The Headmasters Office
Holy shit I'm sorry! It's been ages since I've updated and I hadn't meant to leave you guys without a story for so long!
Sylvia Holmes rolled her eyes as the headmaster went into another rant about violence and how deducing people was wrong for the 5th time. It was getting incredibly boring now.
"In my defence, he tried to hit me first," she argued back without much enthusiasm, her feet up on the headmasters desk. "I was just being honest about telling him about his parents affair, he was going to find out eventually."
The headmaster scowled, pushing the teenagers feet off the desk, causing Sylvia to let out a moan of protest in return. "This has gone too far, Sylvia! Just because your father is a famous detective does not give you the right to deduce anyone you see fit!-"
"Yes it does," she hummed, cutting him off and causing him to growl once more.
"Sylvia Holmes, I'm calling your parents!"
"You phone them a lot, do you have a thing for my mum?" she teased before looking him up it down, smirking. "Do you have a thing for my dad?"
"Sylvia!" he shouted, pounding his fist on his desk, causing her to jump at the noise on impact.
"Whoa, old man, calm down. Who's the one who needs to listen to your rants about violence now, huh?" Sylvia muttered, rolling her eyes once more, fed up of the balding man.
The headmaster growled and picked the phone, beginning to dial the number he called much too often. The Holmes residence.
"Molly can't be here, she's looking after Will," Sherlock muttered as he sat down, giving Sylvia his best stern look. Molly had told him he should stop praising their daughter when she got in trouble but it was difficult task.
"Is he sick? Poor him. I thought he was looking a bit pale this morning," Sylvia said with a small frown, feeling sympathetic for her younger brother.
Before Sherlock could reply the headmaster cleared his throat, rolling his eyes at their behaving. Great, it was just the obnoxious detective and not his wife.
"We're here to talk about your daughters violent tendencies, not about your personal life," he told them, both of the Holmes' rolling their eyes.
"Wait, violent tendencies?!" Sherlock frowned as he looked over at Sylvia, not liking the thought that his daughter had started hitting people. "What did you do!?"
"Chill, dad," she muttered, raising her hands. "It was just self defence, he would've punched me if I hadn't avoided his fist first. He had a pretty bad aim."
Sherlock calmed down at that. "Okay then that's fine.. He tried to hit you so you hit him back," he shrugged, looking towards the headmaster. "Why'd you call me down here for that?"
"She also," the man started again, "Deduced that boy which I thought we'd discussed.."
Sherlock payed no attention after he said deduced, grinning over at Sylvia. "Oh! What did you say? What did you deduce?" he asked her, leaning forward in curiosity.
Sylvia smiled proudly. "I was able to tell him that his father was cheating onhis mother with their cleaning lady," she hummed before leaning in with a smirk, "and his mother is doing the exact same."
"Sylvia! Mr. Holmes! Please take this seriously!" The headmaster growled, standing from where he was sat.
"I'm taking this very seriously, my daughter just deduced a boy's parents affair, it's a very impressive achievement," Sherlock hummed casually, looking up at the man and propping his own feet up on the desk.
"Sir, are you okay? You look a little red," Sylvia muttered, pretending to look concerned.
The headmaster was fuming. "That's it! Get out! Both of you!" he shouted, pointing at the door. The two Holmes' got up from the chairs, Sherlock brushing himself down as he did so, and went to walk out.
"Detention at the usual time, Sir?" the teenage girl piped up, popping her head back into the room.
The headmaster only glared.
"I'll take that as a yes," she mused before finally leaving, the headmaster collapsing back into his chair.
That girl was going to be the death of him.