Elizabeth was sitting in the living room reading when she smelled the smoke. She glanced to the kitchen, where the smell seemed to be coming from.
Orange flames were blazing across the kitchen table. Black smoke clouded the ceiling. It had begun to billow out into the living room.
"Dad!" Elizabeth screamed, running for the fire extinguisher in the living room. But when she picked it up, she knew it was useless. It was empty. The second fire extinguisher was in the kitchen. It was in a cabinet under the sink.
The cabinet that the fire was trying its hardest to get to.
Elizabeth dropped to her knees and crawled into the kitchen. She began to make her way to the cabinet, staying as low as possible to avoid the smoke. She did her best, but she was coughing by the time she reached the cabinet.
She was just about to open the cabinet when strong hands yanked her back out into the living room. She lay on the carpet, trying desperately to drink in the cleaner air. She watched as Sherlock wrenched the cabinet open and produced the fire extinguisher. He quickly put out the fire, and then opened all of the windows in the living room and kitchen.
"What was it?" Elizabeth asked as soon as she could manage the words.
"Petrol experiment." Sherlock scowled at the burnt table. "John is not going to be pleased."
"I should say not." Elizabeth glanced at the smoke alarm positioned on the kitchen ceiling. It had been charred by the smoke. "Why didn't the alarm go off?"
"It wouldn't shut up, so I took the batteries out."
Elizabeth glared at her father. "We have it for a reason." She gestured to the crispy table, which chose that moment to spinter and collapse. "Just be glad I was downstairs. I don't want to know what would have happened if I hadn't smelled the smoke."
"What do I do about the table?" Sherlock examined its ashy remains ruefully.
"Didn't you say Mycroft owes you a favor?"