Title: Hot Fuzz
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Characters: Lestrade, Hopkins, Holmes, Watson
Pairing: Watson/Lestrade, Holmes/Hopkins (both pre-slash)
Rating: G
Length: 935 words
Author notes: To quote the original challenge post: For this challenge, fanworks must be inspired by and named after the title of a book or movie.
Summary: Lestrade and Hopkins are chasing after a suspected killer.

Lestrade and Hopkins hurtled through the park.

“Excuse me, madam!” yelled Lestrade as he ran through the middle of a picnic ruining the cucumber sandwiches. “Vital police business!”

He looked back at Hopkins, who was apparently slowing down to apologise properly.

“Come on, man!”

Hopkins gave the lady and her family one last embarrassed smile and continued on. Lestrade rolled his eyes and scanned the trees in front of him. There! He saw the newly identified killer Obadiah Wandsworth looking back at him.

Wandsworth grimaced and sprinted away.

Lestrade picked up the pace and followed him. Wandsworth was apparently heading towards the rose garden. The man came to the waist-high wall surrounding it, hesitated and ran round to find the gate. Lestrade had no such qualms, swinging himself up and over and keeping going. He glanced quickly behind to see Hopkins doing the same.

“I think we’ve got him,” Lestrade shouted.

Hopkins nodded. There was only one way in and out of the rose garden. The two detectives slowed, and Hopkins indicated he would go to the right. Lestrade took the remaining path to the left.

He swiftly found Wandsworth amongst the tea roses.

“Come quietly now,” said Lestrade, approaching him slowly. “You cannot escape.”

Wandsworth gave a desperate laugh. “You fool! I am going to hang for what I did! Do you really think I will just give in?”

He pulled out a pistol.

“Stand aside and let me through! Or I will simply shoot you.”

“I think not!”

Lestrade turned to see Hopkins with his own pistol trained on Wandsworth. Wandsworth gave a cry of frustration and shot wildly, the bullet missing its target. Hopkins returned fire and caught Wandsworth on the arm, his gun falling to the ground.

Wandsworth groaned, clutched at his arm and ran.

Lestrade pulled out his pistol and hesitated for a moment. Then he tucked it away again and gave chase. Rapidly catching up, he leapt forward and tackled Wandsworth to the ground. But desperation seemed to give Wandsworth strength. He twisted round and with his good hand struck Lestrade across the jaw.

“None of that!” Lestrade grabbed both hands and held them behind Wandsworth’s back, as the man struggled to get free.

Hopkins arrived and between them they got their prisoner to his feet. Lestrade secured the prisoner’s hands in front with his handcuffs and blew on his whistle to call the nearest constables.

He looked around to see if they were on the way and was somewhat startled to notice two familiar faces nearby.

“Dr. Watson! Mr. Holmes!”

By now two constables had arrived, and Lestrade left Hopkins to explain the situation to them, while he hurried over to Holmes and Watson.

“I am pleased that you returned in time to see the arrest! Thank you for sending the telegram and alerting us as to who the true murderer was. It was most—”

Lestrade paused. Holmes and Watson were staring rather fixedly with silly grins on their faces.

“Mr. Holmes..?” Lestrade realised that Holmes was staring over his shoulder, and turned to see Hopkins approaching. He turned back. “Doctor..?”

Watson seemed to finally come to his senses.

“You were magnificent!”

Lestrade was taken aback. “Was I..?”

Watson nodded vigorously. “Absolutely magnificent! Both of you! Holmes thinks so too, don’t you, Holmes?”

Holmes continued to smile vaguely in the direction of Hopkins. Lestrade gave him a worried look and then returned his attention to Watson. “We were only doing our duty.”

“Nonsense! I was so impressed when you tackled the villain and overpowered him.” Watson sighed and gazed into the distance. “And when you vaulted so gracefully over the wall…” He came back to himself and leaned towards Lestrade, lowering his voice. “I was wondering… when you have finished work… might you perhaps care to come up and see my portraits of General Gordon and Henry Ward Beecher..?”

“Er. Well, yes, I suppose that would be…” said Lestrade.

But Watson was turning to Holmes. “Holmes? Why don’t you invite Hopkins to come and see your pictures of celebrated criminals?”

“What..?” said Holmes, gazing at the policeman in question, who had now reached them and was standing next to Lestrade.

“You know,” said Watson, raising his eyebrows. “The pictures. The ones in your bedroom.”

Holmes seemed to come to life. “Yes! Hopkins—would you like to come and see my bedroom?” He stopped and thought about that. “Or rather the pictures in my bedroom. I mean, you don’t have to come into my bedroom—I could bring them out. But you could come in. If you prefer.”

Holmes gave Watson a desperate look and Watson patted him on the arm.

Hopkins smiled in a bemused fashion at Holmes. “Thank you—I would like to see them. I have often thought they sounded fascinating.”

“Excellent!” beamed Watson. He looked between the two inspectors. “So we will expect you for supper a little later..?”

“Yes, indeed,” said Lestrade.

Watson smiled and nodded, and firmly taking Holmes’ arm, he and and his colleague left them.

Lestrade looked after them and sighed happily. “Come on,” he said to Hopkins.”Let’s transport Wandsworth to the Yard and get that paperwork done as quickly as possible.”

Hopkins was looking after Holmes and Watson too. “This invitation is a step in the right direction, is it not, Lestrade?” He looked thoughtful. “But do you think our high regard and… warm feelings for Mr. Holmes and the Doctor will ever be returned..?”

Lestrade glanced over at Hopkins and raised his eyebrows high.

“Hopkins,” he said, “are you sure you’re cut out to be a detective?”