"Ethel . . . you hear me? . . . Up, get up."

Etheldrea blinked her eyes, squinting against the light. She was still on the floor, but was being held by her father.

"Etheldrea, say something." Sherlock asked hurriedly.

"Dad? What -" she looked up and saw the dead man on the table, "What happened to him?"

"Someone shot him through the window, I don't know who."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. You?"

She sat up, slightly dazed, "Good, better in a while though."

"Yes, it'll take a few minutes for the drug to wear off. I'll explain everything in a while. Come on, Lestrade is waiting."

Sherlock helped her stand and supported her down the stairs. Immediately a couple medics put some orange blankets around them. The medics led them over to an ambulance and asked them a few questions. Etheldrea answered them honestly and tried shrugging the blanket off. They kept sticking it back on her, and so she stood up and tossed it off. She stood a couple feet away so they would leave her, and she watched as Lestrade strode over to them.

"Why have I got this blanket, they keep putting this blanket on me?" Sherlock asked.

"It's for shock." Lestrade

"I'm not in shock."

"Yeah . . . but some of the guys want to take photographs."

Sherlock shook his head, "So the shooter, no sign?"

"Cleared off before we got here. But a guy like that would have had enemies I suppose, one could have been following him, but . . . We got nothing to go on."

Etheldrea smirked as her father said, "Oh I wouldn't say that."

"Ok, give it to me."

"The bullet I dug out of the wall was from a handgun; kill shot form that distance and that kind of weapon, that's a crack shot you're looking for. Not just a marksman, a fighter, is hands couldn't have shaken at all. Clearly he's acclimatized to violence."

Etheldrea looked over towards some police cars and saw John watching them patiently. Something in her mind clicked and she nudged her dad.

"He didn't fire until I was in immediate danger, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man with probably a history of military service, and nerves of steel-" He looked over and John.

He looked away and went on, "Actually, ignore me."

"What?"

"Ignore all of that, it's just the shock talking." Sherlock began walking to John.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to talk about the rent."

"I've still got questions for you two!"

"Oh what now? I'm shock, look I've got a blanket! Etheldrea is still working the drug out of her system!"

"Sherlock!"

"And I've just caught you a serial killer. . . More or less."

"Ok, we'll bring you in tomorrow."

Etheldrea asked him, "Text me when it's all cleaned up here, please?"

"Of course."

Lestrade waved them off, and they walked over to John. Sherlock took the blanket off and tossed it into a police car.

John said, "Uh, Sargent Donavan's just been explain everything. Two pills? Dreadful business, isn't it?"

"Good shot."

John nodded, "Yes, yes, must have been, through a window."

"You'd know. We have to get the powder burn off your fingers. I don't suppose you've served time for this but let's avoid the court case. Are you alright?"

"Of course I'm alright."

"Well you have just killed a man."

"Yes. It's true. But he wasn't a very nice man."

"No, no he wasn't really was he?"

"No, and frankly a bloody awful cabby."

Sherlock and Etheldrea laughed and John scolded them as he laughed too.

"We can't giggle, it's a crime scene. Stop it."

"Well you're the one who shot him, not me." Sherlock said as they passed closely to Donavan.

"Keep your voice down." To Sally he said, "Sorry it's the nerves."

"Sorry." Sherlock said.

"You were going to take that damn pill weren't you?"

Etheldrea looked at her dad, "Ok, you were going to take a pill? A pill that does what exactly?"

"Kills people." John replied.

"Of course not. I was biding my time. I knew you'd turn up." Sherlock said.

"No you didn't. That's why you do it, you risk you're life to prove you're clever?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Cause you're an idiot."

Sherlock smiled, "Dinner?"

"Starving."

"Near here there's a Chinese place that stays open until two."

Etheldrea looked up as a black car door opened. Her Uncle Mycroft stepped out and waited as they walked over.

"Sherlock that's him, that's the man I was talking about." John said worried.

"I know exactly who he is."

Mycroft greeted them with a thing smile, "So, another case cracked? How very public spirited. But that's not really you're motivation, is it?"

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you and Etheldrea. I got a call form one of my men that my dear niece was walking into a soon to be murder scene."

"Well as you can see, she's fine." He replied sternly.

"Always so aggressive. Has it ever accord to you that we might be on the same side?"

"Oddly enough, no."

"We have more in common then you like to believe. This petty feud between us is childish. People will suffer."

"Oh believe me, they already are." Etheldrea mumbled.

"And you know how it upsets Mummy."

"I upset her? Me? It wasn't me that upset her Mycroft."

"Wait, now hold on?" John asked, "Niece? Mummy? Who's Mummy?"

"Mother, our Mother. This is my brother, Mycroft. Etheldrea's Uncle." He asked Mycroft, "Putting on weight again?"

"Losing it, in fact."

"He's your brother?" John asked, still confused.

"Of course he's my brother."

"So he's not?"

"Not what?"

"Not- oh, I don't know a criminal mastermind?"

"Close enough."

Mycroft groaned, "Oh for goodness sake. I occupy a minor position in the British Government."

Etheldrea scoffed, "Define minor."

"He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British secret service, or CIA on a freelance basis."

"Don't forget FBI."

"I don't work with the FBI, Etheldrea."

"Oh please, then why'd you go over to the Quantico headquarters for nearly a year?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, "Well you're the one who called me for help that one day."

"Good evening Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does to the traffic." Sherlock said, walking away.

Etheldrea and John stayed behind for a few moments.

"So when you say you're concerned about him, you actually are concerned?" John asked.

"Yes, of course."

"It actually is a childish feud?"

"He's always been so resentful. You can imagine the Christmas dinners."

"Yeah, err, no. No. Uh, well, we better-" he saw 'Anthea', "Hello again."

"Hello."

"We met earlier on this evening."

It took her a moment, and then she remembered, "Oh!"

"Alright then, good night."

"Goodnight Uncle Mycroft. Bye Danielle." Etheldrea said as they walked to Sherlock.

"Goodnight dear, Doctor Watson."

"Is that her real name?" John asked her.

"Probably not. I just call her whatever I want. There's a man who I call whatever I want to. Doesn't make a difference, they ignore every word you say."

"I see. So Chinese?" he asked as they met up with Sherlock.

Sherlock told him, "I can always predict the fortune cookies."

"No you can't."

"He almost can." Etheldrea said.

"You did get shot though." Sherlock told John.

"I'm sorry what?"

"In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound."

"Oh yes, in the shoulder."

"Shoulder, I thought so."

"No you didn't." John and Etheldrea both said.

"The left one."

"Lucky guess."

"I never guess."

"Yes you do." John and Etheldrea said in unison again.

The three walked down the street, turned right and headed straight for the only open restaurant on the block. Etheldrea ran ahead and grabbed the door for them. The sat at a table and made their order.

"So, what happened?" Etheldrea asked her dad, "I come home and you're on the floor flailing around, and then you're by my side getting me up. Then I hear you were going to take a, and I quote 'damn pill'."

"I wasn't going to take it."

"Oh please, if John hadn't been there, you would have taken it."

"You don't know that."

"No, but I know you. So what happened? Did we miss anything?"

"Only a couple, but I figured it out once I saw the phone. Rachel was a password."

"That makes sense, one of those MePhones right?"

"Yes. Of you'll excuse me for a moment." Sherlock said, standing up.

He walked away and towards the bathroom, leaving John and Etheldrea alone.

"So Etheldrea, what do you do for fun?"

"Other than solve crimes? Reading. I love reading. I also love being in the lab at Bart's."

"So, do you like biology? Or forensics?"

"Definitely. I'd like to work on the force someday, maybe add a bit of knowledge to their team."

"Replace Sargent Donavan?"

"Work alongside her. She may be a . . . well, she may not be very nice, but she does her job right and she's very good at it. Anderson on the other hand, well, he could be replaced."

"Yeah, he could, couldn't he?" John laughed.

"So what about you? What do you do for fun?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing, no reading, or, chess?"

"Nothing, life's been a bit boring until recently."

"Well, prepare to never be bored again. Uh, has dad told you anything about his . . . experiments?"

"Experiments?"

"Yes, he, uh, he gets bored rather easily. When he'd bored he does experiments. Sometimes it's with plants, or random objects, and sometimes it's with . . . body parts."

"Bod- body parts?"

"Yes, in the fridge, the microwave, stove, cupboards. Anywhere he can store them."

"I- uh, I see." He said timidly.

Etheldrea added quickly, "If it's a problem, I'm sure I can convince him to keep them at Bart's."

"No, no, it's fine."

Sherlock came back and asked him, "Really?"

"Yeah, I'll just be careful to keep my tea on a separate shelf."

Etheldrea smiled, "You're a lot more tolerant than previous persons."

"Who lasted the longest?"

"The first one." Sherlock replied.

"He left us after three days, didn't realize there were body parts until he went to microwave his coffee." Etheldrea said.

"Surprisingly, he missed the fingers in the freezer."

"I had moved those, there hadn't been any room for the groceries."

John stared at them as they talked about it like it was completely normal. Then, to Etheldrea's amazement, he started laughing. It was then she knew John was going to be a perfect flat mate.