**I do not own Sherlock! I only own Sarafina and Liza Holmes!**

Chapter 7

We arrive back at 221B. Panting heavily, John and I hang up our jackets and Uncle Sherlock drapes his coat over the bottom of the bannisters.

"Okay, that was ridiculous." John says as we lean against the hallway wall, catching our breaths. "That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done."

"And you invaded Afghanistan." John giggles. I smile as Uncle Sherlock begins to laugh.

"That wasn't just me." Uncle Sherlock chuckles. "Why aren't we back at the restaurant?" Uncle Sherlock becomes serious and waves his hand dismissively.

"Oh, they can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway."

"So what were we doing there?" Uncle Sherlock clears his throat.

"Oh just passing the time." He says as he looks at John. "And proving a point."

"What point?"

"You." He turns and yells loudly towards Mrs. Hudson's flat. "Mrs. Hudson! Doctor Watson will take the room upstairs.

"Says who?" Uncle Sherlock looks towards the front door.

"Says the man at the door."

Someone knocks at the door as John turns and looks at it. He looks at Uncle Sherlock in surprise and Uncle Sherlock smiles. He stares at him for a moment and walks over to answer the door. I watch as John opens the door to reveal Angelo.

"Sherlock texted me." He says smiling. He then holds up John's cane. 'I knew it.' I think to myself. "He said you forgot this." John stares at the can surprised and takes it.

"Ah." He turns and looks at Uncle Sherlock who grins at him. He turns back to Angelo. "Er, thank you. Thank you." He comes back in and shuts the door. He looks at me and I smirk. "Shut up…" He says.

Mrs. Hudson then comes out of her flat and hurries over to us. She looks upset and about ready to cry.

"Sherlock, what have you done?"

"Mrs. Hudson?" Uncle Sherlock asks concerned.

"Upstairs."

Uncle Sherlock hurries up the stairs and John and I follow. As Uncle Sherlock opens the door to the flat, I see Lestrade sitting there and police officers searching the flat. Uncle Sherlock storms over to Lestrade.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid.

"You can't just break into my flat."

"And you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat."

"Well, what do you call this then?"

"It's a drugs bust."

"Seriously?! This guy, a junkie?! Have you met him?!" Uncle Sherlock and I turn towards John and Uncle Sherlock walks closer to him.

"John…"

"I'm pretty sure you could search his flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational."

"John, you probably want to shut up now."

"Yeah, but come on…" He looks at Uncle Sherlock. They both gaze longingly at each other for a while before John breaks the silence. "No."

"What?"

"You?"

"Shut up!" Uncle Sherlock says angrily. He turns back to Lestrade. "I'm not your sniffer dog."

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." Lestrade says as he nods to the kitchen.

"What, An…" Just then Anderson pops into view from the kitchen, raises his hand, and wiggles his fingers in a sarcastic greeting.

"Oh, God…" I say rolling my eyes.

"Anderson what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"

"Oh I volunteered." Anderson says venomously. Uncle Sherlock turns away as Lestrade cuts in.

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen." Then Donovan (gag) comes into view holding a jar.

"Are these human eyes?"

"Her too?!" I ask angrily.

"Put those back!" Uncle Sherlock yells.

"They were in the microwave!"

"It's an experiment." Uncle Sherlock and I say at the same time.

"Keep looking, guys." Lestrade stands up and turns towards Uncle Sherlock. "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down." Uncle Sherlock starts pacing angrily.

"This is childish."

"Well, I'm dealing with a child. Actually, I'm dealing with two." He looks towards me. I glare at him. He turns back to Uncle Sherlock. "Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?" Uncle Sherlock stops and glares at him.

"Oh, what, so-so-so you can set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?"

"It stops being pretend if they find anything."

"I've got Liza. Do you really think id subject her to that? I am clean!" He says loudly.

"Is your flat? All of it?"

"I don't even smoke." Uncle Sherlock unbuttons his cuff on his left arm and pulls it up to reveal a single (hallelujah) nicotine patch on his arm.

"Neither do I." Lestrade says as he lifts up his own sleeve to show a similar patch on his arm. Uncle Sherlock rolls his eyes, turns away, and they both roll their sleeves back down. "So let's work together. We've found Rachel." Uncle Sherlock turns back to him.

"Who is she?"

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." Uncle Sherlock frowns.

"Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?"

"Never mind that. We found the case." Anderson cuts in. He points to the suitcase. "According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath." Uncle Sherlock looks at him disparagingly.

"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research." He turns to Lestrade again. "You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her."

"She's dead." Lestrade replies.

"Excellent!" I look at him startled. John does the same. "How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be."

"Well I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically, she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago." John grimaces and looks away. Uncle Sherlock just looks confused.

"No that's… that's not right. How… Why would she do that? Why?"

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yup – sociopath; I'm seeing it now." I roll my eyes and Uncle Sherlock looks at him exasperated.

"She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt." He starts to pace again.

"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." John says. Uncle Sherlock stops and looks at him.

"Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?" Everyone pauses.

"You don't think she'd still be upset?" I ask. "So, people shouldn't still be upset about something that happened a while ago?" Uncle Sherlock looks at me confused. "…Are you not upset about my mum anymore, Uncle Sherlock?" He stares at me He briefly glances away and turns back to me.

"Liza, that's… that's not what I meant…"

"Save it." I interrupt. I walk past him and go up to my room.

"Liza!" Uncle Sherlock calls out after me. "Liza, please. That's not…" I slam my door behind me before he could say anything else.

I didn't know what came over me. It's just, when I heard him say that, something just… snapped. I lean back against my door and put my head in my hands. I could still hear somewhat of the things they were saying.

"…If you were dying… in your very last few seconds what would you say?" I could hear Uncle Sherlock ask.

""Please, God, let me live."" John said.

"Oh, use your imagination!"

"I don't have to." John replies.

Silence fell over the flat again. Then after a few moments I hear Uncle Sherlock.

"Shut up, everybody, shut up! Don't more, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off." He yells.

Even though I was upset, I had to smile at that last comment. Anderson puts everyone off. I stopped listening after that. I went over to my bed and sat on it. I picked up a picture that was on my nightstand. It was of me and my mum on my 7th birthday. I'm sitting at a table with my birthday cake with a big number 7 candle on the top. My mum is leaning down next to me as we both smile at the camera. That picture is my favorite. It's funny because I'm missing one of my front teeth. My mum had one of the most beautiful smiles. She lit up the room wherever she went. She was funny, smart, pretty, and she loved me. So much. As I was going through different memories of her in my head, I looked out the window to see Uncle Sherlock talking to someone outside of a cab. After a moment, the man got into the cab and turned on the 'Taxi' light. Something was wrong. I could feel it. I put my picture down and ran out of my room. I ran down the stairs into the living room, where Lestrade was continuing the 'drugs bust'. I grabbed my coat off the hanger and ignored John as he called out my name. I ran down the stairs and pushed open the front door.

"Uncle Sherlock wait!" I yell. He was halfway into the cab when he paused and looked at me.

"Liza?"

"I'm coming with you."

"Liza, you can't. I'm sor…"

"I don't care. I'm coming with you." I said sternly.

We stare at each other for a moment and he sighs, gets out, and gestures me in. I jump into the cab and slide over. Uncle Sherlock gets in after me and the man starts the cab and drives off. My heart is racing, but I sit quietly looking out the window. After a few moments, the man's phone starts ringing. He doesn't answer it. Just keeps driving. After it stops, Uncle Sherlock starts to speak.

"How did you find me?"

"Oh, I recognized yer, soon as I saw you chasing my cab. Sherlock 'olmes! I was warned about you. I've been on your website too. Brilliant stuff! Loved it!" The man said.

"Who warned you about me?"

"Just someone out there who's noticed you. And little Liza too." I roll my eyes.

"I'm not little." I mumble quietly.

"Who?" Uncle Sherlock asks as he leans forward. "Who would notice us?"

"You're too modest, Mr. 'olmes."

"I'm really not."

"You've got yourself a fan." Uncle Sherlock nonchalantly sits back in the seat.

"Tell me more."

"That's all you're gonna know…" He pauses 'dramatically'. "…in this lifetime."

I swear when he said that, I heard a 'dun, dun, dunnnn' from somewhere. After a moment, I decided it was probably my imagination. But then it happened again. Uncle Sherlock looks at me.

"Oh!" I say.

I realized it was my phone. That's the ringtone I put for my uncle. Not Uncle Sherlock, my other uncle. I grabbed it and shut it off, not bothering to look at the message.

"Impeccable timing, I must say." Uncle Sherlock says. I stifle a laugh and turn back to the window to hide my smile. After a few moments, Uncle Sherlock starts to speak. "Just because I said that, doesn't mean I'm not still upset about your mum." I keep staring out the window, but I can feel him staring at me.

"You still said it." I say quietly.

"I know. And it was a mistake, believe me." He pauses. "Liza, your mum meant more to me than anything. And you know emotions are hard for me to understand but… I loved her." I turn to him. "She was my older sister. I looked up to her." I could feel myself tearing up. "And I love that she left me you." That's it. I broke. The tears fell and I leaned against his shoulder.

"I love you too, Uncle Sherlock." I said softly. He put his arm around me and leaned his head on mine.

"I know."

Finally, the cab stops in front of two identical buildings, side by side. The man turns the engine off and gets out and opens the passenger door. He looks in at Uncle Sherlock.

"Where are we?" Uncle Sherlock asks.

"You know every street in London. You know exactly where we are."

"Roland-Kerr Further Education College. Why here?"

"It's open; cleaners are in. One thing about being a cabbie: you always know a nice quiet spot for a murder. I'm surprised more of us don't branch out."

"This'll put me off cabs for a month…" I mumble.

"And you just walk your victims in? How?" The man pulls out a gun. My eyes immediately widen and my heart starts racing again. Uncle Sherlock just rolls his eyes and looks away. "Oh, dull." I look at Uncle Sherlock like he's crazy. Which he is so it was appropriate.

"Don't worry. It gets better."

"You can't make people take their own lives at gunpoint."

"I don't. It's much better than that." He lowers the gun and I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding back. "Don't need this with you lot, 'cause you'll follow me and you'll follow him." He says as he points to Uncle Sherlock and me. He then walks away confidently. Uncle Sherlock sits for a moment.

"You're not seriously gonna follow him, are you?" I ask Uncle Sherlock. He looks at me and gets out. "Wha… Oh, bloody hell…" I say as I get out and follow him, just as the cabbie had predicted.

Hey guys! Thanks so much for viewing the story and reviewing! It means so much to me. I got 159 views last week on just one day! A-ma-zing! Sorry if Sherlock was a tiny bit out of character for this chapter. I had to put some sort of mushy moment in here. ;) Hope you liked the chapter and keep reviewing! You guys rock!