Third Person POV
"I had a row!" John yelled as he walked into the apartment, dropping his shopping bags onto the floor as Sherlock's lips twitched up slightly as he read the book in his hand. "The chip and pin machine wouldn't take my card."
"My card is on the side," Sherlock simply drawled. "I'll pay for the shopping this week."
"In that case I shall have a large bar of chocolate bringing back to me," Alison's sudden voice spoke as she walked back into the living room after showering and Sherlock frowned.
"Ever since you broke up with Damian you've put on three pounds," he told her. "You aren't in need of more food."
"Shut up," Alison simply muttered. "And I am not fat!"
"If you continue to eat your body weight in ice cream then you will be."
"Shut up," Alison said, placing more emphasis onto her words as she curled into a ball on the living room sofa and Sherlock looked at her for a second before going back to staring at his laptop screen, suddenly standing up and reaching for his jacket.
"We're off to the bank," he declared and John raised a brow.
"Why?" he asked, still grabbing his jacket and going along with Sherlock's plan whilst the consulting detective looked at his daughter.
"You're coming too."
"Why do I need to come?" she asked him.
"Because I said so."
"Why would I want to go to a bank?"
"Do as I say, Alison," Sherlock simply demanded and she huffed but stood up as he handed her the jacket she had left on the banister.
"You've become awfully odd," she informed her father. "First you insist on walking me home and next you demand I come to the bank."
"Clearly I just love having you in my presence," Sherlock said dryly and Alison snorted.
"We both know that's not true."
...
"When you said the bank..." John drawled as they approached the large building in Canary Wharf and Sherlock walked ahead of the pair of them as Alison's mouth dropped open.
"Do you even have permission to be here?" she asked her father, walking by his side and whispering up to him whilst he rolled his eyes.
"Of course," he said. "Although I can be anywhere I like when I have Mycroft's ID. You should hear of some of the secrets I know."
"That's called theft," Alison said to him and he chuckled lightly.
"He did have it coming."
Sherlock strolled up to the large desk on the first floor as Alison and John looked around their surroundings but kept on Sherlock's heels as he declared himself to the receptionist and then the three of them were led down multiple hallways and into an office where they stood momentarily before a man walked in.
"Sherlock Holmes," he declared, holding out his hand for Sherlock to shake and the detective took it.
"Sebastian," he simply replied. "This is John Watson, my friend."
"His colleague," John quickly interjected and nodded at Sebastian.
"And this is Alison...my...daughter..." Sherlock strangled the words out whilst Sebastian raised a brow and chuckled once, taking hold of Alison's hand.
"Pleasure," he slithered out the words and Alison smiled forcefully back whilst Sherlock coughed once. "So Sherlock, you sly dog, she's clearly seventeen or eighteen...who is her mother?"
"None of your concern," Sherlock replied.
"Natalie," Alison said, folding her arms. "She was called Natalie Wilson."
"Wilson?" Sebastian chuckled quickly and looked at Sherlock again. "The fit blonde who studied law?"
"Yes," Sherlock snapped back as Sebastian took his seat and Sherlock and John sat opposite his desk, leaving Alison to stare out the window as they spoke. "I can see you're doing well for yourself, Sebastian. You've gone around the world twice in the last month."
"Well some of us have to be successful, don't they?"
Alison looked on as her father and this man spoke and she could tell that he was never best friends with him and he never would be. They were both obnoxious but Sebastian didn't appreciate her father like John did.
"Anyway, I need you to investigate the break in which we've just had in William's office...they left a mark..." Sebastian said and he stood up, moving off to the room before Sherlock nodded at his daughter sternly and she followed him as they walked through the desks and then into the office of question. "Someone came up in the middle of the night and left the yellow paint. All the doors were locked and so we have no idea how they got in. Here's an advance...find the breach in the security."
"I don't need your money, Sebastian," Sherlock declared and stalked off whilst Alison and John's jaws fell to the floor.
"I will look after that," Alison smiled up at Sebastian and he grinned back down at her.
"I'm older," John interjected. "I'll take better care of it."
"I think Miss Holmes here is capable," Sebastian decided and handed her the cheque down and she looked at the amount of money on it and folded it into two, placing it into the small pocket in her blazer before her and John went back into the waiting room and waited for Sherlock to return from whatever he was doing.
"Are you finished?" Alison asked her father when he came back down. "We're on the other side of London and I need to get back and get ready for work."
"I'll call you a taxi," Sherlock said. "The painting was a message."
"What type of message?"
"No idea," Sherlock replied. "But Edward van Coon can help us."
"And who is he?"
"The next target, I imagine," Sherlock said back to his daughter as he stood on the roadside and called a taxi, allowing it to pull up to the side before he opened the door and went into his wallet, producing a twenty pound note and handing it to Alison. "I shan't be back until late tonight but I should be able to walk you home again. Take the money for the cab and text me when you get home and get to work."
"Are you feeling alright?" Alison wondered and Sherlock said nothing in reply.
"Go," he said and she jumped into the cab as Sherlock shut the door and John whistled lowly.
"You're becoming obvious."
"Oh shut up."
...
"Alison!" a sudden voice said and Alison looked down as she saw Molly Hooper sat in the restaurant she worked in and Alison stopped walking through the crowds, the tray in her hand full of empty drink glasses as she smiled at Molly.
"Molly," she said. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here with Jim," she indicated to the man sat opposite her and he extended a hand to Alison who managed to take it.
"Nice to meet you," Jim said. "Molly has told me about you."
"Well she hasn't told me anything about you," Alison replied.
"You haven't been down to the morgue in a while...not that you would...dead bodies aren't for everyone..."
"Well...I've kind of been busy," Alison lied.
"Understandable," Molly nodded. "Your dad was in the other day though and he was whipping a corpse."
"My dad isn't normally this weird," Alison promised the man named Jim and he smiled once, raising his hands up and shaking his head.
"I'm not here to judge," he said. "And Molly speaks highly of Sherlock."
"Well you know," Molly laughed nervously, "he is very clever."
"So what brings you here?" Alison asked, changing the topic of her father. "I've never seen you here before."
"Jim said it looked nice," Molly replied. "We're kind of on a date and we're still in that stage...you know...well you have Damian don't you?"
Alison went quiet for a second, looking down at the floor and then back around the restaurant.
"I'd best be getting back to work," she said awkwardly.
"Oh," Molly said, picking up on her coldness. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No," Alison said quickly. "It's just that...we broke up," she coughed awkwardly, "he...um...cheated on me."
"Oh, Alison!" Molly gasped. "I am so sorry."
"No man should ever do that," Jim told Alison. "It's very disrespectful."
"Well he did," Alison said. "Anyway...I really best be getting back to work."
"Of course," Molly said. "Say hello to your dad."
"I will."
...
Alison and the waiter she was teaming up with named Patrick leant forward on the worktop where the food was served, their elbows pointing down and their heads resting in their hands as they watched Molly and Jim be the last ones in the restaurant, sipping on their wine and laughing together whilst Alison and Patrick waited for them to go so they could clear the table.
"Sickening, isn't it?" Patrick asked her and she raised a brow and looked to the side at him.
"Why do you say that?"
"Well they don't need to rub it in our faces, do they?"
"What's happened to get you down?" Alison wondered.
"Being dumped by text never does anything to get your spirits high."
"I'm sorry."
"No need to apologise for anything," Patrick shrugged as Molly and Jim stood up. "She was a bitch anyway."
"You two get off," the owner called to the teenagers. "I can clear that table."
"Thanks very much," Alison said and she walked to the door with Patrick as Molly and Jim stepped onto the footpath.
"So we're both unlucky in love?" Patrick quizzed Alison and she chuckled once as he held the door open for her.
"It would seem so...anyway...I'd best be going...my dad is just there."
"Okay," Patrick replied. "I shall see you on Sunday for the shift?"
"Look forward to it," Alison said as she walked over to her father who was speaking to Molly and Jim. He was clearly under sufferance.
"Alison!" Molly squeaked out. She had clearly taken too much of an advantage on the wine. "I was just telling Sherlocky here that I was on a date with Jim."
"Yes," Sherlock said lowly. "Enthralling story too."
"Don't be sarcastic," Alison hissed as Molly wrapped her arm into Jim's.
"It is hard not to be."
"Anyway," Jim interjected as Molly continued to giggle. "I'd best be getting this one home...it was nice to meet you Sherlock...and your daughter too...I can see why people take a shine to her."
"What did you say?" Sherlock suddenly snapped as the cab man's words went round in his head.
'Moriarty has taken quite a shine to her.'
"Nothing," Jim shrugged and Sherlock remained quiet as Jim began to walk off with Molly and Alison looked up at her father as they began to walk in the other direction.
"What was that about?" she asked him as he turned his head around, peering back and catching Jim doing the same thing, a smirk plastered onto his face as Sherlock narrowed his eyes and Jim chuckled, giving Molly his full attention once again.
"Dad?" Alison hissed again and Sherlock went back to looking straight forward, his arm automatically taking his daughter's and wrapping it into his own as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"It was nothing," he denied.
"What's going on?" Alison suddenly asked. "All of this not letting me out of your sight is really becoming too much."
"I do let you out my sight."
"Reluctantly," Alison replied. "If you're not going to tell me what is happening then what am I supposed to think?" she asked him as he heard his phone bleep and he pulled it from his pocket, reading the text from an anonymous sender.
'She really is a ray of sunshine.'
...
"What is this?" Alison snapped as she held up the ticket which her father had placed in front of her the next evening and he narrowed his eyes at the paper as Alison shook her head.
"I thought it was self explanatory," he replied in a drawl and Alison looked at him, her mouth falling open before she looked at the paper quickly.
"Why are you shipping me off to Australia?" she asked him. "Why are you sending me there?"
"You've been missing your mother-"
"-No I haven't!" Alison snapped quickly back at him, not allowing him to finish off the rest of his sentence as she stood up. "I haven't spoken to you about mum in ages! She'll be coming home soon anyway and I start college again in the next two weeks!"
"She isn't coming back," Sherlock replied quietly, walking up and down by his fireplace whilst Alison blinked quickly.
"What do you mean she isn't coming back?"
"I mean she is staying there for another three months."
"You're making this up."
"She called me last night whilst you were working," Sherlock replied. "She didn't particularly enjoy the conversation with me but it needed to be done."
"Why is she staying for another three months?"
"Your new stepfather seems to think Australia has a much better life than that of London," Sherlock spat out quickly, his thoughts going back to the text he had been sent. "Natalie wants you to join her and so I thought this would be a good thing."
"How is this good?" Alison roared. "How is sending me off to the other side of the world a good thing?"
"It will be good for you to see your mother. I am sure you can transfer to a college down there-"
"-Transfer!" Alison yelled. "I don't want to transfer!"
"I'm sure it will be fine," Sherlock promised her and she shook her head.
"I don't want to go! I want to stay here with you...why are you doing this?" she wondered and Sherlock looked at her, noting a tear in the side of her eye. "What's going on? Why are you acting weirder than normal? One minute you're keeping me by your side and the next you're telling me to go to Australia. I know I'm not as smart as you but I'm not stupid!"
Sherlock looked at her as she began to cry quickly and he folded his arms, his eyes looking to the side as he thought of what to tell her.
"I haven't been keeping you close," Sherlock muttered. "I've been doing what your mother would have wanted and she wants you to go out to Australia."
"I don't want to go," Alison sniffed loudly. "I want to stay here...in my own college..."
"You're going and that is final," Sherlock said sternly. "The flight leaves at four tomorrow morning."
"Well it can leave without me on it," Alison said, picking the ticket up and ripping it into shreds.
"I can just get you another one. You're forgetting your uncle runs the country."
"Then I will rip that up too. I am not going until you tell me what is going on," she said.
"This is for your own good, Alison!" Sherlock roared at her, finally blowing it as his normal pale face turned a deep red colour, his hands flying over his body as he spoke;
"I do things to keep you safe, Alison! I know you don't see it like that but I do! I wish you'd just listen to me because I know best!"
"Well why do you want me gone? Why is it so important for me to go? Do you not want me around?"
"Why would you think that?"
"All you do is moan at me all the time...I can never do anything right and even when I do you don't seem to care. You constantly berate me and miss important things which happen in my life!"
"No," Sherlock replied, shaking his head. "I don't moan all the time and I have remembered your birthday every year."
"Only because mum tells you," Alison snorted. "I love you dad...but...but I don't want you to keep hiding things from me. I know who you are and I know I can't change you but can you at least tell me what is going on. Don't I deserve that much?"
Sherlock remained silent, looking at his daughter and noticing how much she resembled her mother when she was upset as Sherlock had seen that many times whilst Natalie was bringing Alison up.
"I think there is someone willing to kill you," Sherlock simply muttered.
...
"And you have no idea who Moriarty is?" Alison asked her father an hour later as she sat on the sofa, her legs tucked up to her chin and Sherlock sat on his wooden chair at the desk.
"I have a hunch," he replied quietly. "I just need some more proof."
"So why...what do I do dad...what do I do now I know someone may want to hurt me?"
"You carry on as normal," Sherlock said simply. "You make sure he doesn't notice a change in your pattern because that will draw attention to you."
"Easier said than done," Alison complained. "But I don't have to go to Australia, do I?"
"It would be safer," Sherlock said.
"But it wouldn't be normal behaviour."
"This is true."
"I don't want to go...but I don't particularly want to die..."
"If you stay then we increase security, okay?"
"Yes," Alison muttered reluctantly.
...
Sherlock continued working late on into the night, trying to work out what the symbols meant from the office in the bank. He remained seated until he heard light breathing coming from his sofa and he saw Alison lay there, still wearing her jeans and vest top as she slept awkwardly on her neck. Sherlock looked at the clock which informed him it was two in the morning and he blinked quickly. He hadn't even heard John come in. He knew he should sleep but he didn't want to when there was a case. But he knew he should move his daughter. He slowly walked over to the sofa, nudging her on the shoulder as she stirred lightly.
"Go to bed, Alison," he told her and she grumbled lightly.
"Humph," she said and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Bed, Alison," he said deeply but she was still unresponsive. "I'm not carrying you to bed like a baby."
"No," she said and reached her arms out and Sherlock shook his head and finally gave in, realising she was still half asleep and as stubborn as he was. He hastily placed his arm around her shoulders, picking her up from under her legs and holding her to him as she placed her head against his shoulder. Sherlock tried to quickly and steadily move down the hallway to her room, managing to bump her head against the doorframe which only made her complain.
"Dad," she muttered as he placed her onto her bed, "I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"For yelling at you," she whispered. "I didn't want to."
"Forget about it," Sherlock replied. "Now go to sleep. Your mother wants to know why you won't go to Australia in the morning."
"You tell her," Alison complained, turning onto her side.
"I'm not facing her wrath. You can do that."
...
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviews and remember to let me know what you think so far! Reviews really are encouraging!