A/N: Happy Reichenbach D:


"Sherlock?"

He didn't answer, so Raven tried again. "Sherlock?"

She huffed and flopped back in the armchair after being met with only silence. Sitting sideways with her legs draped over the armrest, she kicked them aimlessly back and forth a moment. "Sherlock?"

"What?" He finally responded, looking away from the microscope.

"I'm bored."

"Don't. Care."

This wasn't how she'd pictured her time with Sherlock Holmes. She'd envisioned adventure, mysteries, crimes. Not stuck in the flat for the fourth straight day with no iPod, no computer, no mobile and nothing but the same dull Christmas specials on TV. Mycroft hadn't sent her electronics for fear of… something, she wasn't sure … and Sherlock refused to let her go out.

"I'm not losing this time," he'd told her. "I'm taking no chances."

Which translated into her being held in captivity. She crossed her arms and sighed. "Can I use your computer?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because if you were allowed to use a computer, my brother would have sent yours."

"I don't understand why I'm not allowed to use a computer? Or anything at all?"

"There are rules," Sherlock replied, looking back down at the microscopic specimen. "You are undoubtedly aware that I am given something to work on while you stay with me. You have always been instrumental in the conclusion."

That she did know. "And…?"

"You were the key. Not technology."

"Maybe technology will play a part this time? You've got to embrace the future!"

Sherlock laughed, but it was cold and made the girl shiver. "No one has embraced the future more than I, I assure you." He turned the knob on the instrument in front of him, refining the image before his eyes. "Something will turn up. Now shut up and watch telly. Or go play with Drew." He waved her off with his hand. "Isn't that what children do? Play together?"

"Yes, but I'm not a child," she replied snidely. "He is. I don't play with children."

"That's a matter of debate," Sherlock replied sternly, "one I'm too busy to get into at this moment."

The conversation was over from his tone. Raven huffed at her bangs and grabbed the remote from beside her. "Oh look, Doctor Who is on again," she announced over her shoulder. "What a surprise! It's the bloody Christmas one again!"

"Language," Sherlock scolded, and she rolled her eyes. "And you'll have to be more specific. I know from the amount of times John has forced me to sit through it that there are multiple Christmas episodes."

"It's the one with the thing and everybody freaks out until suddenly there's a happy ending and it's Christmas and God I'm BORED," Raven declared, flinging her arm into the air and letting it fall limply where it landed. When no answer met her ears, she turned over in the chair and peered over the armrest. "Can I help with something?"

"No."

"Why? I'm smart!"

"Except for the fact that you don't know when you should shut up."

"Yeah, but from what John's been telling me, I'm not the only one who has that problem."

There was a silence. "Right. You're banned from visiting his flat."

"You can't do that!" Visiting John was the one bit of freedom she did have. He was certainly a better conversationalist than her host.

"Can, and did."

"No you can't! You're not my father."

"For the sake of the next ten days, yes I am."

"I don't have a father because my father's dead." Sherlock looked over to the teenager who now sat on the armrest, staring at him with hard eyes and tightly crossed arms. "I can't remember the man, but I'm not letting you replace him."

"Good." The word slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He could see Raven cocking her head to the side from the corner of his eye. He cursed himself; clearly, Raven wasn't the only one who didn't know when to shut up.

"Good?" She echoed, a smile tugging at her lips. "You don't want to be associated with a father role."

"Obviously."

"So…" She stretched out the word, enjoying her train of thought. "If I were to call you something related to a father, it would bother you, wouldn't it?" Sherlock said nothing, but the girl read into the silence and beamed. "Ah, it would." Raven looked up into nothing, swinging her legs gleefully. "Daddylock."

"Don't."

"But why? This is so entertaining, Daddylock!"

"Raven!"

"You're the one who won't let me on a computer!"

John cleared his throat. For the first time, the arguing two noticed that he was standing in the doorway. "I hate to interrupt, but a letter's just come for you, Sherlock. Not delivered in the normal way either," John continued before Sherlock could dismiss it as boring, holding the mentioned item up for the detective to see. "No, because if something ever happened normally around here I think I'd be worried. This was hand delivered by a man in a suit who didn't say a word. Not one of Mycroft's, I can recognize them."

Raven jumped off the chair. "Oooh, cool! Fin…"

Sherlock stood and pointed his finger at her. "Stay."

"I…"

"Stay."

"Yes, Daddylock," she muttered miserably, slinking back down on to the armrest.

The former doctor frowned. "Daddylock?"

"Don't," Sherlock warned, taking the thick envelope from the other man. Holding it up to the light, he studied it.

"Tried that. Only thing visible was an address. Cambridge."

"It's been hand addressed to me," Sherlock noted aloud, studying the writing. "A man, late sixties who was greatly distressed at the time. His penmanship is normally quite neat, but it's shaky here."

Raven gawked appreciatively, trying to soak in every detail. "How did you…"

"Don't get him started, please," John cut her off, looking as though he were fighting a headache at the thought.

Sherlock tore open the envelope and pulled the letter from inside. His eyes scanned over the writing quickly. "Raven, pack an overnight bag. An actual overnight bag," he clarified. "We're going to Cambridge first thing tomorrow, and we may stay a few days."

"Murder?" She asked hopefully.

"No. Potential cheater."

"What?"

"John, I'd like it if you came as well. Raven and I will be driving. I'll text you the address of where we'll be once we arrive there."

"You're driving?" John asked.

"No murder?" Raven whimpered.

"The game is on, and I will win it this time," Sherlock replied, ignoring the girl sulking on the armrest of the chair. "I'm taking no chances for interference. As you well know, you can't always trust a cabbie."

John nodded. "I'll get Drew ready," he said before disappearing back down the stairs.

"A cheater?" Raven asked. "Come on, that sounds boring. I know all about you. You only take cases that are interesting or provide some sort of challenge. An affair…"

"Not that kind of cheater," he assured her with a pleased smile as he sunk into his own thoughts, pressing his fingertips together. "This is the case, Raven. I told you it would turn up." He looked at her sharply. "I told you to pack, did I not?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"Pack. Now." Somewhat reluctantly, Raven pulled herself in the direction of the stairs. "And only take what you need!" He called after her. "For God's sakes don't bring your entire department store's worth of wardrobe with you! Or your hair salon!"

"Yes, Daddylock." The words were followedby a thumping of her stamping up the stairs.

Sherlock looked back at the letter and smiled. Now, the game had begun.