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Chapter 9
"Why do you insist on walking everywhere?" John asked in exasperation as he and Violet went shopping. They had been living at Baker St. for a few weeks, and a system had been formed in that time: John was in charge of the shopping. He didn't usually take Violet with him though. He wanted her to be at home with her father. They were still having trouble getting used to each other. John watched her as she walked on ahead of him. The only person who knew she was Sherlock's daughter besides himself and Mrs. Hudson was Molly Hooper, who had done a DNA test to be sure. She had taken the situation fairly well, and didn't ask too many questions. John was grateful for that. Violet was uncomfortable when questioned about anything.
"What did you say, John?" Violet called over her shoulder as she stopped walking.
"I said 'why do you insist on walking everywhere?'" Violet shrugged.
"I don't know. All I know is that I have been cooped up indoors for way too long." She gestured dramatically as she spoke, and John rolled his eyes at her.
"Always a drama queen," John muttered in response as they entered the shop they had been heading to. Between the two of them, the shopping was done quickly, and Violet was soon standing by John as they tried to pay for their items. Of course everything that could go wrong had to, and John eventually got fed up and left the store; the giggling twelve-year old trailing behind him. "It isn't funny," he insisted as they walked back home, but Violet kept her smile plastered on her face all the way to the flat.
When they arrived, Violet fell face-first onto the sofa. Then she kicked off her shoes; earning a sort of glare from Sherlock because she had left them so haphazardly on the floor. He didn't keep the flat tidy, but he did make sure clothing wasn't just left laying around. "You took your time," he said to John; turning his attention back to the book he was pretending to read.
"Yeah, I didn't get the shopping," John replied. Sherlock suddenly looked up.
"What? Why not?" Violet shifted on the sofa so she could speak.
"He had a row in the shop with a chip and PIN machine," she stated nonchalantly.
"You..." Sherlock started. "You had a row with a machine?"
"Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got cash?" The detective grinned in an almost mocking way.
"Take my card." As John went to get the card, Sherlock pushed a sword under his chair with his foot. Violet could see the movement. She just couldn't see what he had moved to hide.
"Are you coming, Violet?" John asked as he walked past. By way of response she lifted her hand and waved. John sighed and shook his head as he walked out the door.
As soon as John was gone again, Violet rolled over with a groan and hung upside-down off the side of the sofa. She watched her father as he sat casually in his chair with a book. It was hard for her to see the man as her father, but DNA tests didn't lie. His friend, Molly Hooper, had seen to that. She stared at him some more; wondering what her mother could've possibly seen in him.
Then, a grin spread wide on her face. She had seen what John hadn't noticed under the chair. She sat up and turned around to face him. "So where did the sword come from?" she asked with a tone of mischief in her voice. Sherlock didn't bother to look up, and that disappointed her. He was different from John. She could impress him with ease, but her father was too much like her to be surprised by the things she noticed.
Finally, he closed the book and leaned forward in his chair. He picked up the sword as he spoke to her. "All right then. Tell me how I got it," he challenged. Violet marched over, and took the blade from him with determination. She studied it for a moment, then looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. He raised one back, and Violet walked around the room; observing the sword carefully. Sherlock studied her as she did her studying. He observed the curious and thoughtful look in her eyes as her fingers traced along the blade nimbly and cautiously. Then he watched her as she glanced around the room; eyes darting till they finally rested on the mark on the table. She hurried over to get a closer look, and then she finally turned back to face him.
"Do assassins come here often?" she asked sarcastically. It took all of Sherlock's will power not to smile.
"Only when the weather's nice," he replied. She handed it back to him, and he pushed it back under the chair and took John's laptop to the nearby desk.
"That's John's," Violet stated; her voice sounding a bit defensive.
"Yes." Sherlock stared at the screen for a moment.
"Why don't you just use your own?" she asked as he typed in his first attempt at the password. It was wrong, but he wouldn't be discouraged. He suddenly felt that he had an audience to please, and a very judgemental one at that.
"Bedroom," he replied as he tried another password. It was correct, and he leaned back in his chair smugly as he waited for the computer to load. Just as the icons started to appear on the screen, the laptop was slammed shut, and he looked up at Violet's suddenly upset face.
"John doesn't like it when people mess with his stuff," she said sternly. "He always gets upset when I do it, and I'm sure he'll make no exception for you." Sherlock gazed at her in silence for a moment. She was just like him. She was stubborn and clever. She was also like John though. She had the same moral principle, and had a great sense for what was right and wrong. Sherlock had noticed it in the short time she and John had been living with him. It was little instances that he noticed, but combined together they provided enough evidence to conclude her morality. Sherlock blinked a few times, and realized Violet wasn't in the room anymore.
When she walked back in, she had his open laptop in her hands, and she set it down on the desk in front of him, unlocked. She smirked with pride at having been able to mimic his trick, and she stood behind him as he checked his emails. When John returned, they were both reading the most recent one, and John smiled at the two of them. It made him feel good to see them starting to get along, and he didn't say a word to interrupt until he had put away the shopping.
So sorry. This took awhile. Sorry it's also not very good. You see, this chapter was written, but before I could upload it, it somehow decided "I'm going to delete myself! Mwuahahahahaha!" So yeah, I had to do some rewriting and editing. I should have the next one up soon, but I am not going to write this whole episode (just saying). Anyway, hope you like this at least a little bit. Thanks for reading. Please leave a review.
