"I'd be lost without my blogger."

— Sherlock Holmes

Chapter Seven:

"Okay, Leona can you read that for me?" John asked gently, pointing to the title on the Daily Star newspaper. The girl frowned, sinking in his lap. "C'mon, it's not that hard. Just try."

Leona gave a small huff, squinting at the paper, "D... Dare-re... St... Stir... Darey Stir?"

"Close," John smiled at her attempt. "'Daily Star'."

Leona pouted, turning away from the man, "Leona no like Darey Stir." The sound of the door creaking open made the girl shoot up.

"Can't you teach her to not speak in third person? It's irritating," Sherlock said, moving to his chair, as the girl ran at him. He quickly sidestepped before she could collide into his chest and knock him down. Leona kicked off the coffee table and then jumped on the tall man's back.

John cackled at the scene as Sherlock struggled to push the girl the young girl off him. "Leona, 4; Sherlock, 0," John announced and the man shot a glare at him.

"She needs a leash," he grumbled, sitting at his table. Leona's eyes widened at the statement.

"'Leash'?!" She cried.

"Yes, so you can stop jumping on me!" Sherlock knew that arguing with the child was meaningless, it wasn't like she could understand what that was anyway.

Leona twisted her fingers, "Whitecoats give Leona leash when Leona bad..." She murmured, looking at the ground. This caught both of their attentions. "Leona sorry, Leona no mean to be bad..."

Noticing her sadness, John pulled her over, "It's okay, you weren't bad," he assured the girl. "In fact, Sherlock loves it when you do that, he just doesn't realize it yet."

"No I don't," the curly haired man deadpanned, but John smirked.

"See? That means he loves it. Why don't you give him another hug," he let the girl go and she ran at the man, jumping in his lap and squeezing her arms around his neck. He gagged at her abnormal strength. For a child probably no older than five or six, she was unreasonably strong.

Finally, he was able to pry her off, glaring at John the entire time, which he chuckled at, "5-0."

"Shut it," Sherlock hissed, putting he girl on the ground at his feet, he pulled his laptop up, easily going to his page for another case. Leona pulled out her wings, scratching at her feathers, scrunching up her nose and squinting.

The room went silent, only the sounds of clicking on a laptop and the occasional honking from a car could be heard, until finally, there was a knock at the door. "Leona go to your room," Sherlock ordered, shooing the girl away, she frowned, muttering illegible complaints that probably wasn't English before going to the guest room closing the door.

"Come in," John called, and then the door knob twisted open and in came a woman. Sherlock immediately began deducing her as John got up and greeted the woman. She had short hair cut in a boy's cut and was completely white and grey eyes. Her lips painted red, which completely contrasted her skin tone and hair color. She wore a starch white jacket and a loose black maxi skirt. Underneath her shirt was a grey tee-shirt which only peeked out from underneath the top. You didn't have to be a genius to tell she was a albino.

"Hello, I'm John Watson," John greeted, but the woman didn't pay him any mind. Instead she turned to Sherlock, who had now picked up his phone and began to swipe at it, searching for something.

"Holmes," the mysterious woman purred.

"Lorino," Sherlock replied drily.

"How long has it been? Five years?"

"Fifteen," Sherlock corrected. "And I was enjoying every second of it before you arrived back in my life after we agreed to never see each other again."

"Yes, yes," she nodded, as if recalling the memory. "I hear you've become a... What was it? Detective? How fascinating."

"Consulting detective," Sherlock corrected. "Why are you here, Verdana?"

John gave a troubled frown, "Wait, Verdana? As in the font?"

"Yes," the woman answered, as if she had been asked that question nearly every day. "I even have a brother named Times New Roman."

John chuckled, "Funny." The woman turned to him, giving him a flat look. He blinked, "O–Oh. You're serious... Wow. Uh..." He cleared his throat awkwardly, sitting up in his seat. "Do–Do you have a case for us, Ms. Lorino."

The woman gave a slight nod of her head, "Yes, I do," she turned back to Sherlock. "I'm sure you are aware of my career choice, Holmes."

"Working with my brother? Yes, I was made well aware," Sherlock grumbled.

"Then you already know of our... Predicament." Sherlock narrowed his dark eyes.

"No," he denied immediately.

"We aren't asking you to kill it, Holmes, we simply need it contained," Verdana explained. "All you have to do is find it for us, we'll do the rest."

"I assume when you say 'the rest', you refer to putting it down?" Sherlock glared.

"I–I'm sorry, I'm a bit lost. Fill me on the issue," John spoke up, giving the two confused looks.

"After you two came back from the Baskerville... Incident, there was a disappearance in one of the animals stationed there," Verdana explained. "All you have to do is simply look at the evidence and tell us what you think."

"And why can't Mycroft do this?" Sherlock demanded.

"Your brother is currently in Tanzania holding a very important meeting," she replied.

"Look, Ms. Lorino," John sighed, "Sherlock obviously doesn't want to help you find it so would you please leave."

The woman gave John a glare, but he returned it with a tight-lipped smile. "Withholding information can be considered treason against the country, Holmes," the woman said carefully. "If you have any clue where this thing is—"

"Even then I wouldn't have told you," Sherlock replied in a dull tone. "You lost on of your pets, why should I find it for you. In fact, if you hadn't tested on it in the first place then—"

"It was for science!"

Sherlock's crystal blue eyes narrowed at the albino woman, "Leave, Verdana."

"Since when do you care for failed science experiments, Sherlock?" Verdana demanded, "It's just an animal."

Sherlock tried not to glare at woman, "I said leave." Verdana and Sherlock had a staring contest for what seemed like forever, before she finally got up, grabbing her small bag and left, closing the door behind her.

After watch her car roll down the busy London street, John stood up. "I'm going to get Leona," John announced leaving the room. Sherlock didn't reply, he only continued working on his laptop, until Leona came in.

Sherlock barely glanced at the girl, "What's wrong with her?"

The girl twisted her thumbs, "Leona is 'it'...?" John froze, running a hand down his face.

"No, no you're not, Leona," John assured, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "That mean lady called you an it. If Sherlock and I didn't then she would take you away."

She nodded, "Leona is no it?" She beamed.

"Dear god, teach her to speak in first person!" Sherlock complained, setting his laptop on the table, "It's agitating!"

"She can barely speak English!" John shot back, "She needs to learn to speak full sentences first."

Leona looked at Sherlock and grinned, running over to jump on him. "Shee!" She smiled, squeezing the life out of him, her wings fluffing up with excitement. Sherlock groaned, trying to pry the girl off him and John chuckled.

"6-0."

"Shut up."