Greg Lestrade got out of his car and heaved a heavy sigh. He'd be coming home to a empty house, as his wife decided to leave again. It had also been a long day at work. Anderson and Donovan were currently in a "Lover's spat," if you could call it that (it was more like a lover's spat on steroids) and it didn't exactly help the difficult case. A vigilante of sorts, elusive and seemingly coordinating with other criminals through codes. Except that instead of attacking known criminals, he would attack seemingly innocent people. He didn't kill them- just scare them enough to put them in therapy and hurt them enough to put them in hospital, all without revealing who he was. He seems to have some sort of voice manipulator for the few words he said and wore a hood.

Overall, it was something a certain detective would've loved.

On top of that, it had been one of "those days." A day where he really missed his long-dead friend, Sherlock Holmes.

He was closer to the "sociopath" than either of them let people think, on request of Sherlock. Greg went along, ignoring all of the hurtful comments Sherlock shot at him while they were in public, as he knew that they meant next to nothing.

He trudged up to his door, barely noticing the shadow next to the steps.

"He's planning to strike next week on Thursday at noon, in the alley by Bart's," a deep voice alerted Lestrade to the shadow's presence and he whipped around to face it.

Lestrade's breath hitched slightly as he caught sight of the bottom of a very familiar, if slightly more worn, Belstaff coat in the dim lighting.

"S-Sherlock?"

"His name is Thomas Ryans, he's targeting a man named Wallace Barns, a well-known businessman. Motive is revenge- Thomas believes that Wallace cheated money from his family. They're brothers-in-law and have never gotten along. The 'code' is just a red herring- he's working alone," Sherlock continued to inform as he stepped out of the shadows.

Lestrade gaped for a solid thirty seconds and Sherlock's lip twitched up almost imperceptibly.

Then, Lestrade snapped out of it, launched at the detective and drew him into a hug. "Oh, you bastard," he whispered jokingly into his friend's ear.

Anyone who thought they knew Sherlock would be shocked to see that he gave a breathy chuckle, and even more so that he hugged the D.I back.

Lestrade dragged Sherlock into his flat and into a chair and looked him over, noting how he was even thinner than normal and he had dark circles under his eyes. He held himself with a slight exhausted slouch.

Then he noticed the black eye and bloody nose.

"What happened there?" He asked, pointing to the wounds. Sherlock winced slightly.

"John. He... Didn't exactly have the same reaction as you." He chuckled. "You know he's not exactly shy about punching people in the face."

Lestrade laughed along. "Yeah, I had to help restrain him from hitting some of the officers when they made particularly nasty comments about you." Then he frowned. "Where were you?"

Sherlock sighed. "Everywhere. I was helping dismantle Moriarty's remaining web. Mycroft and I think we've got the majority."

"Wait... Moriarty...?"

"I meant it when I said that Richard Brook was lying. Moriarty's brilliant, always had a way to cover his tracks."

Lestrade felt guilt creeping in. "Sherlock-"

"No, Greg, don't even start. I can't blame you for getting swept up in such a convincing lie."

Sherlock's statement relieved some of the guilt. "What happened while you were gone?"

Sherlock shrugged. "A disguise change here, some covert 'missions,' an occasional torture." He said the last part fast, but Lestrade caught it.

"Torture?!"

"It's nothing, Greg."

"Of course it's something, Sherlock! It's torture!" Lestrade was already worried and he had his friend back for less than five minutes! Who know where he was while he was gone and what infections might have gotten into his system? And knowing Sherlock's disregard for personal care...

Sherlock sensed what his friend needed to do and sighed in resignation. "Take a look if you must."

One short, appreciative nod later and Lestrade was over by Sherlock, lifting up his shirt and rolling up his pants legs, inspecting the bandaging on each wound until he was satisfied.

Then he turned to something from earlier. "How'd you know about Thomas Ryan's?"

"I've been around," Sherlock replied with a glint in his eyes. "You police truly have no idea how useful it is to have a Homeless Network at your disposal."

Lestrade laughed. "I suppose you're right. I'll have to set everything up for next Thursday then."

"Yes, I suppose you will. Have a good time explaining how you got the information," Sherlock joked and Greg smiled broadly.

The two talked for a while longer, Lestrade stopping halfway through to get some tea and biscuits, practically shoving a few biscuits down Sherlock's throat (and feeling a bit like Mrs. Hudson in the process).

Sherlock tried and, amazingly, failed to stifle a yawn and it was then that Lestrade noticed it was far past midnight. He insisted that Sherlock spend the night there and, "Never mind if Ashley comes back early, you need a place to stay."

So after setting up the spare bed, Lestrade returned to his own room, got ready for bed, lie down and smiled.

His last thought before he fell into the first peaceful, non guilt-ridden sleep he'd had in two years was, "He's back."

A/N so, a while back, I got a review on Everyone's Scared of Something. It was from someone named AmazingThaliaGrace and it was literally just a single question mark (I had posted the wrong chapter). Somehow, that sprouted into an emoticon battle, then some info-sharing, then a game of "Two Truths and a Lie." When we ran out of material, we decided to give writing challenges. She asked for a Papa-Lestrade fic so I obliged with this alternate TRF reunion. I really do like to think that Lestrade and Sherlock are closer than they let on. ATG, I know it's not quite what you asked for, but I hope you like it anyway! Besides- I can always continue this to accommodate anything else you wanted me to do. After all, who truly does know what infections could've gotten into his system? ;)

I usually don't cuss in stories, but I was quoting Lestrade. ;)

(late) disclaimer- I do not own Sherlock. I just own a copy of all the original mysteries. ;)