"Jim, you've got a tail."
Jim Moriarty glanced at his companion and friend, Sebastian Moran. "Oh, do I now? How delightful."
Sebastian handed him his drink, then paid the waitress. "She's quite cute." They were sitting at a cafe in London.
"The waitress?" Jim looked at Sebastian dubiously. "She's fifty-three years old and recently went through a nasty divorce in which she got the dog but gave up the four-year old son."
The waitress, leaving, froze and then walked off at an alarming rate.
Sebastian grinned. "Your tail, silly. She's cute."
"Is she." Jim sipped his soda. "Irrelevant to me. You should know that, Sebbie." He made a snarling noise and pawed the air in Sebastian's direction.
Sebastian winked at him. "Oh, I do. But you really should take a look at this girl."
"Oh, alright. Which one is she?" Jim casually looked around.
"3 o'clock. Red jumper. Brunette." Sebastian motioned his head toward her.
Jim dropped his napkin and leant down to pick it up. When he straightened, he laughed. "Sebbie, she's six."
"Six and a half, I'd say." Sebastian took a bite of his chips. "Watch. Grab your stuff and let's go."
Jim picked up his drink and left a tip on the table. He and Sebastian stood up, leaving the cafe.
They stopped at a local art gallery. Stepping in, they pretended to admire the sculptures. Sebastian nudged Jim.
"See? Over there, talking to the janitor." Jim swept the room with his eyes, spotting the little girl. "Oh, you're right."
"Wonder what she wants?" Sebastian said, examining the gallery's brochure.
Jim looked over his shoulder. "Isn't it obvious?"
Sebastian looked at him. "Jimmy, we're not all freakish geniuses like you."
Jim's eyes glinted. "No… but she is."
***
The little girl had been constantly moving about the room for an hour while Sebastian and Jim looked at the exhibits. At one point, she left into the next room, then returned less than two minutes later wearing a jean skirt and green top. Her jumper was gone.
Jim whistled. "She's good."
"How can you tell she's a genius?" His companion asked.
"Her eyes." Jim responded. "They look… disgusted. With everyone. She's only six, so if she is a genius like me, then she will be exasperated with everyone. Normally, children like her look up to anyone older than themselves. But she knows that she's smarter than them and so she can't understand why they treat her like a child. I did the same at that age."
Sebastian placed a hand on Jim's shoulder. "What do you think she wants?"
Jim looked at Sebastian, amusement in his eyes. "No idea."
"Let's ask her." Sebastian suggested. Jim nodded. "Yes, let's."
He turned around and waved a hand. "Violet? Violet, come over here. You shouldn't wander so far!"
The little girl wrenched her head up to stare at him. When she saw that Jim was calling to her, she flushed and made her way over to the men.
"Sorry, Daddy." She said, looking down. "The sculptures were so interesting."
Jim patted her head. "I know, sweetie, but now it's time to go. It seems you've misplaced your jumper, so you're lucky it's warm out today."
The little girl made no fuss as Jim grabbed her hand and the three of them left the exhibit. When they had gone aways, Jim asked, "Do you know who I am?"
The little girl nodded. "You're Jim Moriarty."
"And do you know what I am?"
The girl scrunched up her face. "A conshulted- a comsultig, um, a consulting crimimal."
"Consulting criminal, darling, enunciate your words." Jim corrected her. "That's right. I'm a very bad man. I kill people."
"I know, sir." The girl did not let go of Jim's hand. Sebastian looked on curiously as the two talked. Such a young child couldn't possibly be a showing genius.
Jim grinned at her. "You know? Well then, please tell me why you chose to follow me for the better part of, what would you say, Sebbie?"
"I'd say three hours, Jim. That's when I first saw her." Sebastian answered.
"Three hours. Why?" Jim lead them over to the side of the sidewalk and knelt down to the girl's level. "Why follow the most dangerous man on earth?"
The girl looked at him. "Because I want a daddy. And I like you."
Jim looked at Sebastian. Sebastian shrugged, lost for words. Jim turned back to the girl. "A daddy?"
"Mm-hmm." The girl nodded again. "I was in the orfamage, but I didnt like it there. So I hacked the data-, um, the data…"
"Database?" Jim prompted.
"Database." The girl repeated. "And I erased my name, so really, I'm not even there. I don't have a birth certifa- cer-ti-fi-cate or nothin'. I got rid of it all." She pronounced the word clearly, obviously struggling.
"How clever." Sebastian marveled. "Jim, she's brilliant!"
"Indeed." Jim smiled at the girl. "But if you don't exist, how can you be my daughter."
The girl rolled her eyes. "You make me a new cer-ti-fi-cate. I'll be your daughter and you'll be my daddy. And he can be my mummy." She pointed to Sebastian, who stuttered.
"Me? Mummy? Uh, no. No, I'm not mummy." He looked to Jim for help.
Jim, however, grinned. "What a lovely idea! Sebbie, you and I shall be Mummy and Daddy, and this will be our daughter!"
"Jim!" Sebastian glared. "You're not seriously considering-"
He was cut off by a pair of lips covering his. His words died in his throat when Jim nibbled his lip. Relaxing, he pushed the man away.
"We are in a public place." He protested half-heartedly. Jim just giggled. Sebastian looked at the child, who had covered her eyes with her hands. "Oi, you. You really want a mummy and daddy?"
She took her hands down. "Yes!"
Jim made puppydog eyes. "Can we keep her, please can we?"
Sebastian sighed. "Yes, we can keep her." Jim clapped his hands together excitedly.
"Yay! Okay, you'll be Violet Moriarty-Moran from now on."
"Why not Moran-Moriarty?" Sebastian argued.
"Moriarty-Moran has a better ring to it." Jim insisted. Sebastian shook his head. "Whatever. Come on, darling, and grab Violet, won't you?"
Jim scooped Violet up and set her on his shoulders. She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Mummy!"
"And don't call me Mummy!" Sebastian pleaded. "At least call me Father or Papa or something male."
"He's a grump." Jim whispered to Violet.
"I heard that, dear."
"You were supposed to, cupcake."
