Chapter 1

The Grand Tour

Lestrade stared at the freshly painted door of 221 B Baker Street. His hand was hesitantly hovering above the doorknob. At his side stood Sherlock, patiently waiting for the DI. His eyes rested on him, reading Lestrade's ever thought in just a single glance. Lestrade sucked in a deep breath. He had never expected something like this would happen. He never would have thought that he would be living with Sherlock and john, but he certainly never thought that the great detective himself would blow up Lestrade's flat. Sherlock's hand fell on Lestrade's shoulder.

"Lestrade, I hate to break the moment, but it's cold and dark and I really rather spend my night inside," Sherlock muttered, pulling his coat closer to himself. Lestrade stiffened a little and glanced up at the detective with slit eyes.

"Give me a break, Sherlock, I'm about to end up living with you and John for a while. Do you know how I-"

"Yes," Sherlock interrupted, his hand falling from Lestrade's shoulder. Lestrade cursed at himself and let his hand finally turn the knob of the door. He pushed it open and stepped inside with Sherlock right next to him. They climbed up the stairway, which still had the same squeaky steps like the old ones. Before Lestrade made it to the top of the stairs, Sherlock beat him to the door and flung it open, a wide smile cracked along his face. Lestrade followed the detective inside, eyes wide at the sight of the new flat.

"It…it…it looks exactly the same," Lestrade stated, dumfounded. He wasn't kidding either. The same wallpaper hung on the walls, painted with a yellow smiley face and decorated with bullet holes and a painting of a skull. The sitting room was a complete mess just like before. Files and papers flung all around and a violin sitting on the sill of the new and larger windows. The mount with the headphones still sat on the wall, a little blackened from the fire more than twenty days ago, but hardly noticeable. The fireplace was far grander than it originally was, but it was still cluttered with cards and a stack of letters pinned down by the glimmering blade of Sherlock's knife. A lovely collection of photos sat along the fireplace. Ones of Mrs. Hudson with Sherlock and John and a couple from the Christmas parties they all celebrated together. Each photo held perfectly wonderful memories. There were more doors as well, Lestrade noticed. One was where it had always been. The one that led to Sherlock's bedroom. The door was open so Lestrade could see the inside perfectly. Hanging on the wall was a poster of the periodic table and the empty case for the violin sat on his bare bed. Lestrade glanced away from the room and up the stairs that had originally led to John's room. Now there were two rooms sitting there.

"That's John's room and the guest bedroom," Sherlock clarified, noticing the inspectors staring. Lestrade nodded and marched up to the guest room to see his new room. To his astonishment all of his things were there. The half shattered fish tank was fixed up and sitting by the window, the sunlight making the water glisten. There was even fish in the tank for once! Small little gold fish with fat bellies. His bed had silk blankets stacked up on the bed and a quilt hung over the bar of the bed. Pictures of his family sat on the shelves right next to the bed and his clothes were hung neatly in the closet. "What do you think?" Sherlock asked, stepping into the room and glancing around like he had not seen the room yet either. Lestrade let a smile widen across his face and turned to his friend. It's perfect Sherlock. The corners of Sherlock's mouth slipped up and he nodded toward the stairs for Lestrade to follow. Reluctantly, Lestrade left his room, passing the closed door of John's room and back down the stairs. Sherlock led him into the kitchen next and Lestrade almost yelped in shock by the sight of it. The entire kitchen was spotless of any mess what so ever! Food took over the cabinets and none of the cans or boxes was past their expiration date. Instead of a head in the fridge eggs, milk, and tons of other lovely looking food was piled inside the fridge. Lestrade looked at the table then only to see that it was clear of any experiment and was instead set up with plates and a bowl of fresh fruit (no apples of course). Lestrade turned to Sherlock with his hands gesturing all around him.

"Since when is the kitchen ever clean?" he asked. Sherlock chuckled lightly at the inspector and walked over to a door Lestrade had not noticed in the kitchen. There was a warning sign printed on the door and Lestrade watched as Sherlock opened the door to reveal what looked like a laboratory. Tables were set up with computers and scientific gear and utensils. Experiments cluttered the area. And a fridge sat in the corner containing who knows what.

"Mrs. Hudson had asked the repair man to add the lab in. She said that she was tired of having holes burned through her tables," Sherlock sighed, but he didn't seem at all to mind the change. In fact, he looked rather pleased staring at the wonderful lab.

"Sherlock?" John's voice called from the sitting room. Sherlock turned his head and strolled out of the lab, shutting the door after Lestrade and walked into the sitting room to be greeted by John, who was carrying a box. John smiled at Lestrade when he entered the room with Sherlock, giving him a warm greeting and then turned to Sherlock. "I found this out on the step when I got home. Any idea what it is?" John asked. Sherlock took the box from John and sat in his chair. it wasn't the same chair Sherlock used to have. It looked identical, except for the color. This one was such a dark blue that it almost appeared black at first. John's chair was similar to the one he had before. The color was more of a green and the Union-Jack pillow was sitting on it, half burnt from the fire. Sherlock eyed the box, checking for a name, but found nothing at all.

"Shall we open it?" Sherlock asked, holding his hand out to John. John pulled out a pocket knife and handed it to Sherlock before taking a seat in his chair. Lestrade sat down on the new black couch that sat up against the wall. It was a comfortable leather couch that was warm from the sunlight cracking through the windows. Sherlock stabbed at the tape lining the box and pulled away the flaps of the card bored container. Packing peanuts flew out of the box, flying this way and that. A triumphant shout came from the detective as his hands flew into the box. A skull was now in his hands and the box was sitting empty on the floor.

"Wait, I thought you two took that when you left?" Lestrade stated, frowning at the skull known as Billy. Sherlock shook his head.

"We couldn't find it. We just figured that we had packed it up already, but…" Sherlock trailed off as he noticed a letter in the skulls mouth. He frowned at it, bringing it out to see the graceful handwriting all of them knew. Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock opened the letter and read it out.

"The firemen found this in the rubble of Lestrade's flat. If there is any- and Sherlock I'm talking about you- pranks against me used with that skull I guarantee you shall forever be cursed with helping me Friday shopping! Any-who…have fun, Dearies! I'll be at my sister for a bit. There is some casserole in the fridge if you are hungry. Love, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock shivered once he finished reading. "I still don't see what is so wonderful about Good Friday shopping," Sherlock mumbled.

"Well, you better keep your opinions to yourself, Sherlock. The last we want is to be stuck shopping with her again in those crowded stores," John said, waving a finger at his flat mate. Sherlock paled.

"Mrs. Hudson is a shopping ninja." Lestrade couldn't help but to laugh. If Sherlock and John were afraid to shop with Mrs. Hudson it had to be pretty bad.

"So, Greg," John said suddenly. "What do you think of the new and improved 221B?" Lestrade took another glance around.

"It's wonderful but, why did you have it rebuilt so much like the old 221B?" he asked. John and Sherlock each shared a bright smile with each other now.

"Because it feels more like home," Sherlock stated simply. Lestrade's brows raised.

"This flat is where all of our adventures started. This flat is where it all begins every time. All our cases begin right here in 221B and swapping it out for something different just didn't seem right to us," John informed Lestrade. A smile curved over the inspectors face to now as he said with spirit,

"Well, then this adventure for us is just getting started."

The sequel to Twenty Days with Lestrade is here! Yay! It can be read alone, but some things may pop in later on from previous stories. This takes place right after Sherlock burned down Lestrade's flat. I won't be updating this weekly. I've found that it was difficult to do with 20 Days so I think I shall just update whenever I get a new chapter written. Plus I need to focus on The Dream of a Madman since it has so many twists and turns. This will be on going and I will NEVER complete it. It shall go on forever! As long as I have ideas there will be more. In order for there to be more I will need all of you to help. I need ideas or requests to help me through this one so if you have any ideas at all please put it in a review or PM me. Remember, I'm a crazy writer that will write anything no matter how insane it may seem or look. Thanks and I hope you enjoy this!