AN: HEY! You're back! Thanks so much for turning to the very first actual chapter of Greta!

Because of a certain someone, I have been able to share with you my book. She has given me encouragement sand even read the crappy rough draft of this book that was contained in a small torn composition notebook!

So without further ado, I give you the first dedication to Banana_tree (if this works! XD I don't know how to Wattpad, but she's reading this anyways cuz I'm forcing her!!! )

Sorry bout the whole no-see-picture thing...

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*Song of the Chapter* : The Good, The Bad and The Dirty- Panic! At The Disco (yusssssss)

Sherlock POV-

"Inspector Lestrade!" I called out as I dashingly opened the doors to his office.

He seemed fixed on something and was obviously annoyed when I interrupted his work.

He rolled his eyes a he slowly raised his head from his paperwork, but I didn't care to notice it as I threw the phone number on top of the folders.

"Here." I said, expecting him to somehow know what to do. He gave me a look and raised his eyebrows.

"Here...? What am I supposed to do with this?" He inspected the number and squinted his eyes, throwing it back down in frustration. Watson stepped forward.

"Run it through the program? Find out who it belongs to, maybe?" He said with anticipation.

"Well, I can't just spontaneously run this number without you either having a warrant or a reason to invade someone's private information!" Inspector Lestrade defended himself, throwing his hands up in the air.

"There's a reason." I said as if it were obvious. "Just...a private one." I furrowed my eyebrows. He sighed, rubbing circles on the sides of his temple.

"Sherlock," he grew impatient, "I can't just-! You won't make me, uh-! That's not a good enough reason to-! Ah, Bloody Hell!" He grabbed the number and stormed out of his office.

I raised my eyebrows at Watson who returned the look.

"What's gotten into him?" He asked.

"Boredom." I replied, following after Inspector Lestrade. We found him with his arms crossed and tapping his foot in front of Anderson.

"Are you gonna run the bloody number or not, because I can find someone else perfectly capable of doing so."

Anderson wearily took the number.

"No, I can do it." He sighed. "What's the number for anyways?" Anderson inspected it the same way Lestrade did in the office.

"No one in particular, no reason in particular- now do what I ask of you!" He shouted. Anderson furrowed his eyebrows (if he has any) and walked away to a white room with closed doors, using keys to unlock it.

"There," Inspector turned around towards John and I, "happy?"

"Mhm," I hummed, "very much so, thank you Inspector." I 'smiled' at him.

"How long until the number is run through?" Watson asked, pointing a finger at the room.

"Well," Inspector began, "I did ask Anderson to do the dirty work...so it all depends on him."

I rolled my eyes.

"Great. Well done. We'll be here until next month." I ran my hands through my hair.

"I'm sure it won't take that long! It's just a number." Inspector shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm hungry," I said turning to Watson, "are you hungry? Because I'm hungry."

"Not necessarily-"

"Alright then, since you insist." I interrupted. "Inspector Lestrade, how about you just give me a call when blank-space is finished, and we'll come back when we've finished eating? Good." I finished for him, leaving Watson scrambling behind, after bidding goodbye to the Inspector. 

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"So, let me get this straight," Watson asked, once we got our drinks from a local grille, "Moriarty came to ask you for a favor?"

"Yes, a favor. He wanted me to contact someone. Her, she, a girl. He wanted me to contact the number he gave me if he ever got 'in trouble'. Once I rejected the idea, saying that I didn't want to contact his henchman, he got defensive for her." I looked out the window, folding my fingers and resting my chin on top of them.

"Okay..." Watson trailed, taking a sip of a Lemonade. I caught sight of the glass and had to look again to believe what I was seeing.

"Lemonade? I thought you said you hated lemonade?" I gave him a look. Watson quit swirling the straw in the drink.

"When did I ever say that? I never said I hated lemonade." He took another sip.

"Yeah, of course you did! You told me."

"Um, no. I haven't."

"Well, now you do." I switched his Lemonade for my water. He looked at me, and began to chuckle. "What?" I snapped.

"You just can't handle being wrong, can you?"

"Of course I can handle...being...wrong. What makes you think I can't?"

"Well, for one, you just now switched my drink because you thought I didn't like lemonade."

"You don't! Anymore..." I added, looking back out the window. He laughed, shaking his head and looking down at the table.

"Unbelievable."

A waiter came to take our orders. I didn't want anything while Watson ordered some fried steak. That's how it always was. John was always the one to actually order food.

"What doesn't make sense," I began again, "Is that a man like Moriarty, can find a she, in the first place. Doesn't she know what he does? Is she even affiliated with him?" I shook my head, resting it in my hands. Watson's food had arrived, and as soon as she left, he dove in.

"Maybe she is aware of what he does, and is affiliated in his business?"  Watson tried.

"She couldn't be. Moriarty was upset because I thought he what he was contacting was henchmen or criminals and he said she wasn't."

My phone bleeped, showing a text message saying that Anderson was done with the process and figured out something I should see about the number.

"Is that Inspector?" Watson asked, looking at the phone in my hands.

"Yes, yes it is." I smirked. "C'mon, Watson!" I practically stormed out of the grille and demanded a taxi once I reached the streets of London.

Watson came outside.

"Where does the thought in your big ol' head of yours that says, 'hmm, John just got his food, I'm gonna make him leave it after two bites!' come from!? I mean, I wasn't hungry before, but now I am! Couldn't you be considerate enough to-"

His food rant continued as we hopped into the taxi and even when we walked into the doors of Scotland Yard.

"-So all I'm asking, is that you have a little courtesy and let me finish my food before you run off-"

"Sherlock!" A booming voice cried as Inspector Lestrade strode up to us. "Come follow me. I have all the information we could get!"

"Perfect!" I cried, doing a happy dance in my mind palace. "I bet it's good?"

"Yeah, but now I'm wondering what in God's name you want with America?" Lestrade gave me a look, and as usual I ignored it.

America! Ha ha!

I'm getting places that no normal Sherlock Holmes could ever get.

The game is on, and growing hotter by the second.

AN: YAAAAAAY! *pterodactyl screeches* WE FINISHED THE FOIRST CHAPTER!

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peace✌️