favourite spot.

		Dark, warm eyes dancing across your visage, and an assured smirk across ${l_hi} lips.

		[i]"I got all I need."[/i]
	#Take ${l_hi} hand in mine and kiss the pad of one singed finger. "Can't have that, can we?"
		$!{l_he} chuckles darkly, and ${l_hi} now narrowing eyes dip to your figure and form. 

		"No," Lestrade says. "Can't have that..."

		"But. You have to promise." You release ${l_hi} hand, and leave yours simply lingering as a soothing touch by its side.

		"Anything," ${l_he} swears in a breath as ${l_hi} eyes follow your hand and its machinations.

		"You have to promise to never do it again... Besides, there won't ever be any need now, will there?"

		"No, ${mc_name}. Too right," ${lestradeName} says, as ${l_hi} gaze returns to ${l_hi} new favourite spot.

		Dark, warm eyes dancing across your visage, and an assured smirk across ${l_hi} lips.

		[i]"I already got all I need."[/i]

*ending


We have to take care of your hand…

You shouldn't use it for a while.



- the details on how L won.
x why L was afraid.
- L and mc feelings / background.
- L level of competence.
- how snap dragon works.
- kiss transition
- truth part



*page_break



*ending

