Felicity only went to bed when John insisted that she could not help Sherlock dissect some of his leftover stomach tissues in the fridge. She needed a step stool to reach the bathroom sink, but once her height was accommodated she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and got a boost up into Sherlock's large and mostly unused bed. John made sure that she was snugly under the covers before giving her one book to read (he knew that she'd finish the whole thing and want another, but she really needed to sleep) before leaving her in peace.
Felicity read for a while. Once she'd finished her book, she considered getting out of bed to explore Sherlock's room. He'd cleaned a lot for her, that much was obvious, but she wanted to see what he thought was too inappropriate for her to see. However, Felicity was also aware of how creaky and old the floorboards in his bedroom were; even if she was completely silent, getting back into bed would still make enough noise to get her caught. That left her staring around the room, cataloging details in her mind for future thinking. Eventually, her excited mind quieted and she fell asleep.
The next morning, Felicity got up very early, even before John. She padded into the living room to find Sherlock lying upside down on the couch, the blood rushing to his brain and making his usually pale face slightly flushed. "Are you alright?" she asked him, giggling slightly as he sank down even lower, his curls bouncing from the movement.
"Of course I am; I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine," Sherlock said in a slightly stiff manner as he struggled upright. He sat properly on the couch, fluffing his curls in annoyance. "I'm waiting for the next body. If Van Coon was threatened by who I think he was threatened by, there will be another body, and soon," Sherlock added for Felicity's benefit. He was strangely open to the idea of Felicity wandering around the flat, barefoot, with her usually tamed hair flying about. There was something about it that made 221B seem even more like home to him than ever before.
"That reminds me. What did Van Coon's suitcase look like? I need to know what he was doing in China and why." Felicity said, climbing up next to him. Sherlock chuckled, his fond expression masked as he helped her up. He was internally bursting with pride that Felicity was already starting to ask the right questions. He wanted her to excel, he wanted her to have fun, and her intelligence was a sure sign that she was having a good time.
"He had enough pairs of clothes for maybe three days of travel and staying in China. Also, the clothes were packed oddly, as if to pad a package he carried in his suitcase. Does that help you?" Sherlock asked, outright grinning when a look of realization passed over Felicity's face after a few seconds. Before either of them could say anything, Sherlock's phone beeped. He reached one long arm out to snag it off the coffee table. "Aha." He said triumphantly, and showed the phone to Felicity.
Another body found in a locked apartment. Help? –Dimmock
"Yay! Oh, can we go now, before John gets up? I really want to see this one, but he won't let me." Felicity half begged, half proposed as her eyes whizzed over the message from Dimmock. As much fun as Felicity had yesterday, she wanted to up the ante. She wanted to see everything, think about every possible theory; she wanted to get right into the action. Sherlock had given her a small glimpse of what his job was like yesterday and now Felicity wanted more.
"Of course I won't. It's a dead body, Felicity, and good morning to you too," John yawned as he came in, fluffing Felicity's hair on his way to the kitchen. Felicity huffed, sliding off the couch and following John, her untamed hair swirling about.
"Please, John? Please? I missed data when I couldn't see the last body or the apartment it was in. If I miss this one I might miss something really, really important." Felicity wheedled, treating John to the best puppy-dog-eyes he'd ever seen in his life.
"I'm your brother, remember? Would Charley let you look at dead bodies, people who have been murdered?" John prompted gently; just able to resist the adorable pleading of her gaze and only managing to do so because he put morals above wants. She may have really wanted to see the body, but John knew that it wasn't right and therefore wasn't going to give in. Felicity scowled. "Don't get too angry with me, Felicity. I'm just trying to be a voice of reason here," John said, starting to feel bad that he'd denied her. Felicity instantly brightened at his comment.
"Oh no, I'm not angry with you, John!" Felicity assured him quickly, giving him her sweet smile. "I'm angry with the conditions of the universe."
Both John and Sherlock chuckled as Sherlock walked into the kitchen. "Breakfast needs to be quick, John. The game is on!" Sherlock warned his flat-mate as he scooped Felicity up to help her get on top of a barstool so that she could sit at the table.
"Yeah, yeah, alright. At least you're giving me time for breakfast," John acquiesced. He made toast with jam and eggs as Sherlock quickly dressed and then insisted on taking over as the chef so that John could do the same. The two men set the table as Felicity hurriedly went back to Sherlock's room and changed out of her pajamas and into jeans and a t-shirt. She'd planned accordingly in hopes that Sherlock and John would take her in for the week, bringing all sorts of different types of clothing to help her blend into any situation. Felicity knew that there was a strong possibility of her running around the city for the rest of the day, and her school uniform would be far from appropriate. Once dressed and her flowing hair successfully tamed into pigtails, she returned to the kitchen.
Sherlock automatically reached over and picked her up, putting her back on her stool without batting an eyelid. He was drinking tea and reading the paper as John dug into his eggs. A plate with toast and eggs was waiting for her, along with a cup of tea. The sight of it made her excited; this whole day so far was making her excited! Despite that, Felicity quelled her anxiousness to go and promptly ate her breakfast. She finished just as quickly as John and they did the washing up together while Sherlock texted and waited impatiently. Once Felicity and John had brushed their respective teeth and were ready to leave, Sherlock practically stuffed them into their coats. "Yoohoo! Boys?" A woman knocked and entered before Sherlock could force them out the door. She was gentle, sweet, and reminded Felicity of a grandmother. "Oh, hello? Who is this?" She asked, looking down when she nearly ran into Felicity.
"Mrs. Hudson, Felicity Muller," Sherlock introduced them with a hint of what sounded an awful lot like pride in his voice as Felicity beamed up at Mrs. Hudson.
"You must be the landlady Sherlock mentioned! Hello!" Felicity said brightly, offering her a hand to shake. This wasn't her fake act to distract people, this was the real Felicity, the little girl who stole your heart within a minute of meeting her. Mrs. Hudson shook the offered little hand, looking dazzled.
"Aren't you the sweetest little thing! What are you doing with these two horrors?" Mrs. Hudson asked, glancing at Sherlock and John questioningly.
"We met her brother on a past case and he's put Felicity in our care for the week." John said calmly when Sherlock said nothing.
"I don't mean to insult you two, I really don't, but you two don't seem like the best caregivers to me! Why would her brother put her in your care?" Mrs. Hudson said slightly nervously, eying the skull grinning at her from the mantelpiece.
"You seem really nice, Mrs. Hudson. The man you're seeing doesn't deserve you at all." Felicity said suddenly, frowning as she studied Mrs. Hudson in a way not unlike Sherlock. "What kind of man has secret wives all over the globe?"
"Uh, that's why. Felicity is like Sherlock…just younger," John said hastily as Mrs. Hudson looked down at Felicity in shock, her surprise melting away under Felicity's sweet smile. "If we need help, we'll stop by, Mrs. Hudson, but we were actually just about to go out." John continued, deciding not to mention that they were going on a case; he didn't know how Mrs. Hudson would react.
"Of course! That would be just lovely, wouldn't it?" Mrs. Hudson commented, and Felicity nodded solemnly. "How old are you, dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked as Felicity took her hand and walked out onto the landing and down the steps, completely missing how Sherlock beamed after her.
"I'm seven. Seven and a half, technically, but I tell people that I'm seven," Felicity said in a factual tone as she and Mrs. Hudson stopped at the door to 221A. "I'll see you later, then?" Felicity asked as John took her hand, seeing that Sherlock was inching for the door.
"Of course, dear. You keep those two in line and don't let the crime scenes get to you. Yes, I know exactly where you're going, Sherlock Holmes!" Mrs. Hudson called at Sherlock's retreating figure. She gave Felicity a warm smile and a wave as they walked out the door. One taxi ride later (Sherlock and John spent the whole time wondering out loud who Felicity couldn't charm), the three of them arrived at their crime scene. The man who died was a freelance journalist by the surname of Lukis, who had lived on the fourth story of an apartment complex and was found dead in his apartment with all the doors and windows locked. There was an imposing man waiting for the three of them at the crime scene tape as they approached, but his grumpy look fell away to confusion as he noticed Felicity.
"Holmes, who the- who is this?" Dimmock demanded, pointing at Felicity in surprise, as if he'd never seen a little girl before. Dimmock had missed Felicity at the first crime scene because she and John had been sitting on the floor outside of Van Coon's flat. He'd also missed her because he wasn't very observant, so his surprise was magnified to see such a sweet child with Sherlock and John.
"Unimportant," Sherlock drawled, but Felicity interrupted.
"I'm Felicity Muller! You're a DI, right? Your job is super cool!" she crowed, and Dimmock blinked a few times, a smile starting to grow on his face to match the sweet one on Felicity's. He hadn't liked Sherlock before, but if this sweet girl was in his company then neither of them could be that bad, right?
"Yes, I am. Nice to meet you, Felicity," Dimmock said, shaking her hand when she offered it. "Why are you here with Sherlock?" he asked, glancing back up at the detective in question, quickly looking away from the thunderclouds building on Sherlock's face.
"He's looking after me for the day, he and John," she said, flashing her best 'I'm adorable and you know it' face back at her two guardians. "Can we go up?" She asked, ducking around his leg, observing the open doorway and the stacks of books on the stairs with a practiced eye.
"Actually…" John reined Felicity in, suddenly realizing exactly what she was doing. Flattery would get her a long way, to places that he knew that she shouldn't get in to. "I'll stay down here with Felicity while Sherlock takes a quick look." John used his authoritative army voice and Dimmock nodded, lifting the tape for Sherlock. John took Felicity's hand and gave her a look that said 'stay'. Felicity huffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes. They waited outside for less than ten minutes before Sherlock strode out of the crime scene, expression smug. He was holding an evidence bag that held a daily planner. Sherlock hailed a cab and asked the driver to take them to West Kensington Library. Once they were all comfortably inside, he cracked open the evidence bag.
"One dead journalist recently returned from China," was all Sherlock said, taking out the planner. Felicity gasped, her whole face lighting up. "Care to guess what we're dealing with here?" he asked her, amused at her excitement.
"Smugglers?" Felicity asked biting her lip and squeezing her fists in anticipation. Sherlock looked at her for a moment, then a grin broke his face and he nodded. "YES!" Felicity crowed in delight, punching the air and giggling like a maniac. Smuggling had been one of her two theories as to why Van Coon had been murdered. Now that Lukis was dead in the same fashion, smuggling made sense; the two of them died because they worked for the same group.
"Whoa, hold on. Smugglers? From China?" John asked, half amused with Felicity and half confused as to how they'd gone from a dead writer to smugglers in the span of thirty seconds.
"Two men, recently returned from China. Both had things packed into their suitcases- that's how they brought home smuggled goods. Both men were threatened and then killed, suggesting that the smuggling ring they are working for is missing artifacts and are trying to find who has been skimming from the pile," Sherlock explained.
"So why are we going to the library?" John asked, and Sherlock chuckled.
"Van Coon was threatened with the symbols, therefore, this man had to have been threatened similarly. According to his date book, " Sherlock flipped through the pages quickly, for emphasis, "the last place he was at before returning home was at the library. We'll find more of the code there," Sherlock said confidently.
"If they were both smugglers for the same ring, where did they bring their merchandise? How did they get it to auction sites?" Felicity asked herself under her breath, staring at the floor of the taxi in concentration.
"We'll get to that. Once we find the next part of the code, you and John will follow all of the information out of this date book. I'll go back to the bank and get Van Coon's date book from his secretary. We'll cross reference each other's data to find out where the drop off was," Sherlock said as the cab came to a stop. Felicity scrambled out after him, leaving John to follow. The started by checking the areas of the library that fit best with the type of books in the dead man's flat. After a few minutes, John called them over. He had pulled away the books at his eye level to reveal two symbols spray painted onto the back of the shelf. Seeing Felicity's immediate height-problem, Sherlock scooped her up and sat her on his shoulders. She rested an arm across the top of his head for balance as she peered down at the symbols, suddenly over six feet tall.
"It's the same message- a one and then a fifteen." Felicity reported. She ruffled Sherlock's hair and he mock-growled in annoyance, his mind going a million miles an hour under the curls.
"A change of plans is in order. Look at these books," Sherlock said, gesturing to the pile John had removed. They were in the section titled 'Ancient Histories' and all the books on the floor were about Chinese artifacts. "If our victim was looking for information, we need to do the same. Come on!" Sherlock insisted, walking out with Felicity still on his shoulders, her tiny legs and feet resting on either side of his scarf. John jogged behind them, catching up when Sherlock flagged a cab.
"Now where are we going?" He asked as Sherlock lifted Felicity off his shoulders and lowered her back to terra firma.
"The Museum of Art. Their website has indicated a high volume of ancient Chinese artifacts moving through their auction center. If anyone knows about the smuggling ring, it would be the head of the department," Sherlock said as the cab pulled up. The three of them raced to the museum, questioned an employee about the director, Soo Lin Yao, and her mysterious disappearance. "Useless," Sherlock muttered as they left. "You two, take the victim's diary. Scan his day to day activities. I'll do the same with Van Coon's receipts and we'll find their drop off location." Sherlock ordered, calling up a taxi for them. "Text me." He ordered before the cab sped off.
John and Felicity poured over the diary, looking for suspicious locations that made sense for a drop off. It didn't take for Felicity to suggest The Lucky Cat. John told their driver to take them to the Chinese District of London and a few minutes and a text later, Sherlock, John and Felicity met up outside of the store. Felicity ducked in without a word to Sherlock or John and went over to the cashier. Felicity started a conversation with her in fluent Mandarin, even though her eyes barely made it over the counter. With the cashier out of the way, John and Sherlock were free to snoop about the shop, noting the high volume of ancient artifacts. It was clear to Sherlock that this was the drop off; there was a suitcase behind the counter with a lot of tourist-y stickers from China. Felicity gave the lady behind the counter a cheery goodbye as John came over and took her hand, clearly meaning to steer her out. The three of them left the shop. "So, The Lucky Cat is the drop off. Did you learn anything interesting from the cashier?" John asked Felicity. She shrugged.
"Not really. I was talking with her about tourists that come into her shop and break things. You'd be surprised about how many swearwords that woman told a little girl like me. You'd think she'd behave better." Felicity said, and then looked around. "Where's Sherlock?" She asked. John glanced around and cursed, not seeing his friend on his first pass of the street. In the time they had taken to stop and talk, he'd vanished. Sherlock had a bad habit of disappearing like this, and John didn't want to deal with his antics when he had a second genius to look after. On John's second pass, he saw the dark coat of his friend whipping around a corner. "Come on," John muttered, tightening his grip on Felicity's hand as he hurried them after the detective. John and Felicity moved through an alley, finding Sherlock at the end of it. He jumped, catching the fire escape ladder that led up to a flat and pulling it down. "Sherlock, what are you doing?" John hissed, letting go of Felicity to stalk closer to Sherlock.
"Investigating," he replied, climbing up the black apparatus. Before John could follow, the ladder tilted back up to its upright position, out of John's reach.
"For the love of-" John fumed silently, cutting off a barrage of swearwords he'd learned in the army. Felicity didn't need to learn more cuss words from him.
"It's Soo Lin Yao's flat, if that helps you understand. It's more than a coincidence that she lives so close to a smuggling ring's drop off," Felicity said, and John turned. "There was a little sign by her doorbell at the front door," she continued gesturing back around the corner. John sighed, counting to ten before taking Felicity's hand again. They walked back to the front of the flat block. John rang the bell once, twice, three times while Felicity examined a long abandoned phone book by the front door. She looked up suddenly, scooted closer to the door, and pressed her ear against the wood. "Something's wrong, John," she said, sounding worried.
"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, knowing better than to doubt Felicity. She frowned, pressing her ear harder to the door.
"There's someone else in there. He and Sherlock are in an altercation," she continued, her voice rising along with her concern as she stood up from the door, backing away. John swore out loud this time and quickly checked the street. No one was paying much attention- tourists were held spell bound in front of shops and Chinese-European immigrants were hurrying on their way, engrossed in their own business. Risking a breaking and entering charge, John lined his shoulder up with the edge of the door and forced his way in, pulling his Browning once the movement would be masked by the door.
"Stay here, Felicity," John warned, and then entered the flat. Felicity paused by the door, fretting anxiously when she heard another, faster altercation before there was mostly silence. Seconds later, she heard someone (Sherlock, most likely) begin to hack out a cough. "Jesus, Sherlock- what the hell was that all about?" Felicity heard John exclaim.
"That was the murderer, John." Sherlock sounded extremely hoarse. "He's looking for Soo Lin Yao to kill her. We need to find out why." Ignoring John's worried and angry protests, Sherlock was suddenly in the doorway. It took Felicity seconds to see his mussed hair and clothes, to put the evidence towards a theory. Someone had been strangling Sherlock quite viciously- someone that was working for the smuggling ring. Felicity felt a pang of frustration and anger. Sherlock could have been dead on the floor because he rushed ahead and didn't include anyone else in his plan. It didn't help that she was just a child, barred from most scenes of crime because of her age. If things like this kept happening and she was unable to help, her friends might die.
"For someone so smart you're an idiot, Sherlock," she snapped, sending him a look that could freeze a lake. When Sherlock only blinked at her, surprised by her reaction, she scoffed angrily and started to walk away. John hurried after her, mindful of her safety, leaving Sherlock to follow this time. "If that wasn't a clear enough of a message for you, let me reiterate; that was a warning, Sherlock. If you do something that stupid again, you'll be dead." Felicity's tone was icy as Sherlock caught up to walk beside her. He jerked to a halt as her words sparked an idea in his head.
"Oh, brilliant. Felicity, you are a genius!" Sherlock crowed, swooping her up and spinning her around, planting a kiss on her forehead before setting her down. His mind was running a million miles an hour; symbols in yellow paint, messages, codes…
"Wow, Felicity. You insult him, tell him what to do, and he compliments you. I try to do the same thing and he belittles me. You can charm anyone," John marveled. Felicity smirked at his remark, but Sherlock ignored it.
"A message- a warning. There have to be messages all over the city for the smugglers, in the same graffiti style. No one would notice it among the other vandalism. If we find more of the code maybe we can break it." Sherlock said, eyes bright as he raced through the possibilities. The paint the smuggling ring was using was unique- it would stand out. With a bit of searching, the messages could easily be found.
"What about Soo Lin Yao? This smuggling ring must want her for something. Maybe she knows what the code means," Felicity questioned, her anger momentarily forgotten. Sherlock grinned down at her.
"Exactly. Soo Lin Yao is a loose end. She'll be able to read the code. We need to find symbols of value, not just a death threat, for her to decode. If she's evaded death for this long, she will avoid it until at least tonight. Once we find her, she can decode the numbers for us and give us more data," Sherlock explained in a strangely cheerful tone.
"What happens tonight?" John asked, trying to keep up.
"Soo Lin Yao won't move during the day. It's obviously too dangerous. I'm ninety seven percent certain she will return to the Museum tonight to finish her work. We'll intercept her there," Sherlock planned confidently, starting to get his voice back.
"And where do you plan on finding this so-called message?" John questioned. Sherlock's grin got even wider, if possible.
"That's the beauty of it, John! They will be in plain sight, probably on routes that our two victims would follow in their day to day life. Let's check the tube tunnels, roads near their homes and places of work, and, finally, by the railway station. There's got to be a message somewhere."
OoOoOoO
A/N: This was incredibly difficult to write! I didn't want to drag you through the plot line by line because I'm sure you all have seen The Blind Banker a million times but I'm worried that I breezed through this too quickly. Let me know if you are confused! I made some changes to the plot as well, just a few small things, but I'm worried that it may have confused you. Your reviews are SO nice I love all of you so much. Thank you!
Also, I'm still polling you guys- is everyone cool with future Johnlock goodness?
Regardless of that, there is more case-fic goodness (and danger!) to come! Unfortunately, you can't have it for a while. I have it written and everything but I'm getting my wisdom teeth out on Thursday. Depending on how I handle it, you may get your chapter in a few days or you may get it next week.
As always, lots of love to my beta, louisuperwholocked on Tumblr. You. Are. The. BEST! If you guys want to stalk, feel free to find her or me (I'm bitchinblackframedglasses). SPEAKING OF WHICH- I changed my fanfiction pen-name over to bitchinblackframedglasses because I wanted the two to be the same. I hope that didn't confuse you!