Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot. And sometimes, not even that. Oh, and Sara, she's mine. Cookies to all of you who can spot the crossover characters!

Prologue: I'm Leaving on A Shuttle Plane. Don't Know if I Want to Come Back Again...

"It ain't fair! France! For free! Not only that, but to Paris, which makes it all the worse! And none of you evenlikeshopping!" Deidre's face, as it had been for the past week since she found out, was the epitome of dismay. "Do you have any idea how wasteful that is?"

"First off kid, we're only going for free because France's President is a fan of Holmes' and wants to show us off. Secondly, if you want to sit around inside for a week listening to some dodgy new-age yuppies lecture you about teamwork at some stupid government seminar, be my guest. We'll barely have any free time. And just for the record, I'm not stowing you away in my luggage, so don't bother asking...again." Lestrade threw her suitcase onto the hoverbelt, looking at Deidre as she did so. "However," she smiled slightly. "If you're really, really good, and botherallmylovelycolleagues while we're gone, I'll bring you back some French underwear, or something."

"Really!?" Deidre's expression brightened. "Why di'n't you say so in the first place! You mean it?"

Wiggins gave Holmes and Watson a pained look.

"Yeah, sure, scouts honour or whatever. Something scanty with a fancy label." Lestrade's lips quivered.

Holmes gave Wiggins and Watson a pained look.

Sadly interrupting Deidre's throws of ecstasy, Tennyson burst out of the crowds of Heathrow airport, beeping excitedly. Their shuttleplane was loading.

Spurred into action, Holmes, Watson and Lestrade hurriedly saying their last goodbyes to the Irregluars, heading for the check in counter. Once they were safely (if slowly) past security, Holmes turned to Lestrade. "Must you egg her on, Lestrade? It isn't helpful."

Giving him her best innocent grin Lestrade replied. "Moi, mon cher Monsieur Holmes? Surely you jest!"