The Blind Banker part 7

Author's Note: I'm back! My old laptop broke so I was unable to write for quite a bit. However, courtesy of Christmas, I now have a new one! Back to regular updates- or as regular as my procrastination will allow.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or the show's affiliates. Elise was created by a highly caffeinated me in the midst of sleep deprivation: P

Happy Reading and Happy Holidays!

~TheCurlyGal6218

…

The group soon made their way back to the display room in the museum. Andy, the worker they had met earlier, was still there. Sherlock wasted no time with pleasantries. "Two men who travelled back from China were murdered, and their killer left them messages in the Hangzhou numerals."

Elise felt her body sway. She tilted over slightly, nearly careening right into John. Luckily, the army doctor caught her before she completely lost her balance. He gave her a concerned look, melding together with slight amusement. Elise's cheeks reddened.

"Sorry."

John waved her off with a yawn. "Soo Lin Yao's in danger." He said to the detective and the museum employee. "Now, that cipher – it was the same pattern as the others. He means to kill her as well."

Elise glanced around the spacious room. She realized quickly that she didn't have anything to offer this conversation. On top of that, she was still a bit sour at her father for dragging her out past midnight. This was the latest she had ever been out on a case. While she appreciated him not leaving her out and as much as she did like solving cases with him and John, sleep was a treasure. Especially for someone who was permanently exhausted like her. Despite this, she might as well look for clues.

As she continued her lazy survey of the room, she couldn't help but notice a grand case of beautifully crafted teapots. Elise drifted slowly away from the group.

Andy shrugged helplessly. "Look, I've tried everywhere: um, friends, colleagues. I-I don't know where she's gone. I mean, she could be a thousand miles away."

Sherlock stomped in exasperation. Talk about a huge setback. He turned to his left, expecting to see his daughter by his side, only to find that she wasn't there; she was examining something in a case a few meters back.

"Elise, what are you doing?" Sherlock scrubbed a hand down his face. Now wasn't the time to be admiring artifacts.

She snapped her head up at her name, removing her hand from the ancient clay. "I was looking at these."

"Looking at wha- " He trailed off as he saw what his daughter was so fascinated with. His lips quirked up in a small smile. Leave it to her to unintentionally find a lead in a seemingly dead end. He walked over slowly, one gloved hand extended in a point. "Clearly you weren't looking hard enough. Not observing." He slowly bent down, carefully examining the display. "Tell me more about those teapots." He said to Andy.

"Th-the pots were her obsession." Andy stuttered. "Um, they need urgent work. If-if they dry out, then the clay can start to crumble. Apparently you have to just keep making tea in them."

Elise frowned. She had never heard of such methods but supposed it made sense. However, there was still something a bit off. She pointed to the two pots on the shelf. "But if they need to be tended to and Soo Lin is gone, how are they still shining? Who could've possibly-."

The room fell silent as the realization dawned on everyone.

"Bingo." Sherlock whispered. "Yesterday only one of those pots was shining. Now there are two."

Andy agreed to let the group hide out in the museum restoration room until the person of interest arrived, so long as they were quiet and didn't break anything. Elise found herself in a rather uncomfortable position. She was wedged between Sherlock and John, the former sitting stoically up straight while the other slouched against the wall, eyes half closed. They had to be quiet, stealthy, or else they would scare her away. John snoring wouldn't help matters. Elise prodded him in the shoulder until his eyes snapped open, bleary and struggling to focus.

"Keep alert." Elise whispered softly. "She could get here any minute."

John sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "What time is it?"

Sherlock pulled out his phone. He had dimmed the screen's brightness substantially so that the light wouldn't give them away. Clever as always. Elise herself had out her own on silent. A simple precaution. "It's a quarter past two."

"It's late." Elise groaned. She buried her head into John's shoulder momentarily. "We should all be asleep."

"Please don't mention sleep." John said wearily. "It makes me even more tired."

"Oh quit your whining!" Sherlock snapped. "I believe that whatever is about to happen is much more important than that."

Elise snickered. "Easy for you to say. You can go days without rest. Some people actually need a couple hours to function like a normal human."

"Well my mind is more advanced. Now shut up. I need quiet."

Ten minutes went by. Then twenty. Thirty. An hour. Finally, after quite a bit of restless shuffling from all, footsteps echoed through the dark and strangely eerie room.

Elise watched as a shadowy figure emerged, illuminated only by the lights on the far side from their hiding place. The newcomer walked over to the display, got out the pots, and poured tea over the parched, cracking clay of the antique teapots. It was no other than Soo Lin- Yao, the woman they were looking for. She continued her expert work on the pots, oblivious to the trio lurking in the shadows of the room. Sherlock stood up slowly just as Ms. Yao was distributing the tea into two steaming cups.

"Fancy a biscuit with that?"

The woman gasped as she turned towards him, the teapot dropping from her shaking fingers. Sherlock reacted instantly and bent his knees to reach down and catch the teapot before it hit the floor. Success. He looked up at her.

"Centuries old. Don't wanna break that."

Sherlock slowly straightened up and handed the teapot back to Soo Lin. She took it and set it back down, flicking the lights under the table on as she did so. John and Elise emerged from the shadows, bones cracking back into place as they were freed from the confinement. John sat at one end of the table, Soo Lin at the other. Sherlock and Elise stood together at the head of the table.

"You saw the cipher." Ms. Yao finally spoke. "Then you know he is coming for me."

Sherlock tried to smile comfortingly. Well, as comfortingly as the consulting detective could manage. "You've been clever to avoid him so far."

"I had to finish ... to finish this work. It's only a matter of time. I know he will find me."

"Who is he? Have you met him before?"

She nodded. "When I was a girl, living back in China. I recognize his ... 'signature.'"

"The cipher."

"Only he would do this. Zhi Zhu."

"Zu Zu?" Elise questioned.

"Zhi Zhu," Sherlock corrected. "The Spider."

Soo Lin crossed her right leg over her left one. Then, she pulled off her shoe, extending her foot for them to see. "You know this mark?"

"Yes." Sherlock confirmed. "It's the mark of a Tong."

"Those are the people behind this right?" Elise asked.

"Precisely. Ancient crime syndicate based in China."

"Every foot soldier bears the mark; everyone who hauls for them." The oriental woman continued.

"Hauls?" John spluttered. "Y-you mean you were a smuggler?"

She lowered her gaze in shame and put her shoe back on. "I was fifteen. My parents were dead. I had no livelihood; no way of surviving day to day except to work for the bosses. They are called the Black Lotus. By the time I was sixteen, I was taking thousands of pounds' worth of drugs across the border into Hong Kong. But I managed to leave that life behind me. I came to England. They gave me a job here. Everything was good; a new life."

Elise was shocked. Never would she have expected this woman to have such a sad, bleak history. While it was obvious from the start that Soo Lin had some affiliation with The Black Lotus, never could Elise have made such grand deductions about Ms. Yao's childhood and what had brought her into the mix in the first place. "And… so now he's back. The-"

"Yes." She swallowed tearfully. Elise felt her heart breaking. The whole situation was just so terrible. By the look on John's face, he felt the same way. "I had hoped after five years maybe they would have forgotten me, but they never really let you leave. A small community like ours – they are never very far away."

She wiped tears from her face. "He came to my flat. He asked me to help him to track down something that was stolen."

John spoke up kindly. "And you've no idea what it was?"

"I refused to help."

John leaned forward towards the silently weeping Ms. Yao. "So you knew him well when you were living back in China?"

"Oh yes." A pause. "He's my brother."

The color drained from Elise's face. "Oh. My. God." Her sibling, flesh and blood, was coming after her with his smuggling ring. Not a happy family reunion at all.

"Two orphans. We had no choice. We could work for the Black Lotus, or starve on the streets like beggars. My brother has become their puppet, in the power of the one they call Shan – the Black Lotus general. I turned my brother away. He said I had betrayed him. Next day I came to work and the cipher was waiting."

Sherlock laid the photographs they had taken on the table. "Can you decipher these?"

Soo Lin leaned forward and studied the picture of Sir Williams' portrait for a moment. She pointed to the markings across the man's face. "These are numbers."

"Yes, I know."

Soo Lin pointed to another photo. "Here: the line across the man's eyes – it's the Chinese number one."

Sherlock pointed to another marking. "And this one is fifteen. But what's the code?"

Soo Lin looked up. "All the smugglers know it. It's based upon a book..."

Just then almost all the lights go out. Elise was alert immediately, blue eyes widening. She didn't dare move from Sherlock's side, instinctively inching closer to him as the quiet grew. John stared at them from across the room, in a similar state of fear as everyone else.

All the color had drained from Soo Lin's face. "He's here." She whispered shakily. "Zhi Zhu. He has found me."

And Sherlock was off, racing across the room, his coat like a trail of lightning behind him. Elise felt his absence almost immediately.

"Dad!" She whispers shouted. Sherlock charged out of the room. Elise made to follow him but a hand clamped down firmly on her arm, ceasing her movements.

"Come here." John hissed.

"I have to go after him!"

"No you have to be safe. You shouldn't have come anyway. I don't know why he would let you. Whether it's for experience or not, it's too dangerous"

"I-."

Gunfire. Two shots. Dread filled Elise's stomach like pure lead.

She turned back to John, tears threatening to spill. "John, what if he's hurt?"

John shoved Elise and Soo Lin inside a cupboard. "I have to go and help. Bolt the door after me. Don't do anything stupid, please." He hurried off, leaving the two ladies behind.

Elise focused on breathing, not on the tiny closet she was trapped in. Or the gunshots that continued to penetrate the air. Or the fact that Soo Lin was hopelessly crying beside her. She should've been comforting to the older woman, but she couldn't find words. They stuck to her sandpaper throat like molasses, refusing to form and release. Instead, Soo Lin looked to the younger girl, a tearful half smile on her face.

"Everything will be okay. Do you believe me?"

Elise didn't look her in the eye.

"Your father and that man… they will fix everything little one."

Elise let out a shaky breath. Then she finally looked up at Ms. Yao, chocolate eyes melding with the iciness of her own. "I sure hope so."

Soo Lin closed her eyes. Then, slowly and carefully, she inched her way out of the cupboard.

Elise grabbed her arm in alarm. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm going to finish deciphering the code."

Elise looked at her like she was insane. Perhaps she was. "Can't it wait?"

Soo Lin shook her head. "Stay here. It'll be fine. The shots were coming from downstairs so he won't be up here"

Elise watched in horror as Soo Lin inched out of their makeshift hiding place and into the danger of outside. There wasn't much she could do to stop her. If she tried, she would probably do more harm than good by making a ruckus. Instead, she waited a few moments before following the woman out of the cupboard. If Soo Lin was endangering her life for the cause, the least Elise could do was try and offer some assistance. No matter how close she was to fainting. She walked on hunter's feet, doing her very best to keep the noise of her footsteps as quiet as possible. Her heart was beating like a kick drum in her chest, each breath was painful and shuddering. In the horror movies, this was usually the part where the supernatural villain slayed the bumbling main characters bloodily and with no remorse. Elise realized, in that moment, that she was a bumbling main character.

The only difference was that this wasn't a fictional horror flick. This was her real life. Perhaps the true horror was that she was used to this.

Elise stopped walking when she heard voices. Through the dim, she could barely make out two figures.

Soo Lin was one. She could tell by the hair.

But Sherlock wasn't.

And neither was John.

Oh. God. That means…

There was a gunshot. Soo Lin fell to the ground.

It took all Elise's strength not to run. Running, usually would help her in these situations, but not now. Not when the only place to run was straight into the line of fire. The path of a real gun. Not a fake like last time.

Keep calm.

Breathe deep.

Don't move. Move and you will die.

Oh my God.

Elise watched frozen, not daring to move a muscle, as the second figure placed something in the palm of Soo Lin's splayed out hand. Her lifeless hand. Then, with a final glance, he sped away into the dark.

And Elise stood there. She didn't panic. She didn't cry. She didn't gasp for air.

She was frozen in terror. Shock. A cocktail of emotions stirred throughout her body like a burst of Novocain, numbing her to the core.

Another one dead.

Yet another life lost.

Elise heard more footsteps coming towards her. The dull yet distinct sound jolted her back to life, tore her gaze away from the motionless body. She felt herself moving forward on autopilot until strong arms wrapped around her shoulders. Stopping her from moving any further.

Dad. Safety. Warmth.

"Elise." He said firmly. "Are you alright?"

Elise looked up into his eyes.

"She's dead."

A pause.

"I'm aware."

"He…"

Elise stole a glance at Soo Lin. There was an origami flower in her hand.

Another pause

"Black Lotus." Elise whispered

"Yes."

"How many murders is it going to take before you start believing that this maniac's out there?"

The trio stood in front of DI Dimmock. Sherlock seemed unfazed by the prior events at the museum, only increasingly annoyed as more idiots were thrown in his way. Elise had only recovered from her shock slightly. After all, witnessing a cold blooded murder didn't do wonders for her mental health. As for John, most of his weariness had vanished, replaced with white hot anger at the injustice.

"A young girl was gunned down tonight. That's three victims in three days. You're supposed to be finding him."

Sherlock walked in front of John to get closer to Dimmock. John stepped back and walked a few paces away in exasperation.

"Brian Lukis and Eddie Van Coon were working for a gang of international smugglers – a gang called the Black Lotus operating here in London right under your nose." Sherlock chastised. He leaned closer to Dimmock to emphasize his last point. Dimmock finally looked round to him.

"Can you prove that?"

Sherlock, true to his nature, managed to sweet talk Molly Hooper into letting them use the bodies of the first two victims as evidence. The group took the lift up to the labs at Bart's, one of the most awkward rides of her life. She again found herself in a highly uncomfortable position, stuck between the DI and the glass wall. It was a wonder she stopped herself from saying anything that would make Mycroft chastise her for bad manners. Thankfully, her pain was short lived as they reached the correct floor rather quickly.

Elise had become quite familiar with Molly's laboratory. When she was younger, she would wait in here with the mousy little pathologist while her father experimented in some of the other rooms. On the days she did paperwork, Molly would set little Elise up in a chair near her with crayons and blank paper from the printer. They would work, side by side, until her father came to collect her. As she got older, she would usually bring a book or her homework from school to keep her occupied. Even now that she was mature enough to watch herself, Elise would still pop in when she came in with Sherlock. Molly was amazing.

It was a shame that her father took advantage of her so often.

The pathologist set down the two body bags on adjacent tables. Then, wearing latex gloves, she unzipped the top of one of the bags and pulled the sides apart to reveal the face of Brian Lukis.

"We're just interested in the feet." Sherlock explained.

Molly frowned. "The feet?"

"Yes. D'you mind if we have a look at them?"

"It may seem like an odd request but I assure you it's important." Elise piped up. She remembered the marking on her foot Soo Lin had shown them earlier. If these two men were a part of The Black Lotus, it was reasonable to think that they would have similar markings on them.

With a winning smile thrown in the pathologist's direction, Sherlock led Dimmock to the other end of the body bag. Molly followed him, blushing slightly at the attention. She unzipped the bag at that end, pulling the sides back to reveal the bottom of Lukis' feet. Sure enough, on the bottom of the right heel was a tattoo identical to the one which Soo Lin revealed earlier. Sherlock straightened up, a smug expression on his face, and walks over to the other table.

"Now Van Coon."

Molly and Dimmock followed him to the second table and she unzipped the other body bag. Van Coon too had the mark on his right heel.

Elise couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. Finally, this idiot will listen to us! "Wow. You can really smell the awkward. Is that a new cologne Detective Inspector?"

Dimmock shuffled his feet. "So..."

The consulting detective rolled his eyes. "So either these two men just happened to visit the same Chinese tattoo parlor or I'm telling the truth."

"What do you want?"

"I want every book from Lukis' apartment and Van Coon's."

Elise perked up.

"Their books?"

It was almost five in the morning. Elise was about ready to collapse. The only thing keeping her awake was the promise of books. Beautiful, lovely books. And the quick power nap she had taken in the cab home.

As soon as they got to 221b, Elise headed straight for the kitchen. She set a pot of water to boil for coffee, making sure they weren't out before she got to excited. If she planned on keeping up with the boys, she would need all the stimulant she could get.

When the brew was done, she plopped a spoonful of sugar in her blue mug and took a slow sip. Her mouth pulled into a grimace. Black coffee was god awful, but the strength would definitely do the trick. She started making another cup for John, opting not to prepare one for her father as he probably wouldn't take. He claimed digestion slowed him down.

When she turned around to head back into the living room, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her father had miraculously appeared at the dining room table, tapping furiously into his laptop. Or was it John's? Whatever the case, she hadn't expected him.

"I didn't even hear you come in." Elise said with a relieved breath. "You scared the living daylights out of me."

Sherlock didn't respond for a minute, still tapping into the computer. "I tend to have that effect on people." He finally said.

"I'll say."

Elise sat down across from her dad, setting her cup down on the table beside her. She took a sip of the piping hot liquid, feeling tiny pinpricks of pain dash across her tongue as the terrible taste washed over her. Elise longed for her syrup sweet coffee she usually made, the kind that diabetics would line up around the corner for.

"Why are you drinking that if you clearly hate it?" Sherlock asked out of nowhere.

Elise looked up in surprise. "I'm trying to stay awake. This is liquid crap without my usual fix ins but it does the trick."

He looked up from the screen, eyebrows raised. "If you're tired you realize that you don't have to come right? I think it's safe to say that you've had enough experience for the weekend."

Elise thought about all that had happened since Sherlock took on this case. Three dead bodies, a murder, several panic attacks, fear for her own life and the lives of John and Sherlock. Even with all that, she was still deeply interested in continuing. For her, solving cases was like reading a story. She needed to see how each would end. Otherwise, she would be left with dissatisfaction and a ton of pointless terrible memories.

"I think I'll stick around. I can catch up on sleep later and school isn't until tomorrow."

The elder Holmes looked at his daughter. Elise could tell he was making deductions by the way his eyes moved over her, the blue irises much like her own shifting from side to side. "Suit yourself." He turned back to his work.

Not long afterwards, the detective made a breakthrough. His head shot up, curls bouncing over his forehead. "Come look." He beckoned his daughter over to him. Elise sprang up from her seat, abandoning her drink as she went to go see what the fuss was about. Sherlock was looking on Crispians' website for recent auctions, focusing on the auctions of Chinese and other Asian works of art.

"Check for the dates..." he murmured as he skimmed through a load of search results.

"It would have to be very recent." Elise said as she scanned the page. "Definitely sometime this week."

"Just here." He pointed to a particular auction lot – two Chinese Ming vases. "Arrived from China four days ago. John, come look at this!"

The short blonde veteran bumbled into the room, looking as tired as ever. His hair was mussed, his jumper slightly wrinkled.

"What is it." He walked over to the two, picking up the mug Elise had forgotten to give him earlier. "This for me?"

"Yeah. Sorry I forgot about it." She said sheepishly.

"No worries. Thanks. Now what are you jabbering on about?"

Sherlock gestured him over. John crouched down to see the screen, squinting as he focused.

Sherlock ran his finger down the details and looks at the Sale Information at the bottom which includes the statement "Source - Anonymous. Vendor doesn't give his name. Two undiscovered treasures from the East."

"Arrived only four days ago." Elise added. "It's them."

The pieces clicked together in John's mind. "One in Lukis' suitcase and one in Van Coon's."

Sherlock moved to the Quest search site and typed into the search bar, narrating as he does so. "... antiquities sold at auction." The results list was up in a flash. "Look, here's another one. Arrived from China a month ago: Chinese ceramic statue, sold four hundred thousand."

John consulted Lukis' diary at that new revelation. He turned to a dog eared page. "Ah, look: a month before that – a Chinese painting, half a million."

"All of them are anonymous." Elise chimed in. "They aren't revealing their identities to keep The Black Lotus from being exposed. They're stealing them in China then selling them here."

John looked at Lukis' diary again and then at the printout of Van Coon's calendar. "And every single auction coincides with Lukis or Van Coon travelling to China."

Sherlock continued scrolling. "So what if one of them got greedy when they were in China? What if one of them stole something?"

"That's why Zhi Zhu's come."

"He wants revenge."

There was a knock on the living room door. "Ooo- Ooo!" Mrs. Hudson.

The group turned to look at her.

"Sorry. Are we collecting for charity, Sherlock?"

"What?" Sherlock asked puzzled.

"A young man's outside with crates of books."

Shortly afterwards, two uniformed police officers were carrying in yet another plastic crate to add to the many which have already been dumped. The living room could now easily pass as a storing facility.

Elise perched on one of the large boxes by the couch. "So, the numbers are references."

John leaned against another. "To books."

Sherlock nodded. "To specific pages and specific words on those pages."

"Right, so ... fifteen and one: that means..."

"Turn to page fifteen and it's the first word you read."

"So what book is it?" Elise asked.

Sherlock scoffed. "Well that's the cunning of the book code daughter dearest. Has to be one that they both owned."

Elise groaned. "So we have to look through all of these? That's going to take centuries."

Sherlock walked over to one of the humongous crates. He flipped open the lid and started pulling some out. "Better get working then."

Elise sighed and stood up. She looked around despairingly at the many, many crates in the room, each either labelled "Van Coon" or "Lukis." They had a lot of work ahead of them. She went over to the nearest crate and flipped open the lid, sighing tiredly when he sees the amount of books inside. She scooped up as much as she could carry, then brought the load over to the nearest couch.

John opened another crate and started taking out books, looking at the cover of each one. John takes a handful from his crate and carries them over to the dining table and sits down.

Dimmock walked in, in all his glory, and held up an evidence bag to Sherlock. "We found these, at the museum." He showed the bag to John. It contained the photographs of the cipher which Sherlock had been showing to Soo Lin. "Is this your writing?"

John took the bag. "Uh, we hoped Soo Lin could decipher it for us. Ta."

Dimmock nodded and turned back to Sherlock, who was still unloading his crate. "Anything else I can do? To assist you, I mean?"

Sherlock didn't look up. "Some silence right now would be marvelous."

Dimmock stared at him, bewildered, then looked across to John, who shook his head apologetically. Then Dimmock turned to Elise. "Farewell little Holmes."

Elise took a deep breath. Don't punch him. You'll go to jail.

Elise continued to rummage.

4 hours later

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. All three of them had found books that the two men both owned but none of the matches gave any clue for the case. They had again reached another dead end.

Elise slammed another book closed. She looked around. There were piles of books everywhere. Paperbacks, hardbacks, magazines; you name it. It was like a library had eaten too much and then promptly regurgitated the excess into 221b. John was sat at the dining room table with his head in his hands. Elise's father was stood up, not any less tired than he was when they started. Just plain annoyed.

Elise herself could do with a 2-year nap.

"Well," she began. "I'm exhausted. I don't know about you two but I think I'll take a rest.

She stood up from her spot on the sofa and headed to the stairs. The teenager couldn't remember the last time she was this exhausted. Her bed would be as good as heaven right now. When she got to her room, she clawed her hair out of its ponytail and shook out the messy black curls. Then she flopped onto her bed to sleep.

Buzz. Buzz

Elise groaned and turned over.

Buzz.

She pulled the pillow over her head.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzzzzzz

"What the hell?" Elise whined. "Just when I'm about to sleep someone decides it would be a great time to chat!" She grabbed the phone from her pocket and pressed the answer button without looking. "Hello? What is it?"

"Hey it's me."

Elise closed her eyes, trying to squash some of her irritation.

"Oh. Hi Leo. Look, now really isn't a good time."

"Oh ok. Umm… I just needed to ask you something…"

"Alright. Fine. I'm listening." So much for sleep.

"Can you meet me at the park later today? Around 7?"

"Well, I'm kind of busy helping my dad but… Sure, I guess. I can try."

"Perfect."

"Why can't you just tell me over the-."

Click.

Elise sighed and flopped back on the bed. She had a feeling that she would regret that decision. That boy was getting weirder by the day…

"Elise. Get up!"

The teen woke up to someone shaking her shoulder. Through bleary eyes, she looked up to see what all the fuss was about. It was Mrs. Hudson.

"What is it?"

The old woman straightened up. "You've been sleeping all day! That father of yours better stop working you so hard. Anyhow, I came to tell you that some little boy is at the door for you. He says that you two had plans but you never turned up."

Elise sat up in the bed, her hair sticking up in all directions. "Plans? Who could possibly…Oh no."

"What is it dearie?"

Elise shook her head. "It's nothing Mrs. Hudson. Just a friend from school. I'll take care of it."

The landlady gave her a worried look. "Alright then. Just shout if he gives you any trouble. He seems a bit off that one."

Elise laughed. "Yeah."

Mrs. Hudson left the room with a last smile, shutting the door behind her. Elise sighed tiredly. Although she felt a bit bad about forgetting Leo, she didn't see why he had to come to her house. It was bordering on stalking. How did he even get her address anyway? Most likely Christina but you never knew.

Elise smoothed her haywire curls down and wiped the sleep out of her eyes. It was time to do some damage control. She padded down the stairs, still wearing her same clothes from yesterday, feeling much more refreshed than she had this morning.

When she got to the living room, Leo was crouched in front of the guinea pig cage. He was fiddling with the latch, trying to get it open and failing miserably. Gizmo cowered in the corner, absolutely terrified of the boy. Elise raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe. "He doesn't like new people much."

Leo stood up quickly at her voice, almost seeming embarrassed. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah…um."

The furry fiend started squeaking at the sound of his real owner's voice. Elise walked over to the cage and opened the latch, petting the black and white animal. She noticed that his bowl was empty and his water bottle was murky with little bits of filth. It needed to be cleaned.

Elise closed the cage door again. She unhooked the water bottle with a grimace. "Come with me to the kitchen." Elise said to Leo.

He nodded and the pair set off to the kitchen, Leo sitting down in one of the dining room chairs. Elise walked over to the sink, opening the top of the bottle and filling it with water and soap. The two continued in awkward silence, running water and Gizmo's squeaking being the only sounds in the flat. Finally, Leo broke the silence.

"You blew me off."

Elise continued washing, keeping her face neutral. Guilt stirred in the depths of her stomach. "I was asleep. Lost track of time."

"Yeah. Ok fine."

Elise snickered. "Sorry. What was so important anyway?"

Leo shrugged. "Nothing really."

Elise stopped momentarily. She put down her washcloth. "Then why the hell did you come to my house." She laughed. "I didn't even give you my address!"

Leo's face flushed. "Ok… if I'm being real honest…"

Elise raised her eyebrow. "What?"

"I was wondering if you would like to be my girlfriend."

Oh. Oh no. Bloody hell.

"Um… wow." Elise stammered. She could feel her face heating. "You see; the thing is…"

How the fuck am I supposed to say no without being mean? I don't want to kill him or anything. Why isn't there some type of guide explaining how to do this? Where is dad when you need him? Now would be a great time for him to whisk me away for a case.

"Um…"

Speed it up Holmes!

I'm sure you're a very nice guy but, I just don't like you like that."

"Oh."

"I'm so sorry."

Leo looked absolutely crestfallen. As a matter of fact, he looked almost… angry? The veins in his neck protruded angrily through his deeply tan skin. His jaw clenched and his eyes crackled with a raging fire. If looks could kill, Elise would be harshly dismembered and stuffed into trash bags.

Oh my lord he's fucking pissed. Good going dummy.

"I'm just gonna go then. Have a nice day Holmes." And with that he stormed out of the flat.

What the actual fuck just happened?

Elise stood for a couple seconds, too shocked by Leo's actions to get her brain functioning normally. The weirdness in science class, the awkward run in and hug at the library, the phone calls and texts; he had a crush on her. Leo Henrik, a boy she had barely met, had a crush on her. And she didn't feel the same. She most definitely did not feel the same and she felt bad. Extremely bad. As a matter of fact, she felt sick. Really sick. And why did she feel sick? Because he hadn't been sad when she rejected him. He was livid. If she had learned anything from working with Sherlock, it was that livid and love do not mix. Elise had a sinking suspicion that this wasn't over.

Oh my god.

She heard the front door slam closed.

Once, she had gotten over the initial shock, she realized too late that she had left the tap water running. The sink was now filling with water, clogged up by the washcloth she had carelessly set down. Elise quickly shut off the tap and unplugged the drain. That could've been messy. She picked up her cloth again only to find little stains of red scattered across the surface. Blood. Elise looked down at her hands. Apparently she had been picking without even realizing.

"Damn."

Ten minutes and several bandages later, Elise was sat on her bed. She needed answers and there were only two people who could give her some. One was definitely not an option. The second just might work.

New message to contact: Christina

Hey I need to ask you something- EH

Ask away- CB

So… Leo just asked me out- EH

OMFG -CB

DID YOU SAY YESSSSS?- CB

YOU BETTER HAVE SAID YES- CB

I said no. -EH

…- CB

Ur fucking kidding me right- CB

No I'm not. I don't like him like that. – EH

It was so weird though. He got all pissed and stormed out. -EH

Wait… he went to ur house? -CB

Wtf- CB

That's a bit creepy- CB

Yeah. I was supposed to meet him at the park but I was asleep and forgot so he came to my house. -EH

Did you give him my address? -EH

No…- CB

Oh- EH

Elise's stomach dropped. If Christina didn't give him the address, then who did?

Ok I'll tell you the rest later. Someone just got here- EH

Ok loser XD Bye. Don't get murdered- CB

Elise didn't feel any better after that conversation. As a matter of fact, she felt even more unsettled by the whole thing. Why was her life so strange?

Just then, her father busted into her room- without knocking of course.

"Come on. New developments."

Elise brushed the Leo situation to the side. She would have to worry about that later.

"Where are we going?"

Sherlock tossed her a pair of gloves. She started pulling them on over her banged up hands.

"A circus. Get your coat."

Sherlock and Elise were walking up a slope towards a building. The London night was experiencing fairly decent weather. It wasn't too cold, just chilly enough to make her nose and cheeks turn a bit pink. Not many people were on this part of town surprisingly. It was rather odd being that it was hardly past seven. Elise at least expected to see some shoppers scurrying home from the stores or some older kids loitering in the alleyways.

"So we're crashing John's date because you think that The Black Lotus is running this circus?"

Her father adjusted his scarf around his neck. "I don't think that they're running it. I know for a fact that they are."

"And how's that?"

"I found a ticket for the show in one of the books. Isn't it a bit odd that the two men who were killed had a copy of a Chinese circus ticket held only a few days after they were murdered? Bit too much of a coincidence."

Elise nodded. "Fair enough. I still feel bad about intruding on his date though. He deserves to have some time for himself."

Sherlock looked down to his daughter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Elise shrugged. "You can be a bit demanding at times dad. Sometimes people need a break."

The consulting detective frowned. "He is under no obligation to accompany me on cases. And neither are you. Both of you could easily decline if you don't feel up for it."

"I didn't mean that we don't want to come." Elise explained quickly. "I love cases, even if they do scare me. I was just saying that… sometimes a little time away is good. That's all."

"Hmm." Sherlock grunted.

Elise sighed. "It's not a bad thing."

When they got closer to the building, Elise saw a string of red lanterns hung around the outside. Black Chinese lettering adorned each individual one. A few people walked inside the building, murmuring in excitement at the show they were about to see. When she and Sherlock got inside, there were even more lanterns, smaller ones strung from the hallway's ceiling. They illuminated the place magnificently, putting beauty in an otherwise tense situation. It was too bad that this was the work of murderous smugglers. She would've appreciated it more.

As she and her father approached the box office, Elise spotted John and a pretty brunette woman standing at the counter.

John was talking to the man at the window. "No, I don't think so. We only booked two."

"And then I phoned back and got two for Elise and I." Sherlock chimed in.

John looked up in disbelief and turned as Sherlock walked over to them, looking at John's date. He offered her his hand.

"I'm Sherlock."

"And I'm Elise. His daughter. Hello." Elise said awkwardly.

The woman glanced at John momentarily, then turned back to the new arrivals. She took the offered hand and shook it nervously.

"Er, hi. My name's Sarah."

"Hello." He gave her a fake smile and then promptly walked away.

Elise followed after mouthing a hurried sorry in John's direction.

Not long afterwards, Elise and the boys were standing a few steps up the stairs while people made their way past them. Sarah had run off to use the facilities. Sherlock and John were having a bit of an argument and Elise was growing weary of it.

"You couldn't let me have just one night off?" John hissed

"See dad? I told you. People need a break sometime."

"Well excuse me daughter dearest but Yellow Dragon Circus, in London for one day. It fits. The Tong sent an assassin to England ..."

"…dressed as a tightrope walker." John scoffed. "Come on, Sherlock, behave!"

Sherlock did anything but. "We're looking for a killer who can climb, who can shin up a rope. Where else would you find that level of dexterity? Exit visas are scarce in China. They need a pretty good reason to get out of that country. Now, all I need to do is have a quick look round the place ..."

"Fine. You do that; I'm gonna take Sarah for a pint."

"I need your help!"

"You have Elise! She's just as good as you are…"

"Not nearly." Sherlock interrupted.

"Oi!" Elise protested

"Well she's better than me and I do have a couple of other things on my mind this evening!"

"Like what?"

John stared at him in disbelief. "You are kidding." Then he turned to the younger Holmes. "He is kidding, right?"

Elise sucked in a breath. "He's skilled in many things. This area is not one of them."

John furrowed his eyebrows. "How did he end up with you then?"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "It wasn't planned if that's what you're asking…"

Elise shuddered. "Ew no. Please, stop before I puke. That is not something I want to be thinking about!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. Then he turned back to John, who was trying and failing to not lose his patience. "What's so important?"

"Sherlock, I'm right in the middle of a date. D'you want me to chase some killer while I'm trying to ..." he stopped for a moment.

"What?"

John finally snapped. "While I'm trying to get off with Sarah!"

And right on cue, Sarah came around the corner at that moment. John turned to her and smiled awkwardly, as if he hadn't said the most embarrassing thing he could have possibly said in front of her.

"Hey."

Sherlock rolled his eyes yet again and the group headed up the stairs, John internally kicking himself and Elise desperately trying not to burst in a fit of giggles

In the performance area, there was a stage on one side of the large hall with the curtains closed. However, it seemed that the stage wasn't going to be used: a circle of candles was laid out in the middle of the floor, about thirty feet in diameter. The room was dimly lit. The patrons were gathering around the circle of candles as there were no seats provided. Apparently the number of tickets was limited, allowing there to be room for everyone to have a clear view. Sarah and John stood side by side, Elise talking post on John's left. Sherlock stood a few feet back, looking all around the room and peering up to the ceiling. John spoke quietly over his shoulder to his flat mate, turning his head away from Sarah so that she couldn't hear.

"You said circus. This is not a circus. Look at the size of this crowd. Sherlock, this is ..." he grimaced in disgust. "... art."

Elise nudged the former soldier in the arm. "There's nothing wrong with art. Even if it is produced by criminals."

"No, sorry, I forgot." John sniffed without humor. "They're not a circus; they're a gang of international smugglers!"

The performance began with someone tapping out a rhythm on a tiny hand drum. Sherlock turned to face the same way as his companions. An ornately costumed Chinese woman with a heavily painted face – traditionally known as the Opera Singer – walked into the center of the circle and looked imperiously out at the audience before raising a hand in the air. The drummer finished his riff. The Opera Singer walked across the circle to a large object covered with a cloth. She pulled the sheet back to reveal an antique-looking crossbow on a stand. She picked up a long, thick wooden arrow with white feathers at one end and a vicious metal point at the other and showed it to the audience before fitting it into place in the crossbow.

Straightening up, she pulled a single small white feather from her headdress and again, lifted it to the audience. On the rear of the crossbow, there was a tiny metal cup. The opera singer dropped the feather into the cup and quick as a flash, the arrow released.

Elise whipped her head around, watching as the arrow whipped past her line of vision and into a painted board on the other end of the room. She let out a breath of relief.

The audience roared with applause.

Instrumental music began as a new character entered the circle, wearing chainmail and an ornate head mask. Two men led him over to a slab of wood, embedded with tiny scuff marks. The heavily costumed man put his arms stiffly to his sides. Then, the other two brutes started securing him against the board with chains and thick strips of leather.

"Classic Chinese escapology act." Elise heard her father say from behind.

All three of them turned around.

"What?"

"The crossbow is on a delicate string." Sherlock explained. "The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires."

Elise's eyes widened. She turned back around. "If he doesn't then… he's dead."

She felt like she would be sick. Too much death in one weekend.

The Opera Singer loaded another arrow into the crossbow. The men who had secured the participant in attached more padlocks and chains. One of them pulled a chain tight, yanking the warrior's head back against the board. The warrior cried out. Ignoring this, the men looped the chains through solid rings attached to the board fastened in the unlucky warrior, who cried out again.

Elise grimaced. It was extremely hard to watch.

Once they finished, they stepped away from the board. The music, just a background noise at first, built in intensity. Cymbals crashed, the drums beat louder.

Sarah jumped. "Oh, God! I'm sorry!" She laughed in embarrassment, taking John's arm. John laughed with her, then smiles delightedly as she lets go with her more distant hand but continues to hold onto his arm with the other.

Elise turned around to her father, who was looking at the couple with a disgusted expression. Elise wiggled her eyebrows at him playfully. Sherlock rolled his eyes and Elise laughed and turned back around.

The Opera Singer picked up a small knife and displayed it to the audience.

Her father began quietly explaining from behind. "She splits the sandbag; the sand pours out; gradually the weight lowers into the bowl."

The Opera Singer does just what Sherlock predicted – she reached up to a small sandbag hanging on a long cable and stabbed the knife into the bottom of the sack. Sand began to pour out, and the warrior repeatedly cries out with effort as he tugs at his chains. The clock on his life was ticking. The sandbag's cable is looped over a pulley and a metal ball is attached to the other end. As the sand continues to pour out of the bag, the weight lowered towards the bowl at the back of the crossbow.

One hand was freed.

The sandbag was now crossing paths with the weight on its way down.

Another hand free. He started working on the chains at his neck.

The black weight was now only a few feet above the bowl.

Gnawing; uncomfortable and increasing in Elise's insides.

The weight touched the bowl and the arrow streaked across the room. With a split second to spare, the warrior pulled free of the chains and ducked down, out of the line of fire.

Elise found herself clapping along with the rest of the impressed spectators, gasping in relief at his escaped fate.

"Wasn't that amazing, dad."

No response.

"Dad?"

She looked behind her. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen.

John turned her back around. "He probably went to go investigate. Don't worry about it."

"I-."

"Don't even think about it. He's a big boy Elise. He can take care of himself."

Elise huffed and focused her attention back on the acts. John was probably right. Besides, she was a bit wary of going on a wild goose chase to find Sherlock after the events of yesterday. She'd been in the vicinity of too many guns lately.

In the performance area, The Opera Singer raised a hand to halt the audience's applause. "Ladies and gentlemen, from the distant moonlight shores of the Yangtze River, we present for your pleasure the deadly Chinese bird-spider."

As she walked away, a masked acrobat descended from the ceiling, rolling through the air as the broad red band wrapped around his waist unraveled. The audience applauded and he stopped a couple of feet above the ground, holding his body parallel to the floor.

Elise watched as he unraveled the velvety ropes, twisting them and turning them as he spiraled gracefully through the air. The audience was completely transfixed, staring open mouthed up at the talented performer.

All was going quite well. It was easy to forget the reason that they were there.

Then all hell broke loose.

There was a great crash from of the stage. Sherlock came tumbling out from behind the velvet curtain, landing flat on his back with a loud thud. There was another man-dressed in a costume similar to the escapology warrior's-who jumped from the stage with finesse.

John and Elise were on the move straightaway, running towards the warrior as he produced a knife. Sherlock still on the floor, terribly winded.

Oh my god.

Elise felt white hot anger course through her veins, pushing her forwards as fast as her legs could carry her. Without thinking, she charged at the attacker like a bull, clinging onto his back and digging her nails into the skin of his suit. He shook at her violently, trying to eject her. Elise responded by pulling his head back as far as she could.

Big mistake.

Elise felt the air get sucked from her body as she was slammed into the stage.

Then everything went dark.

A/N: Hope you liked the chapter! I'm so glad to finally be back and writing for you lovely readers. I have a poll going on my profile with regards to original cases. Please take a minute to check it out? Also, special shout out to Guest reviewer, Clara, for all the nice words you said. I really appreciate it and you were very encouraging . Also thanks to anybody who has ever reviewed, favorited, followed, etc. You have no idea how much it means to me to have the constant support and I couldn't be anymore thankful.

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~TheCurlyGal6218