Hurray! A long chapter for you all, at last. Im sorry it took so long! But hopefully the length of this makes up for that :) Thank you everyone who has reviewed and followed and favorited! That's the only thing keeping me writing this. At first I was like: "No one is going to like this story! I don't really even like this story." But oh, never have I been more wrong. Thank you all. Please leave a review! They make my day.

Armelia's lip curled in distaste. She looked to John for some kind of explanation, but he just raised an eyebrow and nodded. The universal way to silently communicate "I know, I know. Don't ask."

But she did. How could she not? This was bizarre, even for her.

"There is a head in the fridge." she murmured, turning wide eyes on her father. "There is a head in the fridge." Then she paused, scowled, and added, "There is a head in the fridge, and it's right next to a case of pudding. Why...Why are you putting heads where there is pudding?"

Sherlock glanced up from his violin strings, not even halting his pizzacato of Allegreto. "Why not?" he replied nonchalantly.

Armelia frowned. "Why do two grown men have pudding in their fridge anyways?"

piped up, "Oh, that's for Sherlock dear. Silly boy rarely eats a thing. But he'll take small things like that. Real nice and simple."

Molly laughed, though it sounded a bit forced. "Oh, right. Sherlock does have some funny quirks like that. How about you, Armelia. Should I get some snacks to keep at home for you?"

While the child genius pondered that "at home" bit and murmured her gratitude and that it was unnecessary, she looked around the flat her father and his doctor shared. 221B certainly had character, to say the least. The traces of Sherlock made it odd in a way that suited him. Like the yellow smile painted on one wall, with bullet holes marring it. Not to mention the numerous beakers and...limbs, that were laying about. And there was that skull...

They'd been invited to come back to the flat from the mortuary, Sherlock having used his daughter's deduction to finish fitting together the case he was working on and send it to Lestrade. Well, in this case it was more like send Lestrade a text and leave it in the lab for the detective to find. Really, Armelia was almost in awe of how astonishingly lazy her father was. She wondered if it had something to do with growing up in such a wealthy family. If that was the case, she was glad she'd grown up in poverty. It was part of why she adored poisons so much. Her mother and her had not been able to afford medicines, so Armelia had learned to make them from local plants. Poisons just came with that.

Now that she thought about it, what must it have been like to grow up like he did? With a sibling just as clever and cold as you were and all the money you could want. To have all that and still not be happy. To have all that and possibly-

Beep Beep!

Ping!

Armelia's inner musings were intterupted by the sound of Sherlock and Molly both receiving texts at the same moment. Sherlock set his violin aside and slid his phone open, eyes scanning the message with an unreadable expression. Molly's reaction to her own text were quite different, as she let out a startled choking sound and a hand flew to her mouth. The poor woman looked like she was going to wretch. John looked over her shoulder at what must have been a picture message, and even his eyes widened a bit at what he saw.

"It must be Christmas, John. Two cases in one day." Sherlock said with a note of pleasure in his voice as he stood to collect his coat.

Molly, on the other hand, sent a desperate look the doctor's way. "Oh oh, um, John, I have to get to the mortuary and take care of this...I-i mean, the body. What I mean is, I don't want Armelia seeing this body. Can she stay here with you?" Armelia just blinked, waiting to here what she was to do.

John cringed at the picture again, nodding in agreement. "Of course." he assured her. Sherlock frowned.

"I need you to come with me." he protested.

The doctor scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Where, Sherlock? She's gotta stay with someone."

The consulting detective just waved his pale hand dismissively. "To contact my homeless network, then Scotland Yard. She can stay with ."

Armelia's smooth brow creased unhappily. She did not want to stay here with the old woman. Sweet as she was, Armelia simply did not feel comfortable alone with the elderly. "It would be more interesting if I came with you," she prodded her father. "Besides," she said, her green eyes slicing up to his blue ones, "genius loves company. I could be of help."

The eyebrows of every adult in the room shot up at her comment, before John and burst out laughing. "That settles it, dear." the old woman said, leaving the room with her thin shoulders still shaking in laughter.

Molly, looking unsure of what to do, stood in front of her ward and smiled shakily. With the hesitance of a woman reaching out to pet a growling lion, she set one hand on the child's shoulder and said, " Stay close to John and be careful. I'll see you at home when this is all done, ok?"

Armelia tilted her head at her, her braid falling over narrow shoulders. "Yes, ma'am." she said sweetly, her tiny pale hand patting the one on her shoulder reassuringly. Molly brightened at the encouraging gesture and smiled broadly.

Armelia stared after her as she bid the adults a hasty goodbye and dashed down the stairs. Clearly, her father and his reputation was being reflected onto the raven-haired girl. Once again, in an increasingly frequent pattern since she'd left the orphanage, she found herself confused on how she felt about that.

"Well, right. Let's get going too then, shall we?" John suggested, extending an arm towards Armelia. She moved towards, then past him, following her father out the door.

While the three of them took a cab to where ever it was Sherlock was leading them, with Armelia placed between the two men, the small girl would ask John a few quiet questions about what it was like to be a doctor. She thought that she would probably enjoy the life of a military doctor far more than that of a detective. A note which Sherlock not only caught onto, but seemed curious about, if his repeated glances over to her were any indication. He didn't say anything, though. That is, until Armelia asked about the picture Molly had been sent before she left.

"Obviously the corpse was too gruesome to be shown to a child. That's all you need to know." he told her, an edge of authority in his voice.

Armelia turned cold, uninterested green eyes on him and arched a single black eyebrow. Was this his attempt at being paternal? The way his eyes narrowed and he nodded stiffly, as if to say "don't question me", when he caught her gaze suggested so. She made a quiet noise of amusement in her throat, and Sherlock glared down at her. John could only stare at the two in confusion.

When they stepped out of the cab, into an area that, unsurprisingly, the young genius had never been, John immediately reached down and took her hand. He gestured around them and explained "Don't want you to get swept away in the crowds." The raven haired girl only nodded.

"Sherlock, what are we even looking for?" the doctor asked, irritation in his voice, as they walked.

He didn't even glance back as he answered. "The way the body was mutilated matches the method used by a certain assassin. But whoever hired them is either stupid or making a point to get my attention. They're being blatant, and messy." his said with distaste, but an underlying note of amusement. Armelia's eyes narrowed. What kind of machine was her father, absolutely forgetting the people who died to fuel his fun?

They walked for almost a mile, Shelock's icy eyes scanning the streets for one of his homeless network. When he spotted one, a young man with shaggy blond hair tucked under a ratty green cap, he slipped him a hundred dollar bill, murmured something, and the homeless man slinked off. Armelia let go of John's hand, meaning to move to her father's side and ask about what he'd told the young man to do.

If the tall man in his dark hoodie had been walking towards her a moment ago, she would have noticed it. But he hadn't been, so she was caught completely off guard when he swooped down and snatched her up, an arm going too tightly around her middle and a hand clamping down roughly over her mouth. Her green eyes wildly sought John and Sherlock, but they were turned away.

They hadn't seen yet! And she was being moved further and further from them as her kidnapper ran. So Armelia did the only thing she could think of. Putting as much force into it as she could, she opened her mouth and bit down on the hand covering it.

She used the single gulp of air she managed to steal to scream.

Can you say cliff hanger? Cliffy! Who kidnapped Armelia? Why? What's gonna happen?! I'll try to update again within the week to let you all know ;) PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! 3