25.

And out there, living in the sun. Give me one day out there, all I ask is one to hold forever.
- Out There, The Hunchback of Notre Dame

"Please."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Please," Elspeth begged, trailing after Sherlock while he walked through to the kitchen. He ignored her and continued to make tea, barely glancing her way even when she tugged on his arm. "Please, Dad. Just one day – one day." She slumped against the counter with her head in her arms, pouting up at Sherlock when he finally glanced her way. It was a technique that used to work but now Elspeth was older and Sherlock was wiser, so he didn't give in to her pleading so easily.

"No," Sherlock repeated after a second of thought, turning his back on Elspeth so he could take the milk from the fridge. She followed him and held the door open, snatching the juice from him when he offered it to her. "That doesn't help your case, Ellie."

"What case?" she grumbled. "You've only said no about a thousand times now."

"Don't exaggerate, Elspeth," Mycroft said from the living room, glancing up from the work Sherlock was doing; he never could resist sticking his nose in.

Elspeth gave him a sour look, brightening up when an idea sprung to her mind. "Will you take me, uncle Mycroft?" she asked sweetly. Sherlock scoffed when she batted her eyelashes. Mycroft wasn't convinced either.

"Certainly not," he said. "Can you imagine me at the beach? All the noise, the greasy food, the people." Mycroft nearly shuddered at the thought, grimacing when he considered all the bright colours and loud attractions and hyperactive children that a trip to the beach would entail. Elspeth let out a heavy sigh and slumped against the counter again, her chin in her hand. "Don't slump like that, Elspeth, you'll give yourself back pains."

Sherlock exchanged a sympathetic glance with Elspeth. "You look as though you've put on weight, Mycroft," he called across the room. Mycroft didn't even look his way.

"Lost it, thank you for noticing."

Elspeth sighed and Sherlock rolled his eyes, taking the tea through to the living room with his daughter following again. She fell onto the sofa, curled her legs up to her chest, and went back to staring at the cartoon playing on the TV screen. Sherlock had no idea what it was, but it kept Elspeth entertained long enough for him to carry on with his work and that was all he cared about, snatching the paper from Mycroft's hands before sitting down next to her. Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

"The wife," he said. "is lying about her alibi."

"Don't you think I've already worked that out?" Sherlock snapped back irritably. He scowled at his brother. "I didn't ask for your help."

"You clearly need it."

"What's an alibi?" Elspeth piped up curiously.

"You don't need to know," Sherlock said. He waved his hand at her. "Go back to your cartoon."

Elspeth huffed.

"She clearly has a reason," Mycroft continued as though Elspeth hadn't spoken. "to lie. If this was a case involving domestic abuse I could understand the deception, but the husband has no history of mental health problems or violence –"

"Neither does she," Sherlock interrupted. As much as he hated to admit it, bouncing ideas off Mycroft was somewhat helpful for cases like these; he would never say it out loud though. "There is definitely something strange about the neighbour, though . . . where did she get that pineapple?" He picked up some of the notes taken from the official police file – Lestrade didn't know Sherlock had them – and examined them briefly, Sherlock's lips twisting into a frown. "What reason would she have though? It wasn't an affair."

"Not a physical one," Mycroft added. Sherlock looked up at him.

"Are you suggesting an emotional affair?"

"How would you know about that?" Mycroft sneered, his lips tilting into an unkind smirk. Sherlock stiffened and glared back at him.

"I'll get it!" Elspeth announced when there was a knock at the door, jumping up from the sofa and darting across the room before Sherlock could stop her. She was more than a little relieved to see Lestrade. "Hi!"

"Hey," Lestrade said with a grin. "Is Sherlock in?"

Elspeth nodded. "He's too busy to take me to the beach this weekend," she grumbled, shutting the door behind Lestrade when he stepped into the apartment.

"What's this?" Lestrade teased, strolling through to the living room and taking a seat next to Sherlock, who didn't look up from his notes. "You're too busy to take Ellie to the beach? Come on, you've got to take a break sometime, Sherlock – you've been working on this all week!" Elspeth watched from the kitchen, pleased that Lestrade was fighting for her, and Sherlock glanced at her over his shoulder. She smiled back. "If you don't take the day off this weekend and spend some time with your daughter, I won't let you anywhere near a case for the rest of the month," Lestrade threatened. Sherlock could tell he was being serious.

"Fine," he said. "The wife was lying about her alibi, by the way."

"What? Really?"

Sherlock had selfishly hoped that it would be raining at the weekend, but the sun was in the sky and it was incredibly warm, so he got dressed and packed Elspeth's belongings into a rucksack for her.

"Aren't you going to be hot?" Elspeth asked, noticing he was wearing his usual attire of suit and shirt. She was in her shorts and a t-shirt, her swimming costume folded neatly in her bag. Sherlock shook his head. "Do you want to borrow my hat?" She held out her blue baseball cap.

"No, thank you," Sherlock said. Elspeth put it on over her bunches, giggling when it slipped down because it was slightly too big and pushing it back so she could watch Sherlock pack a bottle of water into her bag. "Have you put on sun cream?" He didn't want to risk Elspeth getting burned, especially not when she was so fair skinned. She nodded. "Are you certain?"

"Uh huh," Elspeth insisted. Sherlock checked anyway. "Can we go now?"

They didn't get a taxi like they usually did, and instead got onto the bus that would take them straight to the nearest beach. It was a double decker, so Elspeth raced to the top deck and sat right at the front, grinning from ear to ear at the view. It was like they were flying! She smiled at Sherlock when he sat down next to her, and despite being dragged out on a day he didn't want to go to, he couldn't help but smile back, gently pushing her hat up when it slipped. It had been a gift from Lestrade; Elspeth chose the colour.

It didn't take long for them to get to the beach. Elspeth cried out when she saw it, the sea shining in the sunlight like it was made of diamonds and the rides whirling around so fast that they were barely a blur of colour against the clear blue sky. She jumped down from her seat, holding onto the railing at the front of the bus and leaning forwards as if she could get to the beach quicker that way, standing on the tips of her toes. A couple of the other passengers smiled at Sherlock, obviously amused by her antics, and he forced himself to smile back before reaching out to pull Elspeth back onto her seat. She wriggled about, glowering at Sherlock, but cheered up when he pointed out a few of the rides.

"What ones do you want to go on?" he asked her.

"All of them."

Sherlock frowned. "You can't go on all of them, Ellie."

"Why not? You asked me which ones I want to go on and I told you I want to go on all of them," Elspeth said. It took Sherlock a couple of minutes to explain height and age restrictions, two concepts that Elspeth wasn't particularly happy about. "Can I go to the stalls and win some prizes though?"

Uncertain as to what she was talking about – Sherlock had deleted any childhood memories of beaches and funfairs and piers – he nodded once, then prepared to exit the bus as it came to a stop. Elspeth bounded down the stairs, stopping to thank the bus driver and give him a toothy grin. Sherlock was slightly more reserved in his gratitude.

"Beach or pier first?"

Elspeth frowned, carefully considering both options before deciding on the pier. The rides were too enticing to ignore.

It turned out that in order for Elspeth to go on the rides, Sherlock first had to queue up at a booth and pay an extortionate about of money for a handful of tokens, which were then exchanged for a go on the rides. There were a few that Elspeth couldn't go on because she was too young or too short, and though she pouted, she cheered up considerably when Sherlock pointed out the much smaller, child friendly rollercoaster that was far more appropriate than the large one she'd been hoping to go on. It was shaped like a dragon with a grin that was supposed to be friendly but came across as rather sinister, but Elspeth barely noticed as she raced to get to the seat at the front.

"Hi Dad!" she yelled from the rollercoaster, waving enthusiastically. One of the ride assistants had to remind her to keep her hands in the ride at all times.

The rollercoaster made a couple of rounds of the track, which had a couple of small bends and corners while going up and down, and Elspeth was grinning widely the entire time. Sherlock smiled and waved at her each time she passed, the realisation that he was going to have to stand around and wait while she went on rides all day dawning on him. It was going to be a long day.

When that ride ended, Elspeth dragged Sherlock over to the tea cup ride; oversized tea cups spun around on a rotating platform, which was apparently very entertaining for the people on it. Sherlock couldn't understand how making themselves dizzy was fun, but handed over the necessary tokens and watched Elspeth spin around. Her laughter carried through the wind, one hand on the edge to keep her steady and the other on her hat so it didn't fly off.

She was growing up – fast. Sherlock looked at Elspeth, his eyes narrowing when he noticed that her face had lost a little bit of its roundness, beginning to look a more mature. Her eyes were still as wide and round as they used to be, but haughtier, grown up somehow. Elspeth was a lot more animated with her expressions, her eyes growing when she was excited and narrowing when she was pissed off, and her habit of biting lip when she was nervous or anxious was now a permanent one. She was taller as well. Sherlock knew that Elspeth still had some growing to do, but she was a lot taller than she had been and nowhere near as soft or babyish. Molly had once commented that she thought Elspeth was going to grow into a beautiful young woman, and Sherlock was slowly beginning to realise what she meant.

"Where to now?" Sherlock asked when Elspeth got off the ride. She stumbled, dizzy, and stopped to lean against him while she looked around the pier. Another ride sounded fun, but Elspeth was drawn to the stalls standing side by side along the railings, especially the ones with prizes to be won. Though she wasn't as competitive as she used to be, Elspeth did like the occasional competition now and then, her grin widening when she thought of all the prizes she could take home.

"Over there," Elspeth said. "I want to hook a duck!"

The concept was easy enough; Elspeth was given a long wooden pole with a small hook on the end, designed to pick up one of the rubber ducks floating in the water inside the booth. It was so easy that even Sherlock decided to have a go, handing over some extra money.

"Nothing like a father-daughter competition," the woman working there commented with a small grin, her eyes flickering between Sherlock and Elspeth.

"I'm going to get a duck before you," Elspeth told him. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?"

He was only teasing, of course, but Sherlock couldn't resist almost winning each time Elspeth came close to hooking a duck – he was quicker, had better hand-eye coordination, and could reach them easier. Sherlock let Elspeth win, though, giving her a defeated smile when she managed to pick up a duck first. It only took him a few seconds to do the same.

"You can pick any of these prizes, honey." The stall holder gestured towards a row of soft toys lined up, and after a few seconds of thought, Elspeth decided on a stuffed bear that was the same colour as candyfloss. "Don't suppose you want a prize?" the woman asked Sherlock. He smirked back and shook his head.

"Can we try that one?" Elspeth pointed towards another stall. There were plastic guns lined up and targets at the back – obviously, one had to hit a target (or several) in order to win a prize. Sherlock nodded, putting his hand on Elspeth's shoulder and guiding her towards her chosen attraction, and the boy at the booth gave them both a sideways glance. He was no older than nineteen and was in dire need of a long shower, chewing his gum in the most obnoxious manner when he asked Sherlock how many rounds he wanted to pay for.

Sherlock handed over the money with some reluctance and stood to the side, watching Elspeth prepare herself. She grasped one of the plastic guns, which was on a stand that could pivot in order for more flexibility, and waited for the signal before holding down the trigger, sending a stream of plastic pellets towards the targets. She missed them.

"No fair!" she wailed.

"Want to play another round?"

Elspeth looked at Sherlock hopefully, her eyes wide, and he paid for another round. She missed the targets a second time, pouting and looking defeated, so Sherlock paid for a third and final attempt at the game.

"Yay!" she cried when one of the pellets finally hit the target, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Do I get a prize?"

"Nope," the boy at the booth said, still chewing gum. "Soz, kid, but you gotta knock the target down."

Elspeth's face dropped and Sherlock frowned, taking a step forwards. "That wasn't made clear before my daughter began playing," he said to the boy, who just shrugged and insisted there was nothing he could do; rules were rules. Elspeth looked close to tears, hugging her stuffed bear to her chest while gazing at her feet, and Sherlock put his hands on the edge of the booth as he leaned close to the boy. "You're hiding half the profits in your back pocket and using it to buy your girlfriend's affections – it won't last, by the way – so I highly suggest that you give my daughter a prize before I report you to the authorities for theft. They don't take kindly to people stealing."

The boy gawped at Sherlock for several seconds, then reached up with trembling hands and took the largest stuffed animal – a toy giraffe – from its hook, handing it to Elspeth.

"Here you go, kid," he said. His voice was shaking. "Well done on hitting the target."

"Thank you," Elspeth said, cheering up immediately. She hadn't heard Sherlock's quiet threat, oblivious to the way he smirked back at the young boy before taking the stuffed animal for his daughter; it was almost bigger than she was. "I'm hungry, Dad."

Sherlock smirked a final time at the boy and put his hand on Elspeth's shoulder, guiding her towards the nearest food stall. He couldn't stand people stealing and taking advantage of others – especially not someone as young and vulnerable as his daughter.

"Uncle Mycroft would have a fit if you saw you eating that," Sherlock commented. He sat opposite Elspeth at one of the tables scattered across the pier, watching her while she devoured a greasy burger and portion of chips, and she grinned back at him.

"Uncle Mycroft always has a fit," Elspeth said. "He always tells me off for stuff."

"He tells me off for stuff too," Sherlock said.

"He tells you off for grown up stuff though. He tells me off for being too loud or not standing up properly or eating too many sweets." Elspeth huffed and picked up one of her chips, frowning at Sherlock. "Uncle Mycroft used to be fun. Why isn't he fun anymore?"

Sherlock scoffed. "Mycroft has never been fun."

"He used to be," Elspeth insisted. "He used to take me to the park. He doesn't want to do anything now."

"That's because he's a grumpy old man who doesn't know how to have fun," Sherlock told Elspeth, who snorted with laughter and covered her mouth with her hands in an attempt to smother it. Sherlock smiled back. He supposed that, for someone as young as Elspeth had been when Mycroft looked after her, things like going to the park and being able to visit him in his office were fun. Elspeth was growing up, though, and Mycroft expected her to be more mature. She was very like Sherlock, however, and was learning that – while it wasn't very sensible – it was rather good fun to wind up her uncle. "Don't worry about uncle Mycroft not being fun. He's always been like that."

Elspeth huffed again. "I wish he was more fun." She smiled at Sherlock. "You're fun when you're not working."

Sherlock smiled back. "I have to work," he told her quietly. He couldn't explain why though. Lestrade needed him, and Sherlock needed stimulation, adrenaline – without the rush of cases to occupy him, it was more than likely that Sherlock would revert back to old habits just to get that high he so desperately craved. As a highly intelligent individual, Sherlock got bored easily. He couldn't let himself get bored, not when he had Elspeth. When he was bored, things were dangerous and Sherlock knew he would never forgive himself if he put Elspeth in danger. "Do you want an ice cream when you're done?"

After lunch, Sherlock sent Elspeth to the toilets to wash her greasy hands; the two of them then went for a walk along the beach. The sun was lower, the day coming to an end, but still the sea shone and sparkled. Elspeth couldn't take her eyes off it, wishing there was some way she could remember that moment forever.

"Can I have your phone?" she asked. Sherlock handed it to her and Elspeth switched to the camera setting, holding the phone up for a few seconds as she adjusted the position before taking a photo, smiling. "Look! I took a photo!"

"It's a good photo," Sherlock told her.

After a while, Elspeth kicked off her shoes and walked bare foot, feeling the sand against her toes. She vaguely remembered the last time she and Sherlock had gone to the beach, several years ago when they went camping together, and thought about how she'd made sandcastles and slept in a sleeping bag and had a barbeque for dinner most nights. That had been a good trip. They didn't go on many trips or days out anymore because Sherlock was always working, but in a few months Elspeth would be eleven and going to secondary school, so she could go for days out on her own. The idea was a little daunting when Elspeth thought about it.

Even though she was ten years old and it wasn't cool to hold your dad's hand, Elspeth grabbed Sherlock's hand like she used to when she was younger. She didn't say anything and neither did he.

"Thank you for bringing me to the beach," Elspeth finally said. Sherlock smiled.

"You're welcome."

"I won't tell Lestrade you're too mean to take me out next time. I know you like working."

"Mmm," Sherlock said under his breath. He supposed he enjoyed working, but he enjoyed spending time with Elspeth just as much – if not more. "Maybe we can do things like this more often. Maybe," he emphasised when Elspeth looked up at him hopefully. "If I'm not too busy, of course." Elspeth laughed and Sherlock smiled again, putting his arm around her shoulders so he could pull her close. "You're getting tall."

Elspeth grinned. "I'll be as tall as you soon."

"Highly unlikely," Sherlock said dryly, making Elspeth laugh. Sherlock was far taller than Elspeth could ever hope to be, but if she grew up a little more and stood on her tiptoes, then maybe she would be nearly as tall as he was. Elspeth was one of the tallest in her class at school. "What do you want to do for your birthday this year? Do you want a party?"

"I don't know," Elspeth said. A lot of other people in her class were having parties for their eleventh birthday, but they were having them in cool places like the cinema or the swimming pool or going out for pizza, and Elspeth couldn't think of anywhere just as cool to have her birthday. "Maybe."

"I don't know mind if you don't want one," Sherlock teased. "Saves me more money."

"You still have to get me presents even if I don't have a party."

"You never said that."

"I did!" Elspeth insisted, giggling when Sherlock playfully tickled her ribs, holding her close so she couldn't escape. If someone were to walk past, they would see a father and his daughter fooling around on the beach; Elspeth squealed with laughter while Sherlock tickled her and held her in his arms – she was never too old to be swung over the water like he was going to drop her. Elspeth's laughter echoed, her hands clinging to Sherlock's sleeves while she tried to wriggle out of his arms, and Sherlock knew that no matter how old Elspeth got, she would always be his little girl.

Thank you Deductions-of-Sherlolly, AnimeWriter45, SlytherinHolmes, Guest Moustache, bellechat, ooperdupe and Fangirl DiAngelo for reviewing!

Ellie is now 10 and based on my own cousin, who is also 10 but acts like a stroppy 13 year old already!