4.
The more time that John spent with them, the more he realised just how alike Sherlock and Elspeth were.
The first he noticed was the way they both ate like they'd gone for days without eating, and it was only then that he realised just how skinny Elspeth was. John had read about those models that starved themselves but he somehow couldn't relate that to the teenager in front of him, watching her as she shovelled another mouthful of noodles into her mouth.
He also saw that when Sherlock or Elspeth smiled, their eyes crinkled in the corner in the same way. It was quite endearing.
The two men tried to avoid the subject of the 'mysterious' shooter, and Sherlock somehow managed to satisfy Elspeth's endless curiosity when she asked continuous questions about it. John didn't know whose benefit it was for but he was thankful even so.
"We haven't scared you off, have we?" Elspeth asked him suddenly, her grin lopsided. John smiled back.
"No, no, not yet," he said, glancing at Sherlock. The younger man grinned to himself despite trying to hide it.
"Good. I don't want to move again."
Elspeth looked pointedly at Sherlock, who returned it with an annoyed glance.
"What do you mean?" John asked.
"Didn't Dad tell you? We got evicted from our last home."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. Elspeth glared at him. They were a funny pair, John thought, but he didn't know if they were the sort of funny that made him want to laugh or funny peculiar.
"Dad didn't pay the rent," Elspeth added for John's benefit.
"Oh."
They finished their meals and when their plates were taken away, a small plate with three fortune cookies was put into the centre of the table. Elspeth grinned at Sherlock.
"Well?"
"Love, money and life," Sherlock listed in a bored tone. John stared at him in confusion.
"What?"
"Dad's predicting the fortunes," Elspeth explained, her grin widening as she reached out and picked up one of the cookies, breaking it open. "Help, I'm being held prisoner in a fortune cookie factory!" she read, laughing when Sherlock snatched the paper from her and read it, scowling.
"What does it really say?" John asked her.
"Something about finding my one true love or whatever," Elspeth said dismissively, waving her hand. "I don't believe it."
"In love or the fortune?"
"Both. Neither. I don't know." Elspeth's skinny shoulders hunched slightly as she shrugged. "It doesn't really matter."
John smiled at her scepticism, reaching out for his own fortune cookie. The slip of paper fell onto the table and he picked it up to read the fortune.
There will be unexpected changes in your life. Embrace them.
His eyebrows furrowing slightly, John read and reread the fortune, his lips twitching into a slight smile as he folded the tiny piece of paper and tucked it into his pocket. He was unaware that Sherlock was watching him with his own smile.
"So apparently you're going to receive a lot of money soon," Elspeth said, craning her neck and reading Sherlock's fortune. "Yay."
Rolling his eyes, Sherlock very gently pushed Elspeth's head away.
Sherlock paid, ignoring John's mild protests that he should contribute towards the meal, and held the door open for Elspeth and John to pass through. As they walked down the street, Elspeth looped her arm through her father's.
John smiled; he thought it was an affectionate gesture until Elspeth suddenly bound forwards to their front door, Sherlock's keys swinging in her hand.
"Pickpocketing run in the family, then?" John murmured to Sherlock.
"She has an unfortunate knack for it," Sherlock replied quietly.
"I know you're talking about me," Elspeth called over her shoulder, unlocking the front door and running up the steps.
"About you, yes, not to you," Sherlock called back. Elspeth stopped, spun around and stuck her tongue out at him.
Kicking her shoes off, Elspeth threw her coat over the back of a chair. "I'm going to bed. You should too, Dad."
"I'm not tired," Sherlock said in a distracted manner, picking up his laptop and sitting down with it.
"How long has it been since you slept?"
"Only two days, it's fine."
John stared at Sherlock incredulously.
"He's gone longer without it," Elspeth told him before walking through to the bathroom, locking herself in.
"I should probably go to be as well," John said somewhat awkwardly, unsure of what else to say despite everything that he and Sherlock had been through.
"Alright."
"Are you really not going to sleep?"
"No."
"Huh."
The bathroom door opened again and Elspeth wandered out, a bit of toothpaste on her chin.
"Chin," Sherlock said without looking up. With a self-conscious grin, Elspeth wiped her chin with the back of her hand.
"Night Dad, night John."
"Night," John said. Sherlock still didn't look up from his laptop.
That night, when John had changed into his pyjamas and lay down in his bed, he took a few minutes to gaze up at the ceiling and contemplate the events of the day.
His life definitely wasn't going to be the same now Sherlock and Elspeth Holmes had walked into it.
Elspeth didn't emerge from her room until late morning, her hair a dishevelled mess, and she hadn't quite woken up properly, which was why she bumped into the doorway on her first attempt of walking into the living room. Groaning sleepily, she clutched her forehead and shut her eyes.
"Morning," John greeted her cheerfully. Elspeth made a sleepy noise of protest, flopping onto the sofa.
"It's too early," she moaned, picking up a cushion and pressing it against her face as if to smother herself.
"Do you want some coffee?"
Elspeth nodded, lifting the cushion slightly so John could see her pout of self-pity. Smiling, he poured her a cup and put it down on the table.
"Where's Dad?" she asked sleepily, pushing herself up onto her elbows so she could drink her coffee.
"Bathroom."
"Did you sleep alright? No nightmares?"
"Slept like a log," John told her with a grin. Elspeth responded with her own lopsided grin.
"No sudden regrets? Most people have regrets."
"Not me."
Elspeth's grin widened but she hid it behind her coffee mug, sipping the drink and feeling its warmth flow through her, sighing gratefully as she sat up properly.
After the previous evening, it seemed so strangely domestic and ordinary to sit at the table with a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other, a rack of toast steadily cooling down in front of him. Still, John didn't mind. He embraced the normalcy of it; he had a funny feeling that it wouldn't last long.
Finally, Elspeth rose from her seat on the sofa, sitting down at the table with him and curling her long legs up to her chest, her bare toes parting slightly as she shifted in the chair. Reaching out, she picked up a piece of toast and started to pull off the crusts.
"You don't like the crusts?" John asked, amused.
"Nope. People always used to say that it would make my hair curl and I didn't want to end up like Dad." Huffing, Elspeth tucked a strand of her wild hair behind her ear. "Damn genes had another idea."
John laughed quietly, briefly wondering if all teenagers were odd or if it was just one of Elspeth's quirks.
"Morning," Elspeth called as Sherlock left the bathroom, his dressing gown billowing slightly.
"I thought I heard your voice. It's a bit early for you, isn't it?"
Elspeth stuck her tongue out, taking an angry bite out of her toast.
"If you must know," she said, scowling. "I'm going out."
"You're meeting your friends from college for lunch, I know," Sherlock said. "Don't worry, there's enough hot water for you to have a shower."
"Great. Don't touch the kitchen taps or I will end you."
Sherlock smirked. It had only been once that he'd disturbed Elspeth's shower by interfering with the taps, therefore turning her blissfully warm water freezing cold, but she'd never forgiven him for it.
"College," John repeated curiously, looking up at Sherlock.
"Sixth form. She's in her first year."
"So she's smart."
"If you can consider three art subjects smart, then yes, she is," Sherlock said with a slight sneer. It was no secret that he would've much preferred it if Elspeth had chosen more academic subjects for her education but she was just as stubborn as he was.
Elspeth didn't take long in the shower, emerging with a dressing gown wrapped around herself and her damp hair looking slightly less wild, and she quickly ran upstairs to get dressed. A few minutes later, Sherlock and John could hear her music playing.
While John continued to read the newspaper and Sherlock sat with his laptop on the table, occasionally making a comment regarding the emails he'd been sent, Elspeth spent a considerably longer time in her room than she did in the bathroom. They didn't say so, but neither man knew why it took teenage girls so long to get ready.
"Have you got my card?" Elspeth asked, her bright yellow satchel swinging on her shoulder. She was wearing a pair of very tight jeans and a baggy, stripy jumper that John could only assume was stylish at the present moment. Looking up, he saw that she'd traced her upper eyelid with eyeliner, adding small flicks in the corners of her eyes. "It wasn't in my purse," she added distractedly, picking up a pair of boots from by the windowsill.
"It's in my wallet," Sherlock replied. With a huff, Elspeth pulled on her boots and strode across the room, searching through the pockets of Sherlock's coat for his wallet. "You'll find that Mycroft has made a generous contribution towards your finances."
"How nice," Elspeth muttered, opening Sherlock's wallet and taking her card out. "Why do you even have this?"
"It's my responsibility as a father to make sure that Mycroft isn't spoiling you."
"Of course he's spoiling me, I'm his only niece." Elspeth eyed Sherlock suspiciously. "Unless you're not telling me something."
"I can assure you that one child is more than enough."
"You say the nicest things, Dad."
Sherlock's smile was sarcastic and Elspeth all too happily returned it, tucking her card into her own purse.
"Anyway, I should get going," she added, putting her purse away. "I'll be back . . . later. Don't blow anything up."
Sherlock rolled his eyes in irritation, batting Elspeth away when she pressed an exaggerated kiss onto his cheek, laughing at him.
"Ok, see you both later!" she called, wiggling her fingers at John.
There was a brief silence after Elspeth had gone, the front door slamming shut behind her, much to Mrs Hudson's dismay. John listened to the sound of the landlady's mild complaints as she wandered back to her own flat, shutting the door, and then the silence was resumed.
Slowly closing the paper, John folded it and looked up at Sherlock, who was concentrating on the laptop screen.
"No cases today?" John asked, feeling slightly hopeful.
"None of any interest."
"Oh."
"Don't look too disappointed, John," Sherlock said, smiling at him over his laptop. "Days like these are rare. Enjoy them while you still can."
Thank you xxxMadameMysteryxxx, Starcrier, ObeyYourHeart and Bookworm45669 (I'm acknowledging your existence again!) for reviewing! This chapter is a bit of a filler but I wanted there to be a transition between A Study In Pink and the Blind Banker.
And in case anyone is wondering, I imagine Elspeth being portrayed by Astrid Berges-Frisbey.
