Authors note: okay, so the prologue kinda sucks, but I promise the rest will be much better! I've always loved the idea of Sherlock having a lost daughter. Tell me if you like it or tell me if it sucks, and that will help me decide to keep updating or not. PLEASE review X3
Thanks~
…...
Lestrade hadn't gotten a call from his niece in months, despite how close they were, so when Malinda suddenly called the DI up begging for his help, he was quiet surprised. And it wasn't because the call was so sudden. No, it was because she sounded so flustered. Malinda was a nurse at the London Orphanage, and she was always the calm and collected sort. She never panicked, especially when it was about the kids at the shelter. There was one other thing about this particular call that bothered the detective: she had asked about Sherlock Holmes, whom she had only met once. And very briefly, at that.
"Uncle Greg, you...um..remember that consultant guy you introduced me to last year at the Christmas party? Sh-...uh...Sher- something?" Malinda stuttered. "Yeah? Well, uh, there's a new girl at the shelter. I'm just not sure what to do. Could you please drop by sometime soon and check her out, please? You're the smartest person I know and this is just...abnormal. You can? That's great! Thank you so much. I didn't have anyone else to turn to. Yeah? Yes. Thank you. Love you, Uncle Greg. Bye."
Lestrade hung up worried, puzzled, and excited all at the same time. He'd never met a child his niece couldn't handle. No, she spoke as if this child had two heads or a fish tail. If it got Malinda worked up, it was big. And thinking this way made him feel a bit too much like the neighborhoods own Consulting Detective for him to be comfortable.
Due to a particularly transparent case in which a woman had shot her husband and child to death before taking her own life, a case so simple even Anderson was able to figure it out quickly enough, the Inspector was not able to visit the children shelter until the following weekend. It was only a twenty minute drive from his home to the orphanage, and when he got there he was greeted by a tired and shaky looking Malinda. The young woman's face brightened with a broad smile at the sight of her favorite (and only) uncle. Her hair was unkempt and there were shadows under her eyes. Whoever this child was, Lestrade thought, they were amazingly horrible.
"Oh, thank God, Uncle Greg. You're here!" the nurse exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.
Lestrade pushed her back and held her away by the shoulders so he could take a good look at her. "My God...did the new kid do this to you? What? Is she evil incarnate?" he mused in awe.
Malinda nodded but then swayed her hand back and forth. "Well, technically she is the cause of this-" she said, gesturing to her appearance, "but not directly. She isn't really a problem on her own. It's the other kids' reactions to her that does it." she explained.
Seeing the confusion plain on Lestrade's face, she took him by the hand and started to lead him inside. "I'll show you what I mean." she told him. She lead him through the noisy shelter, full of the sounds of laughter, crying, yelling, and singing.
A small red-headed child slammed into Malinda with tears in his eyes and sobbed, "Nurse! Armelia took my band-aid off and my scrape is still bleeding, and she wont give it back!" Malinda groaned and pat the child on his head, assuring him that she would get him a new band-aid soon. "So Nickie punched her." he added before darting away.
"Wha-? No hitting!" she yelled after him, shaking her head in disapproval.
When they reached a door with the name Armelia painted on it in swirly purple script, Malinda paused and took a deep breath before knocking lightly.
"One moment!" a musical little voice quickly blurted from behind the door. A moment later, a lithe little girl with coal black curls that bounced around her waist and striking green eyes burst out of the room and swiftly slammed the door behind her.
Malinda was looking at the child in horror, much to Lestrade's surprise, and with good reason. The child was wearing an apron over her plain little black dress and it was covered in strange purple stains, and on her hands were latex gloves, wet with most likely the same purple liquid that was on the apron. And on her right cheek was a little bruise.
"Armelia, what in god's name have you been doing in there this time?" the usually docile nurse blurted.
Instead of answering, the child simply sneered at her and turned her cold green eyes on the detective. They darted all over, inspecting the inspector, and finally settled on his left hand. Slowly, she pulled the glove off of her right hand and extended it to him.
"Nice to meet you Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade. My name is Armelia. I would be the troublesome child that the nurse has called you over for." she said flatly, as if she was bored.
Amazed, Lestrade shook her tiny hand, but paused when he saw something like a big band-aid stuck to her arm. When he realized what it was, his mouth hung agape and his eyes became impossibly wide.
"Are those nicotine patches?" he asked her disbelieving. Armelia nodded as if it was completely normal.
"They help me focus." she explained with a nonchalant shrug. "I was measuring the liquid extract from a deadly nightshade flower, so I had to be very precise so that the solution didn't turn lethal."
Malinda gasped and pressed her head into her hands. "Armelia! I've told you over and over again that you can't keep poisonous things in the shelter! It's a danger to the other kids." she cried exasperatedly.
"And that is exactly why I have my own room. It's perfectly safe. Now can you get on with what you brought him here for so I can get back to my own business?" Armelia snapped back defiantly, crossing her pale, thin arms across her chest.
Malinda threw her hands up in defeat and shook her head mournfully. "You're right. Let's get this over with. Uncle Greg, I was wondering-"
"She thinks that there is a possibility that you are acquainted with my father." Armelia interrupted quickly.
Malinda twitched with irritation, but nodded confirmation. "There is no record of Armelia's father, and a DNA is not avaiable for a case such as this. But she has a remarkably similar appearance and personality to that Sherlock Holmes man, so I just thought it was a possibility and was hoping you could help me check it." she explained. "Of course, it could just be a coincidence. Maybe I shouldn't have asked." she added in a rush.
At first the idea seemed ridiculous to Lestrade, but after he thought about if for a second it started to seem a bit more possible. Even after knowing him for five years, Lestrade knew next to nothing about Sherlock's past, and the child was incredibly similar to the Consulting Detective. Plus, even if she wasn't his kid, the inspector was sure that Sherlock would find this little girl too interesting to completely ignore. It was worth a shot.
"It's possible." he admitted, noticing Armelia's eyes light up a little despite how she kept her expression stoic and bored. " I can call him up if you'd like." he offered.
"Yes!" the orphan girl and nurse exclaimed together. Armelia glared at Malinda in annoyance, and Malinda stared at Armelia in surprise. She had probably never seen the cold little girl so enthusiastic about anything before. The truth was that Armelia hated the shelter, and wanted out no matter what it took, but running away would cause serious inconveniences to her. Plus, while she had loved her mother, it was obvious that she must have gotten her intellect from her father. The prospect of meeting him was exciting, no matter how unlikely it was.
"How old are you, Armelia?" the detective asked. For her to be Holmes's daughter, she couldn't be any older than 13.
"I am eleven years old." she answered. Although it shocked Lestrade to no end that an eleven year old girl was mixing poisonous herbal solutions in her room, her age fit. It meant that Sherlock would have had to have been eighteen years old when Armelia was concieved.
"And how old was you mother?" he pressed.
"She was thirty-six," she sighed, "and she died five months ago in a car accident while coming to pick me up from school."
No tears burned in her eyes and she didn't flinch in painful grief. She was as ice cold as her chilling eyes, and as unfeeling as the great Sherlock Holmes. But in truth, her heart did ache a little at the ever present abssence of the only person that had ever been by her side.
Lestrade knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and sighed deeply, trying to hide his grin.
"Alright." he decided and pulled out his mobile phone. He dialed a number and pressed it to his ear. When someone finally answered he smiled and stuck his free hand into his pocket.
"John! Tell Sherlock that I have a different kind of case for him this time, would you? Come to the London Children Shelter tomorrow at noon, and be prepared for a bit of a shock. Alright, thanks. Goodbye." he spoke to the person on the other end of the phone. When he hung up and pushed his phone back into his coat pocket, he turned to the two girls, both watching him expectantly, and grinned widely.
"Ladies, tomorrow be prepared to meet Sherlock Holmes, the worlds only Consulting Detective, and Dr. John Watson, the only man in the world that can handle him." he said with amusement. Inside, he wished Armelia luck.