Author's Note- So Sherlock has a daughter. Yep. This is probably going to spark tons of oneshots and chapter fics revolving around this particular universe.

Elizabeth Holmes is fifteen years old. I probably won't go very far into her background, but Sherlock has always been in her life. She has always lived with him. She sometimes goes on cases with him and John. She's kind of a cool, cute presence I wanted to try out.

Hope you like her too.

"Bye, Dad. Bye, John. I'm going out!" Elizabeth skipped down the stairs and headed for the second flight that would take her to the door.

"Wait." Sherlock ordered, glancing at his teenage daughter. "What are you wearing?" He sat up straighter on the sofa, where he had been exploring his mind palace to fight off boredom.

Elizabeth looked down at herself. She had bought a new blue dress especially for this occasion. Was there something wrong with it? She had tried to find a dress with an appropriate length and cut.

"Is that a dress?" John asked. He had flipped down his newspaper at Sherlock's question and was now staring at Elizabeth. "And mascara?"

"Yes..." Elizabeth began to inch towards the stairs, wanting nothing more than to dart down them.

"Why are you wearing that just to go out?" Sherlock furrowed his brow, as if seeing his daughter in a dress was like witnessing an alien abduction.

"Oh my God," John remarked, beaming. "Elizabeth, that is so adorable!"

Elizabeth could feel her face heating up against her will. This was so embarrassing. She had so hoped to just be able to slip out without them stopping her. No such luck now.

"What? What's adorable?" Sherlock looked between them perplexed.

"Sherlock Holmes, your daughter is going on a date." John explained, chuckling all the while.

Sherlock froze for a moment and then snapped, "No."

Elizabeth forgot her embarrassment. "What? Why not?" She was fifteen for God's sake, she wasn't a child! She could take care of herself perfectly well, thank you very much.

"Because I have never met this boy, I don't know where you're going, you are too young to have boyfriends, and... I don't know, you just can't go!" Sherlock snarled. He looked almost murderous, like he would mutilate any young man who ever entered his flat.

"Those are horrid reasons!" Elizabeth argued, knowing perfectly well that they were very good ones.

"Sherlock, come on." John leapt to her aid. "She's not a child anymore. You knew this was coming."

"She's too young."

"Dad, there isn't an age for love." Elizabeth put in.

"Love? Love?" Sherlock shot to his feet and began to pace angrily. "At your age, what can you possibly know about love?"

"I know that I want a man to love me someday, and I want to love him too. But love is built overtime, not overnight. I won't know if I love someone without getting to know him better first. It could take years to strengthen that kind of relationship. Why not start now?"

Sherlock still looked unconvinced. John, on the other hand, stared at her like she'd just quoted the 'to be or not to be' monologue complete with real, bitter tears.

"Sherlock, let her go. Drop her off if you need to, meet the boy, make your deductions, but let her go on her date." John and Sherlock exchanged a long look, which ended in a sigh from the consulting detective.

"Fine," Sherlock grumbled. He walked up to Elizabeth and waited until she looked him in the eye. "But if he does anything... If he even tries... If he dares to..." Elizabeth just stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her father's waist. Sherlock put his arms around her shoulders, squeezing protectively.

So many silent words passed between them during that embrace.

You know I love you, I just don't want you to get hurt. Boys are terrible, perverted creatures.

Thank you, I love you too. But I am going to be fine.

Promise me you'll try to stop growing up so fast.

Never.