Chapter two
Skylar didn't re-emerge from her room for another few hours, in that time she had done some sketching in her book before taking a nap. Waking up feeling refreshed she headed downstairs to find Sherlock and John still out. They had left not long after she had gone back upstairs, came back separately and gone out again. She rubbed at her eyes, grateful for the lack of make-up that would have smudged the moment her hand touched her eye if she had been wearing any.
The longue was just as cluttered as before, now with a pink suitcase open on a wooden chair that usually sat next to the desk. The curly haired girl ignored the suitcase in favour of settling down in the red chair which she already thought of as John's chair after only seeing him in it once. It was traditional and comfortable; all which she could imagine John being. She curled her legs underneath her body and set out the leather bound sketch pad on her knee, with the pencil balancing between her fingertips. The notepad was like her diary, she drew things in it that she wanted to remember or didn't want to remember but needed to. She opened to the page she had been working on before taking her nap, on which were rough sketches of Sherlock, John and Miss Hudson all stood in the longue.
The drawings were mostly lines with small amounts of shading and details being added. There was still a lot of work to be done on the drawing but it was a start. She put the pencil to the paper, ready to continue with her drawing when a loud knock at the front door disturbed her. Skylar clenched her eyes shut in annoyance and released a long sigh, shoulders dropping down into a slump.
The door opening was followed by Miss Hudson's protests and a group of people ascending the stairs. The door to the longue swung open with a little more force than necessary. Ahh, Greg was angry this time.
"Lestrade, I see you brought your underdogs with you this time." She opened her eyes and turned her head.
Greg approached her dad's empty armchair with long but slow steps, his team piling in after him. Greg was dressed in a reasonably priced black suit with a white shirt, no tie and the top button undone. The shirt had small almost invisible square patterns on it; which was tucked into the trousers with a black belt keeping them up. His tanned face had a sorry expression on it as he lowered himself down into the chair. His grey hair was slightly mussed but not excessively, brown eyes pleading with her to not be difficult. Anderson and Donovan went straight into the kitchen with another officer while another two remained in here to look over everything.
"I'm sorry about this Sky" Lestrade spoke finally. The five short words conveying his guilt enough to satisfy her, there was no way he wanted to do this or was enjoying it.
Skylar sat herself up in the chair, closing the sketch pad with the pencil between the pages. "I get it" she assured him. "Dad tends to go off and do his own thing, obviously this time he's been with-holding evidence" she gestured towards the pink case that was set between them. "And this is a drugs bust."
Anderson sniggered in the kitchen. She turned to see him looking over the kitchen table in disgust, the science equipment occupied the whole of the table's surface. It looked like an improvement on his usual facial expression, the slicked back black greasy hair and bent nose were just the topping on the ugly cake. Donovan was sneering at Anderson, looking as tired as ever.
"You do realise that we have only just moved in her, two days ago. The chances of anything remotely interesting being here is highly unlikely." She told him with a frown. It was convincing but Lestrade wasn't stupid, she was just a kid protecting her dad.
"But not impossible" Lestrade confirmed what they both already knew.
"Fine" she sighed loudly, pulling her legs out from beneath her and placing both feet on the floor. "But can you stay out of my room? I have only just finished decorating and organising things in there, I would hate for your sniffer dogs to mess things up. Plus how likely is it that a sixteen year old would have her father's stash, that's if he had a stash, I doubt he would be stupid enough to keep anything in the flat. For the record if I found anything it would be handed over to Mycroft before you could even say drug's bust."
Lestrade nodded. He was used to her by now, she was just like her father, demanding at the best of times. "Leave Sky's room alone. It's on the –"
"- top floor" she finished before him. "John's is the floor above but he has yet to move in, mine the floor above."
Greg's eyebrow practically jumped into an archway. He was biting back a smirk "So, this John Watson fellow is moving in? Your dad brought him to a crime scene earlier, seems like a nice enough guy, fascinated with Sherlock."
"Nothing has been decided as of yet" she admitted, resting the notebook on the small wooden table besides her. Lestrade followed her hand movements, his eyes clasped on her sketchbook which he had been allowed only once to look at. "John needs the danger my father can provide, I'm sure he'll be moved in by tomorrow morning."
"What are you doing?" Sherlock demanded, striding into the flat with John close behind. She noted the absence of his walking stick, so the limp had been cured already just by tagging along on one case with her dad, interesting. The consulting detective turned on the spot, stormy eyes settling on his daughter. "Are you alright?"
Skylar nodded as Greg huffed. "Of course she's alright. We knew you'd find the suitcase, I'm not stupid."
"You cannot just break into my flat" Sherlock looked pissed, eyes flickering between Greg and Skylar. "Especially not when Skylar is here alone, and no, Miss Hudson does not count." He added obviously reading Greg's thoughts, knowing he would bring up that the caring landlady was just downstairs.
"And you can't withhold evidence. I didn't break into your flat" Lestrade argued from where he was sat.
Sherlock gestured widely to the officers searching through his belongings. "Then what do you call this?"
Greg smirked and announced cheerily. "It's a drugs bust."
John who had remained silent for the conversation in favour of witnessing Sherlock's protective nature over his daughter, took a step further into the flat and snorted. "Seriously? This guy, a junkie? Have you met him?"
Skylar bit at her lip while Greg looked slightly uncomfortable as Sherlock twizzled on the spot to avoid Sky seeing his tight expression. "John" he said quietly, urging the army doctor to stop talking and listen to him.
"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational." John continued.
"John, you probably want to shut up now" the brunette hissed, holding John's gaze. Silence fell between them. Greg and Skylar exchanged a slightly confused look at the intense staring match that had continued and she had to fight the urge to sing 'can you feel the love tonight' as she watched them.
"No" John said in quiet disbelief.
"What?"
"You"
"Shut up!" Sherlock turned back to Lestrade, his face stern. "I'm not your sniffer dog."
"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." Greg announced triumphantly. And following the cue, Anderson pulled back the sliding door to the kitchen and gave a small waved of his latex glove covered hand.
Sherlock had been irritated before, but now with the mention of Anderson he was positively volcanic. Skylar knew it was most likely out of hatred for the man, because really the man is an idiot but her dad would be raging at the fact he was in the flat while she was there, unsupervised.
"Anderson" Sherlock spat. "What are you doing here on a drug's bust?"
"Oh, I volunteered" Anderson said, triumph and venom dripping from each word. Skylar then turned her head to glare at him fiercely; Anderson had always reminded her of a snake. Greasy and disgusting without the charm though. He turned back to whatever he was looking at on the kitchen side, desperate to not be the reason for Skylar's harsh glare.
"They all did" Lestrade concluded, he was happy with this outcome. Nothing like rattling Sherlock's cage a bit ebvery now and again. "They're not strictly on the drug's squad, but they're very keen."
"Are those human eyes?" Sally asked disbelievingly, coming around the corner from the kitchen, holding up a jar.
"Put those back!" Sherlock barked at her.
"They were in the microwave"
"It's an experiment" Sky chipped in, completely oblivious to how weird a thing it was.
"Keep looking guys" Lestrade commended the other officers; he stood up and approached Sherlock. "or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."
"This is childish" Sherlock and Skylar said at the same time.
Greg ignored Skylar in favour of talking to the consulting detective; he didn't have a problem with the kid. "Well I'm dealing with a child. Sherlock, this is our cade. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"
Sherlock stopped his angry pacing to glare at Lestrade. "Oh, what, so you set up a pretend drug's bust to bully me?"
"It stops being pretend if they find anything" Greg's eyes flicked to Skylar for a moment, Sherlock followed his gaze, noticing how she was watching the exchange with raised eyebrows.
"I am clean!" Sherlock announced loudly.
"Is your flat? All of it?"
"I don't even smoke."
"Neither do I."
The two men unbuttoned their cuffs and rolled their sleeved up, showing each other the patched on their lower arm. Lestrade with one patch, Sherlock with three dotted on his pale skin, John frowned, only just processing that Sherlock was an ex-junkie. Skylar shifted in her chair, placing her arms on her legs and leaning forwards slightly.
"So let's work together" Lestrade said as he rolled his sleeve back down again. "We've found Rachel."
"Who is she?"
"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter."
John had shifted closer to Skylar while Sherlock and Lestrade talked. "Are you ok?" he asked.
Sky nodded and looked up at him with a small smile. This was John's caring side, like his doctor side it mattered. Sherlock's harsh baritone broke their small exchanged when he practically shouted. "Why would she still be upset?" Although Skylar and John had not been focused on the conversation even they had picked up on the words, dead and still born before Sherlock's outburst.