Etheldrea studied the teapot in her hands carefully, cradling it gently. She took note of the small crack running down the side, and the chip in the handle. She set the pot down and wrote down her findings on a sheet of paper. She picked up the pot again and searched for any imperfections she could have missed.
It was her first day working under Soo Lin Yao, and she wanted to make sure she did it perfectly. Soo had tasked her with observing a few of the tea sets.
"Miss Holmes, how old do you believe this particular pot is?" Soo asked as she supervised.
"Three hundred at the very least. Four hundred at most."
"How do you know?"
"The clay used to make this pot. Red Stone and Sandstone. It was used often in the Shang Dynasty age."
"Very good. Now, is there anything you can tell me of the pot's history?"
"Well, that would be nearly impossible if it weren't for the symbol on the bottom of the pot. I've also read a few books on Ancient Asian symbolism. The markings on the underside mean General and family. From that I can infer that this pot was served to an Ancient General, and his family."
"You're very intelligent Miss Holmes. I believe good things are in store for your future."
Etheldrea ran alongside John as they chased after the escaping suspect. They ducked down alleys, around garbage bins, and around fences. They were close behind him when he turned right at a building.
"Slow down, move off to the left!" Etheldrea yelled to John.
"Why?" he asked, but followed her instructions.
John got his answer soon enough. As they rounded the corner, there was a clatter of steel on pavement. The suspect fell to the ground, Sherlock standing behind him holding a plank of wood. Lying next to the suspect was a steel pipe.
"It's about time you two got here, I've been waiting ages." Sherlock said.
Etheldrea rolled her eyes with John.
"We were a bit busy chasing after him." John said pointing to the unconscious man.
"You should have chased him to the alley over a hundred meters back, would have saved everyone some time."
"Well sorry, but we couldn't exactly steer him in the right direction."
"SHERLOCK!" Lestrade called, running over to them.
"Inspector, as you can see, we apprehended the criminal."
"Thanks." He turned and called over his shoulder, "Donavan, come make the arrest."
Etheldrea walked away from the group as Lestrade began to question Sherlock. She watched the criminal where he laid, a small trail of blood above his eyebrow. She glanced up and looked down the backstreets where she and John had run, wondering slightly how she still had the energy to do so after her long day.
While she, and everyone else, were distracted the suspect slowly regained consciousness. As he regained his focus, he pretended to still be under. When he thought he was fine, in a flash he stood and started running. He grabbed a broken glass bottle off the ground and made a grab for Etheldrea.
She dodged out of the way, but he was able to grab the lapels of her coat, and the back collar of her shirt. She fell from the sudden stop, and he stood her up while holding the bottle to her neck.
"One move and this pretty little thing is gone." He threatened.
Etheldrea winced as the sharp bits of glass poked under her jaw. Her hands were under his arm in and attempt to push him away. She didn't panic though, waiting for her opportunity. She wasn't going to be the victim this time again.
"Ok, ok." Lestrade said, "Just calm down. Let her go."
He tightened his grip, "Not a chance. I'm going free, or she goes to the grave."
"We can't do that."
"Too bad."
He shifted his grip from around her collar to her shoulder. That idiot.
Now was the perfect opportunity for her. Simultaneously, she pushed his hand away and used the heel of her boot to step on his foot. He let go of her shoulder, and she turned to face him, using the same brown boot to kick him backwards. He fell back, and she ran away from him.
John grabbed and pulled her close, "Are you alright?"
"Fine. Perfectly fine."
"Gain a friend?" Sherlock asked.
"Oh yes, he's lovely."
"Sherlock." John said sternly.
He glared at the man as Lestrade and Donavan put the handcuffs on him. He pushed her back and over towards the cars. John tilted her head back and looked at her jaw.
"You've got a few cuts, nothing horrible, and nothing bleeding." He told her.
"Good. Can we go to Baker Street now?"
"As soon as Sherlock's finished talking with Lestrade I'm sure."
Etheldrea leaned against a car and folded her arms.
"How did you know he would wait? The criminal I mean?"
"Better safe than sorry. It happened once before, and the suspect got away."
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear."
"Don't be. Lestrade caught him a few days later."
"So Scotland Yard's not completely useless." John laughed.
Etheldrea smirked, "He only caught him because dad learned about the hide-out."
Sherlock walked up to the two of them, "Either of you fancy take-out?"
"The great Sherlock Holmes is actually going to eat?" Etheldrea asked, "Why, you haven't done that in days."
"Ha. Ha. The case is done, and I'm starving."
"Then I suppose we can. What do you think John?"
"Sounds perfect, only if I get the fortune cookies."
"So how's the museum project going? You're there every other day, right?" John asked Etheldrea.
"Every other day, yes. It's great, it's absolutely fantastic. Soo Lin is a great mentor. I get to use the teapots. Did you know some of them are over four hundred years old? I'm literally holding history in my hand."
"That's great. Do you fancy getting a job there?"
"Maybe. I tried a few years back, but they said I was too young. Besides, a job at the museum for someone my age would no doubt be a janitor."
"But you hope to work for law enforcement, right?"
"Yes. Scotland Yard needs somebody with brains."
Sherlock scoffed, "Why would you want to work for those idiots? You'd be beneath Donavan."
"But with time, I could be on the same level as her, if not above her."
"When you apply, you should be on the same level as Lestrade."
Etheldrea smiled at the complement as she ate her spicy chicken.
"How long have you wanted to work in law enforcement?" John asked.
"Years. As soon as I could comprehend the world. And as soon as I realized we were faster than Scotland Yard."
"So you are a consulting detective."
"Not at all." Sherlock said, "She's not allowed."
Etheldrea rolled her eyes, "I'm not allowed a title. I can help yes, but he forbids that I take on a title. I'd attract far too much attention, although it's impossible to do that with Uncle Mycroft watching my every move."
"What?" John asked.
"Highest level of surveillance. It's bloody annoying. Anyway, he's the worlds' only consulting detective. I'm just below his assistant."
"In the past six months, how often have you been part of a case?" Sherlock asked.
"Eight."
"Compared to twenty-seven."
"So I haven't helped with that many cases? What's the big deal?"
"You used to help on every case." He mumbled, sulking back.
"Well, that was before secondary school."
"You're passing all you're classes with straight A's."
Etheldrea rolled her eyes, then stood and picked up her trash. She walked over to a bin and dumped, then walked out the door. John watched her, and looked at Sherlock, expecting him to do something.
"She can be such a child." Sherlock muttered.
"She can be a child? What's childish about caring for her grades?"
"She's always been a straight A student. She would have the ability to move up a grade level, but she chooses to stay in the same age group."
John shook his head, stood with his trash, and went to throw it out. Then he walked out and followed after Etheldrea. She was walking down the street, and she took a right.
John ran after her, "Etheldrea wait!"
She turned and slowed down, waiting for him. When John caught up, he held out his arm which she took in hers.
"Are you alright? You walked out of there quickly." He asked.
"I'm fine, he just gets infuriating sometimes. I mean, it's my life, I can do what I want."
"Of course."
"If I want to focus on grades, I can. If I want to solve cases, I can. He's never happy."
"Unless it involves making him happy."
"Exactly."