A/N: I've always been interested in giving detectives children for some reason. I do the same thing with L from Death Note. Giving Sherlock a daughter is how this little plot bunny popped up in my head. I hope you all like it. Reviews are always appreciated! :D

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. I'm pretty sure that's obvious.


Runaways

knock knock knock.

"Mmm…"

knock knock knock knock knock.

Emily Watson scrunched up her nose before turning over on the couch, nuzzling her head into the crevice between her pillow and the cushion.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

In an instant, she was sitting up, her bright green eyes wide like saucers and her dirty blonde hair thoroughly disheveled atop her tiny head. She blinked, trying to work out where she was. It quickly became clear to her. She'd decided to sleep in the living room that night, considering her parents had gone out for a date night and she didn't feel comfortable unless she was sleeping near the door. Her babysitter, Sandra, was sleeping in her parents' bedroom with the door shut. It was unlikely she'd heard the insufferable knocking that had so rudely awoken the nine-year-old herself.

BANG BANG BANG.

Emmy nearly jumped ten feet as the clicks that had awoken her suddenly turned into heavy pounds. She rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes as she swung her feet over to meet the carpet, standing up and approaching the door. She wasn't quite tall enough to reach the peep hole, so instead she leaned closer to the crack of the door. "Who is it?" She asked, her voice a bit hoarse from sleeping.

"It's Lucia. Open up!"

Emmy was wide awake now. She raised an eyebrow. "It's the middle of the night, what are you doing here?"

"Let me in! It's important!"

Emmy wanted nothing more than to crawl back onto the couch and ignore her best friend until she gave up and went home. But the urgent tone in Lucia's voice convinced her otherwise. Besides, a Holmes popping up in the middle of the night was usually important. "Hang on. I've gotta undo the locks."

It took a moment for Emmy to push a chair over to the door so she could reach the chain locks. An impatient "Hurry!" from Lucia got her to quickly undo the locks and push the chair away so she could open the door. She barely had time to open it all the way before Lucia pushed her way through, nearly slamming it behind her. Emmy gasped, terrified that the noise would wake up Sandra. "Shhhh!" She grabbed the other girl's arm to keep her quiet.

"Where's Uncle John?" Lucia pulled her arm away, blatantly ignoring Emmy as she started down the hall. Emmy panicked, grabbing her once again.

"Don't go down there!"

"Why not? I need to talk to John!"

"He's not here, Lucy!"

Lucia froze in place, her eyes going wide. She shook away from Emmy's grip once again, turning to face her. "Where is he?"

"Out on a ferry cruise with Mummy. They left me with Sandra." Emmy tried to determine the look on Lucia's face. It was some cross between terror and contemplation. Almost as if she was trying to re-route her course of action. In fact, that's exactly what the eight-year-old was doing. Her instructions from her father had been simple. Get out of sight, catch a cab, head straight for the Watsons' flat, and leave with them. John and Mary not being here was a big issue. If Lucia couldn't get the apartment empty now, everyone in it could be in danger, especially Emmy. There was only one option. She and Emmy had to leave. Immediately. Now she just had to do a bit of convincing.

"We have to go."

Emmy was taken aback. "What? Where?"

The truth was, Lucia didn't know. Her father had explicitly told her that John would know where to go, and to simply follow him once she got to the flat. She would just have to do what she does best. Run in the best direction possible. "Away from here."

"Why? Lucy, what's going on?"

"I don't know. But we can't stay here. Father says so."

"Why does he say that?"

"Somebody broke into the flat."


Earlier That Evening

Being an only child with a highly functioning sociopath as a parent, Lucia found herself staying up late most nights without any objection. She liked to stay in the kitchen and scroll through the web well into the morning while her father mumbled to himself in the other room, trying to connect point A to point B with each case he took. There were times when she would try to listen in, but whatever she would pick up wouldn't make much sense out of context. Sometimes he would join her simply to use his microscope or to perform one of his many kitchen experiments. Tonight was one of those nights.

"How long are we going to keep Mr. Truffles in the freezer?" Lucia asked as she pushed her dead cat aside to find some sort of edible treat. She was sure Mrs. Hudson had stocked the fridge with some popsicles a while back. They had to be somewhere among the… Everything else they'd shoved in there.

"Until his limbs begin to stiffen." Sherlock explained. "Do me a favor; don't leave that open for too long. It'll interfere with my data."

Luckily, Lucia was able to find the popsicles and shut the freezer before she let too much of the cold out. "Are we going to put every pet that dies in the freezer?"

"Depends on if we get another, which is unlikely considering what he did to my chair."

"I'd rather bury him."

"Now, where would we do that?"

"The cemetery, of course."

"The cemetery isn't meant for dead cats."

"Can we cremate him?"

"We'll see."

THUD.

Lucia gasped, freezing in place. Sherlock looked up from his microscope, putting his hand up so the girl would remain silent.

The quiet seemed to last for ages. Lucia opened her mouth to break it, but her father quickly shushed her. After a moment, the creaking begun.

Someone was coming up the stairs.

No, not someone. Someones.

It took a total of 1.6 seconds for Sherlock Holmes to react. He sprung up from his chair without making a sound. He then grabbed his coat from the countertop and slipped his own phone in the pocket, signaling for Lucia to come closer. She obeyed. He began to speak softly, but quickly, close to her ear as he slipped her arms through the sleeves of the coat.

"When I say so, you are to run for the bedroom. First check to make sure the window is open, if it is you lock the door. If the window isn't open, hide. Do not lock the door before you check the window, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. After you've locked the door you are to run. Don't bother barricading it. Get as far away as you can, out of sight; make sure they've given up following you if they happen to make it that far. Lose them in a public place, anything you can think of. Once you've done that, find a cab and go straight to the Watsons' flat. Tell them they need to leave. John will know where to go. Stay with them from then on." Once he finished buttoning her up, he grabbed his old plaid hat from the counter, fitting it on top of her head. "Got it?"

Lucia nodded.

"Good girl. Now go."


Emmy had her hands buried deep in her father's coat pockets. Lucia had made her bundle up in anything that was closest. She'd only been able to grab his coat along with her mother's black beanie. Other than that, she had been forced to leave the flat empty-handed, save for a few snacks which she stuffed in the pockets. Beside her, Lucia was tapping her foot, waiting for the elevator to reach the bottom floor.

"So you don't know who it was?" Emmy asked.

Lucia shook her head. "No, but I did hear a few things before I got out the window."

"Like what?"

"They had guns." Lucia dropped her head. "They were telling him to put his hands behind his head and tell them where something was. They didn't say what they were looking for, they just said, 'Where is it?' a few times, like he knew what they were talking about. He didn't say anything. They started to search the flat as I got out the window. I think they were looking for me."

Emmy took a second to process the information. "What do they want with you?"

"Nothing. They just wanted leverage, that's all." The elevator slowed to a stop. With a light ping, the doors opened, revealing a mostly empty lobby. The only figure in the room was the man at the desk, who was dozing softly in his chair. The two girls stepped out of the elevator and scurried over to the door, stepping out into the cool air. Emmy shivered, burrowing her face deeper into her coat. Lucia popped up her collar, pulling her hat tighter on her head.

"But where do we go, Lucy?" Emmy walked closely behind the younger girl, still trying to stay warm.

"We have to find John and Mary before they get home. Do you know where their ferry docks?"

"No, but there can't be very many ferry docks in London, can there?"

"We'll have to-"

Lucia stopped in her tracks, causing Emmy to bump into her. Emmy was about to object when suddenly she noticed what her friend was looking at. A car. A black car, turning a corner down the street. Lucia recognized it. She'd seen the license plate just outside 221B Baker Street no more than an hour ago, when she'd fled.

"Quick, this way!" The next thing Emmy knew, she was being pulled in the opposite direction, then down an alley behind her own building. Both girls were pressed up against the wall. Emmy didn't have to ask why they were hiding. She had a pretty good idea based on Lucia's expression. It was the very same look she had the moment Emmy had opened the door.

Lucia pulled the front of her hat further down in front of her face before peeking out from behind the wall to see what was happening. The car pulled up along the sidewalk directly in front of the lobby doors. Every single door opened all at once. There were four men, all dressed in black, not that this was much of a surprise to Lucia. What did surprise her was who came out of the car after them. It was Sherlock. Her own father. One of them moved closely behind him, obviously threatening him with something. A gun, if anything. Lucia watched as they lead him inside the building and out of sight.

Lucia took a moment to breathe. They had her father captive. Fantastic. If she and Emmy couldn't find John soon, they'd be alone. Lucia had always been clever for her age. She could probably devise some kind of plan if she had to. But for a situation like this, she wasn't even remotely prepared. There was no way she could do this alone. She was too scared.

"Lucy? What happened?" Emmy grabbed her best friend's shoulders, snapping her out of her trance. She noticed the look of fear crossing her gaze. But she quickly shut it off once she'd snapped out of it.

"They had my father." She said simply. "All the more reason to find Uncle John as soon as possible. We should go now."

It wasn't until they left the alley everything went wrong again. This time it was Emmy who stopped in her tracks.

"Um, Lucy?"

"What?"

Emmy pointed through the glass door to the lobby, directly at one of the elevators. It was closing. Inside were her parents, John and Mary Watson. The doors were shut before either girl could move a muscle.

For a while, they just stood there, realizing they were far too late to do anything else. Going inside to get them meant taking the stairs, and there was no way they'd make it in time. If they did the chances of the bad guys seeing and catching them were far too high. So for now, they did nothing. Emmy looked to Lucia for the answers. In Emmy's experience, Lucia always had the answers. She hoped she had one this time.

Sooner or later she realized that wasn't the case. Not this time.

This time, it was Emmy's turn to come up with an answer.

"Let's go."

Lucia looked up at her, puzzled. "Huh?"

"We need to leave, Lucy." Emmy held out her hand. "Come on."

"But-"

"There's nothing we can do now, we have to go!"

Lucia stared at the elevator doors for a moment, unsure of what to do. Emmy was growing impatient.

"Oh, come on now!"

Not bothering to let her friend object, Emmy grabbed Lucia's hand and bolted off, dragging down the street as fast as possible. When the street ended, they turned left, leaving Emmy's home behind for good.

As she was forcefully pulled away from the scene by Emmy, Lucia began to realize she didn't feel so alone anymore.