Chapter 16: The Jaria Diamond

'Alice dear could you please check on Sherlock upstairs. I keep on hearing things but I'm a little busy.'

Alice turned around and saw Mrs. Hudson standing in the doorway to the kitchen of Speedy's, her hands completely covered in dough. Alice, who was putting a few little pastries away in the cooler, nodded and closed the cooler. She warmed her hands to the side of her jeans and then took off her apron, which she neatly placed on the side of the counter.

'Don't worry Mrs. Hudson. I'm sure it's nothing.'

Mrs. Hudson nodded.

'I hope so, he has been making such a mess again. I don't know how you deal with that.'

Alice chuckled, Mrs. Hudson would never understand the system. The landlady, in the mean time, had turned around and had already returned to her kitchen. When Alice entered the little kitchen, it smelled of delicious pecan pies in the oven. Mrs. Hudson was now making little cherry pastries, making her already doughy fingers red with cherry juice. Alice sneaked past her, grabbing a cherry in her passing, resulting in a soft pat from Mrs. Hudson.

'Watch it young lady!'

Alice grinned widely as she snuck past the lady on the other side, grabbing another cherry from one of the pastries, then she made a run for the door to avoid Mrs. Hudson.

'Delicious Mrs. Hudson.'

Mrs. Hudson, who watched the girl disappear behind her front door, smiled and shook her head as she turned back to her pastries. Silly girl.

Alice slowly walked up the stairs towards the apartment of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. She quickly glanced at her watch. Ten past ten. She was five minutes early, but considering the noise and the fact that Mrs. Hudson was worried, it wouldn't hurt if she was a little early. She walked up the final two steps and glanced into the kitchen, which was still rather clean. Then she heard more noises coming from the living room and suddenly Sherlock stumbled into view, landing on the couch. He was followed by a man waving either a Talwar or a Shamshir, Alice couldn't see it clearly due to the speed of the blade. He wore in a long pastel coloured dress, and a turban which was also covering the larger part of his face. Alice gritted her teeth, it was not that she had something against people who wore clothing that covered almost their entire body, she just didn't like the fact that she couldn't figure out who these people were because of it. Then she thought about the case again. The Jaria Diamond. Wasn't Jaria a tiny little village in Iran? Considering this little skirmish going on right in front of her, Alice knew two things now. For one, the potential client was from somewhere in Iran, and this was most likely not him, considering the little henchman. Rich man, probably not entirely legal. Two, her father was not taking the Jaria Diamond Case. Most likely scenario. Only possible scenario. Just a simple lost diamond, not worth our time. She took a few steps forward, so she was able to fold her arms and lean against the doorpost as the fight moved further back into the living room, after Sherlock had pushed the swordsman away with his feet, got up, adjusted his blazer and then rushed forward again. Alice waited in the doorway for a while, her arms folded in front of her. She heard rumbling in the kitchen, scratching, moaning. She wasn't going to intrude, this was her father's fight, not hers. Sherlock reappeared in the living room again, with his back turned to his daughter, and he faced the masked swordsman again. But his eyes had been caught by the young girl with dark brown curls in dark jeans and a white shirt. A slight smirk could be seen gliding over Sherlock Holmes's face in the reflection of the mirror, right before he dived to avoid the sword, got up and pointed at the mirror.

'Look!'

The swordsman suddenly looked up. Alice grinned and waved sweetly. Sherlock knocked him out and the veiled Iranian collapsed on Sherlock's chair. Stupid idiot. Not many people could ignore the calling out of someone else telling them to look somewhere, and apparently he was part of that lot. Sherlock looked in the mirror, brushed the creases out of his blazer and looked at the man passed out in his chair one last time before turning around towards Alice, who was still grinning while leaning against the doorpost.

'Looking splendid as ever Mr. Holmes.'

Sherlock's disdainful look turned into a slight smile.

'Exactly on time. I didn't expect any less.'

Alice smiled as she pushed herself loose from the doorpost and towards the man in the chair. She leaned forward, keeping her eyes fixed on the steady breathing man, he was still passed out. With a cautious hand, she pulled the veil in front of the man's face away and looked into a tinted face with a three day beard and a long scar on his left cheekbone. Sherlock, who had readjusted his papers on the table, which had been dishevelled, looked up, and into the face.

'Know him?'

Alice, her face turned away from her father, looking at the Shamshir, she now knew which sword it was, turned to the man again, and started to grin.

'Actually, yes. He was my boyfriend. He was coming over to talk to you about his missing family heirloom. I was actually the one to send him to you.'

Alice looked at Sherlock, who now looked up, completely flustered. The papers were still firmly placed in his hand, but his eyes went from Alice to the man in his chair. Was she being serious, he could never know with her. Was she faking her emotions, she seemed to be genuinely upset. Did he really knock out her boyfriend here? But, how. Too much confusion, and he didn't like to be confused. His face was falling, in his eyes doubt was visible, with a spark of worry. He put the papers down and turned to Alice.

'Really?'

Alice saw her father's response, saw it building up second by second. Like her father could manipulate people, she apparently could manipulate her father too. She couldn't hide the sly grin that was appearing on her face.

'Never seen him before in my life.'

A slight smirk, but then realising how his daughter had manipulated his thought processes and how she had made him doubt himself, he turned up his nose and picked up the papers. Alice stood up straight.

'Oh really. You can manipulate people all the time, but when I do it to you you're suddenly offended?'

Sherlock sat down on the couch with the papers in his hands.

'It's my job to manipulate, that is the only way to extract the necessary information from people. People should not know that they are being manipulated, yet you should be in charge of the communication at all times.'

Alice nodded, still with one eye on the knocked out man next to her.

'And you don't want to admit that I might have taken over the control for one moment.'

Sherlock quickly glanced up, before looking back at the mails he had printed with potential cases. Boring. Dull. Solved. Solved. Dull. Dull. Why even bother? Boring. Alice remained quiet for a while, but then she started moving again. She was standing close enough now to look at the mails, even though she had to read them upside down.

'Dull. Boring. Too Easy. Solved.'

'What is it you want?'

Alice grinned.

'Nothing. But you promised me a case. I am not seeing one.'

Sherlock looked up, visibly annoyed.

'If you are just going to stand there, I'd rather have you leave.'

Alice stood up straight again and pulled down her shirt.

'I understand. You need your space.'

Sherlock's face changed. Was she playing him again? She never gave up this easily. He looked straight in her eyes, where he noticed a spark of disappointment. Her face was still telling, or did she make it telling. She was outsmarting him at his own game, and he didn't like it. But then Alice left, suddenly she had turned around and walked away. But not downstairs, she walked towards his bedroom. She didn't close the door and came out soon after, holding a large white sheet. She came back into the room in silence, followed by the eyes of Sherlock. She stopped next to the man and grabbed his feet. Suddenly he started to stir, even a powerful punch in the face was not going to give eternal unconsciousness. But that didn't last long. Alice noticed the stirring within seconds and quickly lifted her left hand and knocked the man out again. Sherlock put down his papers and stood up.

'No. You need space. So I give you space.'

Alice dragged the swordsman on the sheet and then pulled him towards the door. Sherlock watched in silence as the slender girl pulled the full grown, unconscious man. He couldn't help but chuckle a little. Alice was almost at the stairs when she noticed that the weight had decreased. She looked up and saw Sherlock, holding the other side of the sheet. She stopped and looked at him for a while. Sherlock noticed the eyes piercing through his soul and looked up as well.

'What?'

Alice continued to look at him, silent.

'Are you going to say something.'

'I thought you should.'

Sherlock snorted.

'Like what?'

Alice looked at him for a moment, but then shrugged her shoulders and pulled the man on the sheet towards the stairs. When they were downstairs, she opened the door and they dragged him outside. Sherlock put the feet down and called a cab, while Alice held up the head of the man and tried to keep him away from the curious passers-by. The cab stopped right next to them and Sherlock flung the door open. They hauled the Iranian Swordsman on the back seat and shoved him in. Then Sherlock turned to the cabbie, who was looking on with big eyes.

'Could you please take this gentleman to Heathrow airport, he needs to catch a flight, but he was too fast asleep.'

Alice smirked as she vehemently pulled the sheet from under the man's body. Then she turned to the cabbie and instantly recognised him. She took a step towards her father and the cabbie, he could see her too now.

'Alice.'

Alice turned her smirk into a smile.

'Stephen.'

Sherlock, who recognised the familiarity between the two, straightened his back. He looked around for a moment, but then his eyes were caught by the unconscious man on the back seat of the cab and he moved towards it, he leaned in and pulled the limp body up a little.

'You get the message? NOT interested.'

His voice was no more than a low rumble and not distinguishable if you were not standing immediately next to him. He dropped the body again and couldn't repress the smirk as he stood up again. He immediately saw Alice and the cabbie again. Alice was standing up straight, like she would often do, one of her hands casually yet sternly placed in her pocket. The cabbie was leaning forward and was a little visible from where Sherlock was standing. After the short moment of recognition, Stephen had asked Alice what she had been up to after their little adventure. Alice had stoically answered his questions, but she was smiling now. Then Stephen saw Sherlock standing staring at the two of them. He beckoned Alice to come a little closer, and Alice, unlike her normal self, but commonly curious about what the cabdriver/soldier/queen's guard wanted from her, leaned in and placed one hand on the open window.

'Is that him? Your father?'

Alice quickly glanced at Sherlock, who was trying to surreptitiously get closer to catch the conversation. He immediately stopped in his tracks when he saw his daughter's eyes on him. Then she turned back to Stephen and gave a short nod. Then she stood up straight again within a second.

'Now, could you please take this sir to Heathrow? How much would that be?'

She looked at Sherlock, clearly waiting for him to pay the cabbie in advance. Stephen named a price and, still suspicious, Sherlock pulled his wallet and took out the money. His eyes were fixed on Alice though, who looked straight back. Stephen took the money and counted it, put it away and when Sherlock stood straight again, he pulled up and drove away, closing the window as he did so. It was quiet as father and daughter watched the cab go. Then Alice quickly turned back to the door.

'This is the first and the last time I am taking out your dirty laundry, just so you know.'

Sherlock turned to her and followed her in.

'Who was that cabbie?'

Alice, who was still holding the white sheet, turned around.

'Why would you want to know?'

Sherlock pulled his blazer down again.

'You seemed...acquainted.'

She turned around again and up the stairs, quickly followed by Sherlock. She remained quiet until she had put the sheet back in Sherlock's bedroom. But when she turned around to go back to the living room, her path was blocked by her father, standing in the doorway.

'Who is he Alice?'

Alice stifled a laugh.

'Are you being a caring father now?'

Sherlock's stern face fell. Alice made him do things he had never done before, and she made him aware of it, making him unsure. John would also do such things, forcing him to reflect on his actions and doubt whether he was always right. He wanted to fight it, be as emotionless as he could be, but Alice had called him out, again. She used his moment of uncertainty to squirm past him. But she wasn't fast enough and Sherlock grabbed her wrist and spoke in a low voice.

'Whatever you're doing, stop it now.'

Alice looked up at the emotionless face of her father, but then she shook her head. The pressure on her wrist intensified.

'You will stop it.'

She wouldn't wince in pain, she mirrored his expression, not showing any emotion.

'I can't.'

Sherlock's hold weakened.

'What?'

'I can't stop you from becoming a little more human.'

Sherlock released his grip, but Alice didn't move.

'Human.'

Alice nodded.

'It's not a crime, it might even be nice to not be a machine all the time.'

The two of them were still standing in the doorway, when the key in the front door downstairs was turned and the two of them could hear the door being pushed open with some force. They both looked at the stairs, and without a second thought, they started moving. Alice back into the bedroom, closing the door in front of her, Sherlock back to his chair, where he quickly grabbed a book he had been reading earlier and opened it, all this before John Watson reached the top of the stairs of 221b Baker Street.