Sherlock frowned and rolled eyes to the young girl with a sigh, "I'm not understanding what sort of...image you have of me! I'm not...father material." he groaned, looking to John and angrily to the girl. "Fine, I'll help you...But I'm not doing it for you..." "I just...okay, so lets do this crap." Madeline smiled a small smile. Sherlock scoffed at her spunk, though it questionably reminded him of himself and grabbed her back the nape of her coat, pulling her back. "And just where do you think your going? Do you have any remote idea what you're getting yourself into...?"
He took her by surprise. "hey!, I just left my flash in the car. Most likely not but me not knowing what I want to know will drive me insane and I'd rather keep my sanity thank you very much." His face twisted, and scoffed, "What flash! I don't think you fully understand what you're putting yourself into and I sure as hell will leave you if you don't straight up and THINK. CLEARLY." John looked to the little girl and sighed, breaking her of her of the grip that generally made Sherlock a lot scarier. "I think what he's trying to say...Is that you're too young to just go rushing about this wrong way; something serious could happen and now.., We're responsible for you. Isn't that right Sherlock? ...Sherlock?" John twisted around before seeing the taller, ignorant man stomp off toward the conde.
they are now responsible for me? does john want to.? no he can't we only just met. damn he's scary, can't blame him though I get like that. "I can take care of my self I'm not a child, and I'm used to this. Having a bomb planted in my hands is not scary to me. I have /no/ fear and only one weakness. He's right I need to straighten up and think clearly. and what do you mean 'you responsible for me'?" Sherlock paused, turning around once he heard key words in her phrasing.
"A bomb planted in-" Swiftly he grabbed her by the shoulders, icy daggers if his eyes staring at her firmly. "I want you to tell me every detail you have of who dropped off this bomb. I want their face, skin tone, hair and eye colour. Remember EVERYTHING." he ordered with a slight panic behind his eyes.
Madleline's heart beat raised she closed her eyes to get a better picture. "It was a bell hop, he had deep blue eyes, blonde hair, a nice tan and his face...brod jaw," she stopped talking and looked to my right.
"That's him, now don't go and torment him I think It was given to him and then to me but the bomber most likely didn't want to be seen so he would have a loyal assistant to give to the front desk and then leave. this is like being at home just I'm the victim this time." "Victim or not, you've come the closest to our bomber and I'm going to need some sort of lead on that man and the one he received his bomb from. Let alone why it was deliver to you...of all people?" He sighed, did she go blabbering her mouth to someone that she was his alleged daughter, that could be what type of pawn they were using her for but other than that, no motive was presenting itself in handing a bomb to a little girl. "Dunno, thing is I've only told one person and she's in America. sorry I think out loud some times. John what were you saying earlier?" John stammered, trying to revert back to himself now that Sherlock was being unreasonable again and all it ever seemed to him was to be the reason.
"Uh, I was saying...that since you claim to be Sherlock's daughter and that you're here now...We might as well be your care takers. You are ...what 15?" "I only stated a possibility to be proven but hey I'm not complaining and no I'm only 13 then again that's how old people always think I am." John blinked looking the girl over once more again and then back at Sherlock, who was oddly biting at the nail of his thumb as he did his own surveying. "So thirteen years ago... What did you say your mother's name was again." Vanessa wilder, she had me then got in a car wreck that killed her instantly and the rest is easy." wow it's like he's in 3 places at once.
Madeline thought to her self. "Easy...?" John gulped, at the morbid turn of her personality. This had to be Sherlock's daughter... "Um yeah it should. Can we not do this at a crime seen? and do the blood test?" "Uh...what exactly?" John questioned, before he was interrupted by Sherlock's panting.
"Look, I got a lead that we can meet within the hour. Madeline...You can get your blood test and any questions from me within that time. You better make it quick." His blue eyes narrowed, his firm personality settling on her hard. "Okay well I don't know where any thing is at so lead me." Sherlock grunted with a furied expression as he escorted the girl away; beneath his breath mentioning how worthless and annoying she was. "hey! give me a minute!"
Madeline ducked away from him and John, She went to the police car grabbed her flash drive and when back to them. "Its my flash drive, I can hardly live with out it." Sherlock rose a brow, slipping slim fingers into the soft velvet gloves. "What's the purpose of relying on a silly flash drive?" Madeline didn't want to say why but she had too, and anyways he would be able to tell if she was lying. "I have stuff on here that I, shouldn't have, that is nothing that anyone would suspect me of having. I have 'spare money' you could say and 3 Identities."
Madeline looked over her left shoulder, cleared her throat looked to the ground and back to him. Madeline's lips twitched a smile. "Can you not tell anyone?" "I don't gossip." Sherlock mumbled, pushing his hands off into his pockets and strutting away, John promptly nodding his head to her. "Don't worry...He'a actually telling the truth about that." "figured, it was quite obvious but I just needed to make sure." She put her hands in her pant pockets and started to follow Sherlock.
John smiled shaking his head a she mimicked Sherlock's position and followed off after them, smiling at the pair. We got a cab and went to a place that was a morgue but it had a lab, Madeline had already forgotten the name of it John was standing by watching and was ready to help when needed. Sherlock looked at her expectantly. She held her arm up from him to grab. Madeline looked away and flinched at the little pain the needle gave her. after a few second Sherlock cleaned it. He leaned against the counter. Sherlock looked at the small girl with a scrutinizing look, his finger flicking the vile of blood before he grabbed another and plunged the needle in his own arm; sucking the crimson mortar with a soft hiss and slowly pulled it out.
"There...This should be enough to test with." he motioned, pressing a gauze to his arm, to stop the bleeding. He sat back on a stool, studying over the young girl with a soft mumble to himself, John busy reading the post off to the side with a gentle murmur. "So where did you say you were from again, Madeline? And you're mother...suicide was it?" he asked with slight scrutiny, watching her with prying eyes.
Madeline slightly bit her tongue, this was always a touchy subject. "America and no it was a hit and run, that's what the police say any ways, tried to figure it out but Richmen restricted my access to the case file, I almost got the file once before, but then it got moved to a digital copy, and locked with a completely random code." "And why do you think that is? Why would your mother's death be restricted to you, especially you?" he asked, picking up a pen and flicking it about it his hands idly, testing her. If this really was to be his daughter, a smart bone must be in there somewhere. "Because it wasn't a hit and run, and I believe that Richmen is behind all of it and his probably behind the bombing as well. there might of been evidence that he was to blame for her death, so he got out of the mess with out it going viral kept quiet and lied to me to make things 'better', then again I don't really know."
Madeline started playing a piano piece on her thigh to help her think. Sherlock smiled, maybe she wasn't such a dumb kid after all. "Mm, good start but not quite close...I'll assist you to who may have 'murdered' your mother." Madeline looked at him slightly confused but with excitement. "Really? I thought, okay, cool." She smiled to Sherlock but then quickly zoned out on the floor, Madeline practiced notes of a piece by Beethoven.
"Beethoven?" he asked, watching her movements and the notes beginning to play within his mind. "Yeah, I enjoy his stuff, same with Mozart, what 'bout you?" Sherlock shrugged, clasping his hands together across his lap. "Mm, not so much. Although I am impressed by the technical skill it takes to play, I am not a man of piano. Violin...I adore the great classics, the ultimate precision. It's not so gray scale as piano. It is right or wrong."
"Cool, so how long have you two known each other and is there any other Holmes?" Sherlock looked at John before going back to the young girl. "I've known John a little less than a year, and of course there are other Holmes'; I wouldn't be here if not so." He huffed, John taking a moment to roll his eyes into the post before folding it over and lifting the saucer of tea to his lips. Madeline pursed her lips, clearly the other Holmes hadn't passed. "So what's your thoughts on the hit and run?" She was curious about what his thought process was.
He closed his eyes and he spread out his long, thin legs in a thin line across the table; angling back in his chair. "That indeed your man Richmen is possibly an indirect connect and that it is anything but a 'hit-and-run'. Your mother was murdered." "How do you think?" a thing went ding in the background, I unconsciously cocked my head to the left. "Oh there's numerous ways to make a murder look like an accident and a hit and run is a big key, considering the number of car accidents that happen on a daily consensus and then the number of complete strangers that weren't paying attention to violent imbeciles with something to prove."
He noticed he was rambling and shook his head to rid of the floating number crunching that began and stood up to take the vials of blood from the fridge, and test them. Madeline went to where he was and watched carefully, far enough so she wasn't breathing down his neck but close enough to clearly see what he was doing. "I find your voice..." She didn't finish her sentence, because it was merely a thought that had slipped into words. "What?" he asked, looking down at her from his tall height, noticing that she was small and thin framed just as he was. Though he eyes were darker, they still held the perplexing curiosity as his.
Madeline looked up at him and blushed lightly, then looked down to her feet. "Nothing, it was nothing." She felt embarrassed. He frowned, "Speak up, I do not understand mumbling...What was it?" She Began to fiddle with the lint in her pocket. "I find your voice, comforting." Madeline said it loud enough so that he could hear her.
She glanced up at him for a fraction of a second. She felt her face get hot. She wished that he had dropped it. Sherlock raised his brows with surprise, shocked that the girl could even compile a compliment though he himself had never been particularly fond of his voice but it was nice to think she, who could possibly be his daughter find it soothing. "Uh...well..."He reached over and gently patted her head, unsure of what else to do. "Thank you."
As soon as he patted Madeline's head her mind went 'what the bloody hell'. "Any time." Sherlock continued what he was doing and she continued to watch took him a moment to gather his bearings, now wary by the girl's peering eyes and took the tubes of blood and began to test at them both, silent in concentration though he felt the hot sting of her eyes watching him cautiously. She didn't know how much time had passed, Sherlock took a step back and let out a sigh. She looked up at him.
He held out the blood speckled paper to Madeline and stared. "It's blue..." he mentioned indicating the line between the separate blood blots. "It means they match." John choked on his tea. She was bewildered and excited. Madeline opened and closed her mouth a few times before she could speak.
"So... what do, do we do?" Sherlock pushed the paper into her hands and shrugged, wiping his hands across his dark pants and beginning to walk off to grab himself a small saucer of tea. "I don't know what do we do? I honestly am not fit to raise a daughter, as I said I don't see what I could possibly provide for you." "Well maybe I could stay with another Family member?, I don't want to go back to America!" Even if it meant getting separated from her BFF, she didn't want to go back to America, She didn't have any where to go any ways. "Please, Sherlock."
Sherlock blinked to the begging child, "I...I'm not your guardian Madeline, I can't say anything to make it otherwise. Hell, just days ago I barely knew you exist...I apologize." He said genuinely, looking to her with honest and sincere blue eyes. "There's simply nothing I can do." Madeline shook her head and sighed. "Okay, well we do have a case to work on yes?"
Her heart was heavy like stone, she wanted to cry so badly. This month was going so badly, but Madeline sucked it up and carried on with a mask of fake emotion. "Maybe it's best we don't work on the case...together. You seem distraught and I'm not very skilled with consoling...Or adolesents, for that matter." "No I want to work on the case with you, because you interest me, I`m curious about you. My mind has been going in circles for a month. I just need to clear me head and frankly thats not the easyest thing right now which I don`t know why but its not." "Then fretting over your mother's death will not do anything to solve that problem. You need to take the time to concentrate and free your mind. A clear and productive mind is better than a cluttered jumble you have now."
Without realizing it, it was probably the most adult and further most fatherly thing Sherlock had ever said before, and now knowing that he had a daughter; it became the easiest to convey. It was hard to know what he was going to say, even though Madeline barely know John but she could closely predict what he is going to say. She looked at her surroundings and her watch for a second. "Are we leaving or staying cos I need half an hour." "I presume I'll keep to myself here...Watson, would you be so kind as to take Madeline home. I have work to do."
He said quietly, his slight hesitance being shown just momentarily before he sat back down and began to tinker with his things around his setting. John nodded softly with a surprised mumbled and gently put a hand on Madeline's shoulder. "Uh, where should I be taking you now?" "Your guys place would be fine." Madeline glanced at Sherlock then back to John. "Sherlock, we'll be at the flat." we hailed a cab and went to 221 B Baker st. we went in side and up stairs.