A/N: I do not own the characters of Elementary, but I do own Macey Ann.
Enjoy! Sherlock and Joan are in this one!:)
Macey felt a sudden shake and was jolted from her deep sleep. She jumped up and looked out the window, half-expecting to see the plane's wing gone and the vessel plummeting to the ground. Instead, she was greeted with a stretch of runway beneath the plane's landing gear and a beautiful New York skyline. Tall buildings, their tops glared out by the sun, rested along the horizon, almost no space between them. Macey smiled. She had to admit, it was a beautiful sight.
"Welcome to New York, passengers! I hope you enjoy your stay in the big apple!" The flight attended chirped over the speaker.
Macey frowned at her fake, happy, 'just for show' tone. She hated people when they were phony. Too chipper equals too annoying.
Officer Harmon grabbed Macey's bag from the overhead compartment and seized her wrist, pulling her along with him.
"Whoa there, you two. You'll have to wait until first class gets off, then business follows." She smiled warmly, motioning for them to sit back down.
Officer Harmon flashed his badge and the flight attendant nodded, stepping out of their way. He pulled her off the plane, having to show his badge an additional three times to the other attendants, and they entered the airport. They walked to the 'drop-off' point and waited for the pair that would be housing Macey for the two weeks she'd be in New York.
"Where are they, Officer Michael Harmon?" Macey smirked at the officer's confused expression.
"How did you…?" His question died in his throat as Macey waved his wallet in front of his face. He snatched it away and inspected it, counting the money and making sure the credit cards were all there.
"You underestimate me, Michael. Did you really think I'd need you to tell me your first name?" Macey snickered. "Once I want to know something, I make it a point to achieve just that. I wanted to know your first name, you wouldn't tell me. What was I supposed to do?"
"Pickpocketing is a misdemeanor." He growled. He pocketed his wallet and turned that side of his body away from her, not wanting her to do it again.
"It's a felony, Mr. know it all." Macey crossed her arms.
Officer Harmon muttered something inaudible.
"What was that?" Macey turned towards him and fixed him with a glare, knowing he had insulted her…even if she hadn't heard him clearly.
Officer Harmon grimaced. "All you are is a low-life criminal." Before he knew it, he was on his back, watching Macey's fist poising to strike.
…
"So, where exactly are we going?" Joan asked, slightly shifting her body towards the middle-aged consulting detective beside her.
"LaGuardia." Sherlock's answer was short. He'd explain the plan to her later, this way she'd be forced to go along with it.
Joan furrowed her brow. "For what? Or am I going to have to guess?"
Sherlock shot her a tired glance.
"Right. Detectives don't guess. They deduce." Joan tapped her fingers on her lips. "LaGuardia airport…an old friend is coming to the city?"
Sherlock let out a sigh and shifted uncomfortably. "No. Well, not exactly."
"Then what exactly? You know I'm not going to leave this be until you tell me." Joan crossed her arms and stared at him, knowing he'd grow annoyed and finally give in, telling her everything about the situation.
Sherlock met her gaze. "Fine. We are going to LaGuardia airport to pick up one Macey Ann Holmes."
"Macey Ann…Holmes…? You have a daughter?" Joan was taken aback. You think you know someone after a year of partnership!
"No. I do not have a daughter. My brother does. I've agreed to take her in for two weeks and 'reform her attitude'." He rolled his eyes at the last part.
"You? Reform someone's attitude? You've got to be kidding." Joan eyed him in disbelief.
"Yes. Me. My brother has practically disowned Macey because of her actions in London. I'm giving this girl a chance…even if I don't want to."
"If you don't want to, why are you?" Joan was completely and thoroughly confused.
"Penance, Watson."
"Ah, yes. Penance." Joan rolled her eyes and prepared to exit the taxi as they slowed down to a stop in front of the large airport.
They exited the taxi and Sherlock checked his phone.
"Baggage claim…Gate N22. They should be here." Sherlock stopped beside the baggage claim machine and swept the room with his eyes.
"Sherlock? Do you even know what this girl looks like?" Joan watched him closely. He seemed like he knew what he was looking for.
Sherlock produced a picture from his wallet and handed it to her.
"Oh. So, she's younger?" Joan turned the picture over in her hands. "Really, Sherlock? This picture is from seven years ago! She's got to be at least sixteen by now." Joan handed him the picture back.
"Well, when is that photo from?" Sherlock asked as he looked at the photo.
"It says 2006 on the back. The girl in this picture is nine. The girl we're looking for is sixteen. Haven't you ever heard of puberty? Who knows what this girl looks like now?!" Joan crossed her arms in exasperation.
"Well, think. What would this girl look like now? Higher cheekbones, longer hair –unless she cut it, dark brown eyes, light freckles, and I assume her hips and chest region have enlarged." Sherlock babbled on bluntly.
"You have no shame, do you?" Joan asked rhetorically.
Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by screaming.
"Get your hands off me! Help!" A man was screaming in pure terror.
Sherlock's gaze traveled to the commotion and was met with a sight.
A young girl was pinning a larger, older man to the ground by his shoulders. Her fist was raised and an evil gleam was in her eyes.
Those eyes…
Sherlock looked down at the picture and back at the girl, who was now being pulled away by security.
Joan grimaced. "Whose kid is that?"
"Ours –well, for the next two weeks anyway." Sherlock spoke, running to intercept security from taking her to airport jail.
"What?" Joan seemed surprised…and disappointed. She jogged to keep up with him.
"I told you she was a juvenile…didn't I?" Sherlock asked, a sheepish smile on his face.
"You most certainly did not." Joan growled to herself.
Sherlock ran up to the security personnel and stood in their way. "Wait, we'll take this from here." Sherlock reached out for Macey and was met with her slapping his hand away.
"No can do, Mister. This young lady is going to be charged for assault to a citizen." One of the three cops replied.
The man on the ground got to his feet and once again, flashed his badge. "I'm a cop…and these two are the ones who I'm supposed to be delivering her to."
"Well, now its assault to a police officer." The same cop spoke and began to drag her away.
Macey kicked behind her and her foot contacted with one of the security's knee. He dropped to the ground in pain and she elbowed him in the nose. He hit the ground with a hard thud, immediately forming into the fetal position to prevent himself from further damage. Macey took the other cops arm and twisted it, fighting off the third cop with her foot. She kicked the third cop in the genital region and she fell to his knees, being kicked in the jaw as he looked up at her. Macey pushed the second cop to the ground and dodged Officer Harmon's attempt to grab her from behind. She pushed past Sherlock and sprinted towards the nearest exit. She skidded to a stop as she was blocked by ten more security officers guarding the exit.
"Macey!" Sherlock sprinted after her and tried to grab her from behind. He was shocked when she turned, her fist connecting with his jaw. He was stunned for a second, but regained his strength and alertness quickly. He grabbed her shoulder and squeezed near her neck.
Macey felt the world around her fade and she fell into Sherlock's arms.
Joan jogged up beside Sherlock and gasped. "What did you do?" She demanded, out of breath.
Sherlock lifted her into his arms and cradled her. "I got the situation under control. Now, are you going to help me or not?"
Joan stepped past the security officers guarding the door and pushed it open.
"Where do you think you're going? She just assaulted my three officers, you and Officer Harmon! She must be charged!" A man approached Sherlock and put his hands on his hips.
Sherlock looked him up and down. "Captain Gregson with the NYPD. Call him. Tell him Sherlock told you to. He'll straighten this out." Sherlock adjusted Macey into a more comfortable position and smirked. "Plus, I'd refrain from standing with your hands on your hips. It's not very threatening." Sherlock left the boiling man behind and followed Joan out the door.
"So, hopefully that wasn't a preview into how these two weeks are going to go…" Joan muttered as they were all packed into the back of the awaiting taxi.
Macey began to stir and babble. When she was fully alert, she looked at the two slightly nervous, slightly terrified faces. "Where am I?" She rubbed her shoulder at the spot Sherlock had squeezed. "Did you…did you knock me out?"
Sherlock nodded. "Well to be more precise, I used a special military tactic I learned from a contact in New York-"
"Yeah yeah yeah, I didn't ask for your backstory, Holmes." Macey snapped, still rubbing the sore spot between her collar bone and her neck.
"I can see why they want you to reform her attitude. It's rotten." Joan grumbled.
"Who's this? Your wife? The great Sherlock Holmes got married? Since when?" Macey looked to Sherlock, an icy stare glazing her eyes.
"No, her name is Joan Watson. You will be calling her Miss Watson while you are here, got it?" Sherlock commanded.
"Yeah, yeah. But, who is she?" Macey looked at Joan with a bored expression.
"My partner…"
"She consults with you and the NYPD. I know, Holmes. I was just giving you crap." Macey sniggered.
"How did you know?" Joan asked.
"I studied you, duh." Macey rolled her eyes. "Not the brightest, is she, Holmes?"
Sherlock immediately defended his partner. "What you just said is disrespectful and will not be tolerated. If you want to go back to your Hell-hole back in London, so be it. You will only be allowed to stay here if you are respectful towards my friends, colleagues, and Joan. Got it?" His patience was wearing quite thin at this point.
Macey glared at him with great intensity. She was not prepared for Sherlock to burst out laughing.
"I can see right through you, love. You display an exterior of being tough and incapable of experiencing fear, but I can see it. You're terrified, Macey. Terrified of this city, terrified of going back, terrified of yourself. You may feel like your superior to us, but let me tell you, you're going to find out real quick that this is not the case. You are the newbie here, sweetheart. And you're on thin ice. One wrong move and its back to London. Back to juvy! Your own father doesn't want you, Macey."
Macey felt angry tears stream down her face. "Then why am I here?"
"Because. I believe that you are worth something. You may not feel like it, but you are." Sherlock turned towards the window and stared out at the rain that had started to fall. "I'm giving you one chance to turn your life around. If I were you, I'd take the chance."
"I can't change, Holmes…" Macy wiped a tear away.
"I did." Sherlock exited the taxi and tossed the money at the cabbie. He strode up the steps, leaving Joan and Macey alone in rain.
"He believes in you. You can change, Macey. All it takes is some hard work." Joan walked up the steps, shielding herself from the rain with her hood. Joan stopped just outside the door and turned to face Macey. "You can handle a little hard work, can't you?"
Macey stared as Joan entered the Brownstone, leaving her soaking wet out in the rain.
Macey took a deep breath. "You don't know what I can handle." She jumped up the steps and followed them inside.
THANKS FOR READING!
I ABSOLUTELY LOVE WRITING THE CHARACTER OF MACEY! AHHHH I LOVE HER!
PLEASE FAV/FOLLOW/REVIEW!