Hello darlings. So I've had the urge to write up a Sherlock fic for a long time and I've finally gotten around to it. I hope you all like it.
Jacqueline Holmes hummed as she wiped the blood off of her hands. She frowned at the slightly red stain it left behind but didn't cluck her tongue in annoyance like she normally would. The blood was her fault for once. She'd been performing a bit of a public experiment to see how many people in a group of roughly ten could keep a level head during an emergency. She'd performed the experiment several times and so far the average amount of people who could keep their cool was between three and four.
"Are my notes safe? I tried not to get blood on them this time." Jacqueline asked the homeless man beside her. She'd been using him for the past week as her escape. It was his job to say he was taking her to the hospital around the corner and then get them both out of sight so they could escape before anyone could find out she was faking.
"Just a smidge of blood this time." The man said, handing her a paper towel. They were in a public bathroom not far from where she'd performed the experiment. Jacqueline took it and wiped her hands off quickly so she could take the notes in the man's hands.
Jacqueline placed the papers against the mirror above the sink and used the pencil she found in her jacket to scribble down her findings. Once she was done she stuffed her notes in her pocket and pulled out a wad of twenty dollar bills. "Thank you for your help, I won't be needing it again for a while." She said as she handed over the cash. The man nodded and, without another word, left the bathroom. Jacqueline waited till the door was closed again before pulling out her cell. She dialed up her dad's number and pressed send.
Sherlock had just finished sending his last text message to Lestrade when his phone rang. He glanced briefly at the caller I.D before answering it. "How did it go?" Sherlock asked as he searched for the telly remote. He always opted to skip the normal way of greeting when it was his daughter calling. He knew she didn't like to delay the conversation with pleasantries.
"Oh it went great. I'm actually finished with it now, just need to make up a brief chart and store the information about the average crowd in that area in my Mind Palace." Jacqueline said cheerfully. Sherlock could practically hear the smile on her face. "How did Lestrade's press conference go?" She asked curiously.
Sherlock smirked as he pushed aside a few papers. "Rather well actually though there were a few interruptions. He should learn not to say ignorant statements on live television." He said, a bit smugly. Jacqueline laughed on the other end. He heard her open a door on her end, a door that lead her into what was probably a coffee shop if the noise volume in the background was anything to go on. "Where's the remote?" Sherlock asked his daughter.
Once again, Sherlock thought he could hear her smile. "Check beside Billy. You like to leave things you'll need within the hour by him." Jacqueline answered, always one to know exactly where everything was in whatever place they were living. She kept a mental image, almost like a holograph, tucked inside an empty picture frame inside her Mind Palace. She could access it with the most ease out of everything she kept in her head.
"I don't do that." Sherlock said with a frown though he knew she was right. He just wanted to hear her explain. It was a pastime of Sherlock's, getting his daughter to deduce for him. It had been a game when she was a child and was still somewhat of a game now though she took it much more seriously at her age. Sherlock knew most fifteen year old girls were concerned with boys and their social lives but not his Jacqueline. She was much more interested in her intelligence and her future career as the world's second consulting detective.
"Yes you do." Jacqueline said, chuckling slightly. She paused for a moment and Sherlock could hear her ordering a pastry from the shop keeper. "Second only to me, Billy is the one you like to chat with the most. You find his ability to listen amiable which is why you put small important matters, like your nicotine patches and your phone, by him. Of course, once again I must remind you that Billy is a skull with no functioning hearing system and if you need to talk things out I have perfectly willing ears." A small curse punctuated her small speech. Sherlock heard the rustlings of paper and the slight cling of change. She must have dropped her money or pulled her notes out of her pocket as she was getting out the cash. "Bugger. I hope the cashier didn't notice the blood." Jacqueline said after a minute or two.
"Couldn't keep it off your notes?" Sherlock asked as he walked towards the door. He had long since found the remote (by Billy like Jacqueline had said) and had turned off the telly. Now he was making his way out the door, swiping up his riding crop as he did.
Jacqueline huffed in what was most definitely annoyance. "No, one of the more panicky types jostled me. I acted appropriately hurt when he did but I might have let a bit of my anger show. There's a few letters blotched now and you know how I hate that." She said, rambling slightly in her desire to complain.
Sherlock had to stop himself from chuckling but was very glad that his daughter was not around so that he could smirk. "Yes, I know. I'll be sure to bring one of your notebooks so you can rewrite it." He said as he pushed his feet into his shoes without looking. He grabbed his coat and scarf as he moved out the door. He instantly turned to the stairs leading up to the two other bedrooms and started up them.
"Grab the checkered one if you can find it. I think I unpacked it already but I'm not sure. It's got all of my previous notes on this experiment in it." Jacqueline told him, a slight pleading tone to her voice. As if she was begging him to grab the checkered one. Sherlock rolled his eyes, he'd kept track of which of her notebooks were for what and had already planned on grabbing that one.
Sherlock opened the door to his daughter's room and frowned. "You've hardly unpacked." He said, eyeing the many boxes in the room. Most of them were hidden though by the grand piano that sat dead center in the middle of the room. It was the smallest grand piano they could find but it still took up a lot of the generously large room. "And there are boxes on your piano." Sherlock commented disapprovingly as he made his way to the bed in the farthest corner from the door.
"Only for the moment." Jacqueline said. Sherlock's cheek twitched ever so slightly, something that had been happening ever since he had learned to sense his daughter rolling her eyes at him.
"Jacqueline Holmes if you roll your eyes like a snobbish teenage girl again I will take away your experimenting rights for a week." Sherlock said. He'd reached her bed now and was looking down at her large collection of notebooks. Her checkered one was, not surprisingly, on her pillow.
Jacqueline huffed on the other end but Sherlock could sense her smiling again. "I hate when you do that." She said. There was the sound of chewing, she'd finally gotten her pastry.
Sherlock smirked a little as he made his way back downstairs, the notebook tucked beneath his arm along with his things. "No you don't." He said knowingly.
Quiet laughter. "No I don't." Jacqueline said agreeingly. Sherlock smiled. "So where are we meeting? You said you'll bring my notebook which obviously means I'm to meet you somewhere." The younger Holmes asked with interest.
"Outside Saint Bart's. Walk there if possible." Sherlock told her. He didn't give her a reason as to why she should walk, Jacqueline already knew. They were a bit tight on cash at the moment even with Missus Hudson cutting them a deal and they couldn't afford to unnecessarily spend money. More than likely the only reason Jacqueline had bought a pastry was because she hadn't eaten in the past three or four days.
"Be there in fifteen minutes. Don't be late." Jacqueline said cheerfully. With that she hung up, leaving her dad smirking as he walked down the stairs. She had given him a challenge. Get to Bart's in fifteen minutes during the morning rush. Sherlock smiled, he'd be sure to tease her for giving him so much time to work with.