回复：【原创】Swapped/彼此彼此

Act II Wise Move vs. Suffering in Skin
Billy: Do your best but act accordingly.
Everyone started to make their moves when they finished a well-prepared meal. Anthea rushed out for some must-be-done jobs after a short talk with her boss. Mycroft insisted not to have personal protection or service since he was D.I. Lestrade now. The one-day holiday permitted Sally and Dimmock to help Mycroft get familiar with Scotland Yard and they went back to Greg’s place. Two Yarders prepared themselves to face someone that was probably difficult to get along with, “For Christ’s sake, he’s a Holmes!” One of such was more than enough.
Nevertheless they got stunned! Mycroft managed to memorize names and occupations easily, smooth the details for present cases neatly, and crack two pending-for-months crimes without a hitch! All of these didn’t surprise them much however, “Please, he’s a Holmes!”
It was the positive attitude Mycroft stood in.
Mycroft consulted their opinions when they went through the documents.
Mycroft didn’t tease any work done in the Yard but spoke highly of their diligence.
Mycroft remained polite and considerate at the moment he brought the cases to their conclusions.
Mycroft even treated them gorgeous afternoon tea during the break and told them ‘AEP’ in the following weeks.
Sally and Dimmock had a wrong impression that the so-called body-swap at all had never happened and the spirit beneath this figure was still Greg Lestrade! Well, just brighter. Fine, better off!
“Thank goodness, Greg! You opted for this one to switch. What luck we’ve got!” The two prayed thankfully.
It turned out that Greg was the only one that was free, sitting there by himself and wondering what to do when everyone had things to take care of. He beamed at Billy and the page smiled him back. They smiled back and forth a couple of times and Greg began to feel awkward. Finally he was saved from the awkwardness by the courtesy suggestion offered by Billy that he should have a good look at the building to know places. “I’m living here after all.” Greg thought so when Billy was leading his way.
Lounge, kitchen, study, drawing room and reading room. They took a tour in this handsome mansion, and a stronger and stronger feeling was growing on Greg that his own studio was a slum indeed. The media room interested him a lot whereas the painting on the wall killed his passion of a good movie. He didn’t have to know the masterpiece of Munch, but the screaming face reminded him vividly of his own performance this morning.
“I was ‘AAARRRGGGHHH’, like a little girl!” Greg glanced rapidly at Billy to check the picture didn’t ring him a bell.
‘Is there a gym or whatever in this house?’ asked Greg. Unexpectedly, he saw Billy’s look turning subtly wired so he added in no time. ‘Is there too much trouble?’
‘None at all, Sir. This way, please.’ Billy was trying industriously to recall where the gym shoes were, if there was

a pair, while showing Greg the way. ‘Sir, are you sure to do exercise now? You’ve just got lunch.’
‘Ah never mind. It’s been an hour. I do some sports every day when I’m—was—me.’
‘I’m sorry to say so, but Mr. Holmes himself is no actual sports sort.’
‘Don’t worry. I won’t do much. It’s the last thing you want to see your lord puts on real pounds after two weeks, isn’t it?’ Greg gave Billy a big grin and entered the gym. Billy however, standing at the door, took a deep breath. “God bless you, Master!”
God might take a nap and miss Billy’s pray. Greg woke up next morning, sour all over the body. The page looked at him with a clear I-told-you look and handed him the pain relieving cream. ‘Rome wasn’t built in one day, Sir. How about eating less?’
‘Not gonna happen,’ said Greg, massaging the shanks hard. ‘You feed me too well for me to keep fit.’
‘Maybe some mild practices?’ offered Billy, fighting a weak desire to speak ‘not your fitness’ out.
‘Such as?’
‘Yoga!’
‘Jeez, just push-ups and sit-ups! Then you became useless.’ Greg half shouted at the phone. Mr. Holmes’ mobile as well as the land line in this house, according to Billy, was secure enough for them to feel free to contact in these days.
‘Please don’t take me for my brother, Inspector. He’s good in all manner of sports. I prefer muse,’ answered Mycroft, feeling like smiling. ‘Sounds you’re having your time in my house.’
‘Pretty much. Anthea left me dozens of homework. I’m reading them with great respect.’
‘Hoping you enjoy yourself!’
‘Question, am I allowed to know those things? They’re classified, aren’t they?’ asked Greg while he was neatening the papers.
‘Yes they are, and you’re a man to trust,’ said Mycroft certainly. ‘By the way Greg, why not call your mobile? Check the time.’
‘It’s using up minutes this month. Hold on, Greg? Do I know you?’
‘Well I suppose we’re on a first-name basis, since now we’re in the same boat and I take stock in you. Besides, you’re calling me “useless”.’
‘Fine, me now! Dare you be late, Mycroft!’

每次看小穆的帖子都有一种马上滚去苦学英语的冲动…但是这个文章的设定好萌啊～

Act III Heavy-handed vs. Soft-hearted
Dimmock: One more step you’re a dead man！
The new Mr. Holmes went through everything safe and sound even though the original wisdom went along with the old master. Monsieur Harry had removed as many items as possible off Greg’s agenda to the best of his ability, and Anthea made her effort to fulfill the rest. Therefore it was not necessary for Greg to make essential decisions, or get involved in real events. All he had to do was learn as much as he could to meet indispensable situations.
“God bless them!” Greg felt grateful, heart and soul. Instead of being full of confusion mingled with fears initially, he was willing to cooperate as he’d enriched himself so much these days. For the first time in his life Greg had a chance to reach all sorts of top secrets, high and tense. The two Godsends would like to help him comprehend files and occasions as long as they were available. For example now.
‘Anthea, is it a good time? Would you make an appointment with M’sieur Harry at his convenience, please?’ said Greg, trying to play it cool. ‘Just an old case, no big deal. Is he? No you don’t have to. Yea, thanks.’
The former somebody, Mycroft, was quite into being Greg. For example now.
Commonwealth Day was on the way and there was an annual colloquium organized by Scotland Yard, as an off-the-record rule. Being seasoned Yarders, Inspectors Lestrade and Dimmock were giving presentations and joining the following discussion, hosted by Sergeant Donavan. ‘You are the proud of our Yard, so show them the guts and power!’ according to the Chief Superintendent.
Sitting sedately in the front, Mycroft looked at the future members of police force with a big smile, while Dimmock was murmuring, ‘Bare your teeth! ’Tis too fake!’ That peculiar tight-lipped smile, to Dimmock, looked almost pained on Greg’s kind face, too calculating to have much warmth.
The audiences were of great passion about everything they would possibly meet in their future days. Commends came along with comments, and the three didn’t let them down and gave proper but vivid feedbacks.
Everything went well, and then.
‘Ma’am, may I?’ asked a student-like boy and Sally let him. ‘D.I. Lestrade, they say you’re the best among the all and you’ve got the highest rank in solving cases. No offense, Inspector!’ People laughed when Dimmock shrugged. ‘Is it because Sherlock Holmes is a close friend of yours and doing favors?’
Sally almost swallowed water. Sherlock was no secret as his name and John’s had been on papers and websites. She could reckon how Greg would reply this one, while the here-and-now mister wasn’t him! She somewhat felt nervous, as did Dimmock.
‘I’d say yes and no. Yes, Sherlock is my friend and gives contributions. That young gentleman, beyond question, has a style.’ Mycroft kept his smile and nodded to Sally and Dimmock, as a hint that he knew how to response, while the Yarders, inexplicably, found themselves were in tune with

Mycroft’s plan. ‘No, for two. Sherlock is not my personal friend. We all know him.’
‘Exactly! He gave me a hand once. To be honest with you guys, I idolize Mr. Holmes greatly. Nevertheless, I’ll never simply sit there to wait for him to do works for me.’
‘The other reason is to strive to work as a group. Antique, is it? I can tell from your faces.’ Mycroft carried on, ‘Heroism is terrific and understandable. Have you yet ever considered what heroes are? If you deem a hero is equal to do everything solo, sorry but you’re mistaken.’
‘Don’t just laugh off the stories you’ve heard, taking them as adventure movies, or victories for granted,’ Dimmock took it over. ‘One’s brave enough to charge in the front because he knows who’s standing behind. Trusting our faithful friends, we rely on them and expose our backs to them for their solid backups.’
‘Keep in mind to be prepared and alert,’ said Sally. ‘Before contributing your share, make sure you’re not an actual burden in the first place. Bravery is necessary yet reckless behaviors never count. Stay alive! In the era of peace, you’re worth more alive than dead.’
‘Nobody is less important than any other. You matter.’
‘Once you’re in responsibility, your personal business shouldn’t nag at you. ’
‘Think of the people we’re fighting for.’
‘The best way of showing sympathy is revealing the truth.’
‘See, nice teamwork! Thank D.I. Dimmock and Sergeant Donovan for their excellent remarks. Are we understood?’ Mycroft concluded and motioned to the two, the audience serious. ‘Back to the original question about Mr. Sherlock Holmes, we appreciate his kindness and participation. However we don’t look forward to future co-works; once he’s in, it means something horrible is happening. This is a lovely world after all.’
‘And can you imagine it a living hell?’ asked Monsieur Harry kindly, making a cup of tea and serving it to the silent Greg. It was quite a hard moment for the honest inspector to take over what he was aware of. Not so of a rage as he was when he first read the document, Greg was taken hold of by deep sadness instead, so massive that beyond description.
‘I can’t, and I don’t want to,’ said Greg with a level tongue after a while to calm himself. ‘Is it a must to be hegemon?’
‘No, it’s never a matter of being a winner. We but can’t afford any lose,’ said Monsieur Harry calmly. ‘This plan wasn’t put into actual action if it makes you feel easy.’
‘They’re dead but taken advantage of. How about their dignity?’ murmured Greg as though to himself, and then he looked up to ask, grieved but firm. ‘Next…if there was a next time, would we, I mean, you…fine, we! Do we still have to do such?’
‘I appreciate your goodness and righteousness much, D.I. Lestrade. But sometimes we merely have options from death, and death.’
All or nothing.
Sitting quietly there, Greg was considering the conversation with Monsieur Harry. The past peaceful days gave him a wrong impression that he could manage such a life, as getting involved in crucial events, reading tons of documents, attending meetings with VIPs and being decent. Till this moment he had a good idea that he would never make it, because Greg Lestrade would never give out decisions as harsh as those Mycroft Holmes had done.
‘We're not made of marble, Greg. Even if we have to wear stony masks.' The gentleman's words came to him again. Getting on his feet from the yoga mat, Greg took a last look at the wall and he had decided.

doing.
Nonetheless Mycroft was palming his face now. He could sense the storm in the air and it didn’t come for nothing. He followed the field personnel of Dimmock’s division last night and experienced hunting the criminal vividly. It turned out that Mycroft was so excited that he had a sleepless night when back to the studio. Unexpectedly he got a call in the morning when out of sorts. Right this moment, looking at the ring on the left ring finger, Mycroft felt awful.
‘Youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!’ Sally stormed into the office and shut the door by force, furious.
‘Let me explain, please!’ said Mycroft anxiously. ‘I am so, so sorry! I didn’t know that shouting lady was his wife.’
‘Thank to you, she’s his soon-to-be ex-wife!’ yelled Sally madly, her mobile grasped in hand. ‘What the heck did you say to her?’
‘I, said…’ answered Mycroft in a stuttered way.
‘You said “Reserve a time with Anthea!” What in Heaven’s name were you thinking?’
‘I wasn’t conscious…’
‘And she just called me! Screaming for twenty minutes!’ She was on the brink to scream too.
‘What was she screaming for?’
‘She asked me who Anthea was and labeled her “the other woman”!’
‘But it was her sleeping…’
‘I KNOW!’ Sally finally exploded and stormed out to the corridor. ‘Anderson!’
‘What d’you want? I’ll response!’ said Dimmock nervously. Anderson rolled his eyes so hard that Dimmock felt hurt at the back of his own head.
‘Are you guys hiding something from me? You’ve been all dubious.’
‘What brought on that?’
‘Greg! Neatly-ironed suit, well-cut trousers. Dressed up like he’s ready for a dinner anytime. Taking tea instead of coffee; healthier, he says. What was the last time he went to Holmes?’
‘Tea is healthier,’ said Dimmock awkwardly, wondering why Mycroft had to go to Sherlock.
‘He’ not himself!’ called Anderson, staring at Dimmock with a why-not-get-me face. ‘God knows something must happen to him!’
Dimmock fought so hard not to say bingo, ‘God does have a weird sense of humor.’
‘Anderson!’ A thunder came from the corridor before Anderson tried to continue, too strong for the door to screen it. Dimmock found a way out at once.
‘Try Sally, perhaps she knows!’
‘Anderson! Where the Hell is my signature?’ another thunder came.
‘Gosh!’ Anderson looked at the file in his hand and rushed out of the room. ‘Dare I?’
Dimmock stood there for a couple of seconds and talked to the mobile again. ‘My boss has definitely known! Even Anderson’s caught the hints!’
‘Just shut your mouth up, Mycroft Holmes! If I were not a cop…’
‘You still can’t kill me!’ The wrongdoer added immediately. ‘I’m terribly sorry and not making excuses for my recklessness, Greg. But frankly speaking isn’t it a time for you to have a good consideration about your marriage? Separation is no answer.’
‘Don’t you pretend to be an expert in the marriage.’
‘It doesn’t take a genius to meet your problem although there isn’t much theory in me. Have you ever heard, “happy wife, happy life”?’
‘We used to be happy,’ said Greg, sorry for himself. ‘If I were not that busy…’
‘You would never be the conscientious D.I. Lestrade that we’ve known,’ said Mycroft kindly with a certainty. ‘It’s never ever your fault, Greg. Let bygones be bygones, cherish the present.’
Saying no more for a while, Greg carried on. ‘I’ll never say thank you!’
‘You’re still very welcome.’
Squinting at the page boy after hanging up the phone, Greg twisted his lips. Billy, wondering what was happening here, said at last, ‘Sir, sesame oil?’ ‘Ginger juice!’ said Greg hatefully.