"Sherlock it wouldn't hurt to ask her." John said whispering under his breath.
"I don't wish to know the answer." Sherlock replied keeping an eye on the kitchen.
Not wanting to know an answer is not normally something Sherlock would say, but when it came to his daughter Sherlock wanted nothing to do with her.
"Do you boys take sugar with your coffee?" Guinevere asked in a chipper voice from within the
kitchen.
John had scheduled a mid morning coffee get together with Guinevere hoping that this event would go better than the last one. So far it had not. Sherlock had refused to greet her at the door and then before she could sit down she insisted that she make the coffee despite being the guest.
"No sugar for me, thank you." John hollered from his chair. He signaled Sherlock to give her an answer but he just sat there adjusting his violin strings.
"Sherlock doesn't take sugar either." John said with a huff at his friend.
Guinevere entered the room and set the tray of coffee down careful not to get any on her Paolo
Sebastian black sundress. She had decided to dress modestly for the event and decided that her simplest black dress and her plain Valentino red high heels would be perfect for the occasion. She pulled half of her curly hair back and wore her staple red lips to tie the look off. In her opinion she looked rather plain and felt bit like a slob.
"Thank you for having me this morning I'm so glad we could get together again. My, I haven't seen this apartment since I was a little girl."
She looked around feeling nostalgic about her childhood years when she would eagerly hope for the last Friday of the month when she would take the train to her fathers. Her short legs still in her school uniform skirt would swing back and forth as she told the other passengers all about her father and what a wonderful man he was. The train would pull up and she would grab her luggage and run out onto the platform hoping to see her tall father standing there ready to scoop her up in his arms and take her out to dinner while asking about her day. Instead she was always met by Mrs. Hudson making some excuse as to why her father was held up at work but wished he could meet her at the train. Deep down Guinevere knew that her father didn't want to meet her and that he wasn't sorry. Mrs. Hudson would always take her back to the apartment and they would talk for hours until the late nights when her father would come home. Guinevere would run from the kitchen into the living room so excited to see her father. He always took one look at her and lit a cigarette retreating back into his room mumbling about the next case.
"I must say it has gotten cleaner since John moved here. When I came to visit the place would
always be a mess." Guinevere added after her awkward silence.
"I try and keep it neat but it's hard when he comes home. Guinevere, do you happen to know of a man by the name of Jim Moriarty?" John asked looking hopefully at her. Guinevere paused while adding her sugar.
"Who?" She asked with a sweet smile.
"His name is Jim Moriarty and he runs some sort of criminal activity. We were wondering if you had any sort of connection to him or have heard anything about him. He has been terrorizing your father for a while and we need more information on him if we wish to get to him." John said hoping she would understand.
Guinevere looked offended.
"What makes you think I would know anything about criminal activity?" She said clutching her heart.
"Because you are a criminal." Sherlock added getting up to move to his desk to shuffle through some papers.
"I am no criminal. Everything I do I am authorized to do. I have special permission. I do not work outside of the law." Guinevere said looking intently at her father. "I have never heard of Jim Moriarty. I try not to associate myself with criminals."
There was an awkward pause in the room which was interrupted by Mrs. Hudson coming up with the mail.
"Oh Sherlock I didn't mean to interrupt you- Guinevere!" Mrs. Hudson set down the mail and embraced the young woman.
"Look at you! You're all grown up. I hardly recognized you. It was that curly black hair that gave you away. Sit down please! How have you been? Where have you been? It must have been about ten years since I last saw you. You look beautiful. Oh how did you do your makeup like that? You will have to teach me. Are you staying lon-"
"Mrs. Hudson will you please shut up!" Sherlock exclaimed as he slammed the papers he was looking through on the desk.
"Sherlock that is no way to talk to Mrs. Hudson. I am fine." Guinevere said turning to Mrs. Hudson who looked slightly fallen at being yelled at by Sherlock. "I was in town for a wedding. I have spent most of my time in Moscow where I handle my own business. Occasionally I have to go to St. Petersburg for business trips. You would love it there! And I just use a very black and sharp eyeliner." Guinevere finished with a charming smile.
"Oh my you're a business woman! What business are you in?" Mrs. Hudson said innocently looking at Guinevere.
John and Sherlock sat forward anxiously waiting to see what sort of an answer she would give to the landlady. How could she cover up whatever her job was really called?
"Well technically I work for the government. I am a missing persons investigator. I just have my own private branch that helps out the government." Guinevere said flawlessly never missing a beat.
"Our own little Gwen is an investigator. My how you've grown up." Mrs. Hudson said looking at Guinevere with love.
"Her name is Guinevere. Not Gwen." Sherlock piped up from his corner. "She was named after Queen Guinevere from the tales of King Arthur. Lady Guinevere was a beautiful, desirable, yet manipulative woman. Or at least that was what the book said. Who knew the book I was reading in the waiting room at her delivery would have such good foreshadowing?" Sherlock said not even looking up from his papers.
An awkward silence swept across the room once more.
"Well would you look at the time. I have some shopping to do." John said looking at his watch while putting on his coat.
"Yes I have some cleaning to get done as well. It was nice to see you again Guinevere! I do hope you will be back and we can properly catch up!" Mrs. Hudson said following John as he left.
The door closed leaving Guinevere and her father the only ones left in the room.
Sherlock barely noticed the emptiness of the room and Guinevere decided to take this as an opportunity to have some bonding time with her father.
"Matushka is doing well. In case you wanted to know. Even though she always hated it when I came to visit you, she was the one that made me do it. She said I should get to know my father, mostly because she never did know you. She feels bad for keeping me away from you." Guinevere said this hoping he would look up and talk to her.
Sherlock didn't look up.
"I'm not here on some hidden agenda you know. I'm here because I wanted to get closer to you. I know you never liked me and that you haven't even thought about me for the past ten years but I have thought about you. I am here to make things right. You have it twisted in your head that I am some cold blooded killer. I am not." She said pulling up a chair closer to the detective.
He paused looking up from what he was doing. He got up and went into his room coming back with a file, placing it on the table in front of Guinevere.
"What is this?" Guinevere asked looking up at her father.
"This is your file. It includes everything about you since you turned eighteen." Sherlock said quietly.
Guinevere refused to open it up knowing full well what all horrors she would see if she did.
"You said I never cared nor noticed you but I did. I always have. You forget that when you were young I was young as well. I was about your age when you first started visiting me from your boarding school. I was upset that I had to put up with a small child while I was trying to work. I was young and immature. After your mother banned me from seeing you when you got older I realized that I had made a mistake. You were my daughter. You were my own flesh and blood and I treated you as if you were nothing. I knew I wasn't allowed to see you because your mother thought my lifestyle was a bad influence on you but I still wanted to be a part of your life. I had people keep eyes on you. I wanted to make sure you were safe. You were a normal teenager, you had friends, you enjoyed going out, and you had a few boyfriends. But then you turned eighteen and you journeyed on a dark path. I was still tracking your habits even when you were committing these awful crimes. I know everything. You have killed thirty four men. Thirty four. And not just murdered but burned to death. That is your preferred way of killing I have noticed. You seduce rich old men into falling in love with you and then you kill them taking their money as your own. And don't say it isn't a crime. Killing people like that is. I know that you have the governments approval because the men that you kill are all threats and criminals but that doesn't mean that you are innocent in all of this. You have changed since we last saw each other Guinevere. I am a detective. I am good and Guinevere you are evil." Sherlock said this all very fast and he refused to look at Guinevere the whole time.
"What makes you so sure that you are good and I am evil. Yes I do murder those men but it's my job. Do I get pleasure out of watching those men suffer? Yes because they are scum. They cheat on their wives, they run mobs, they drink too much, the kill they are not worthy of redemption. And yes I do burn them. Every serial killer has a different way of killing their victims. This is just mine. I give them a chance. If they admit to ever being in love with me they are forever. They get my initials carved into their chests so that they never forget the girl who bested them. If they say no then they die. Most men just make the wrong choice and say no. Only one man has passed my test so far. Yes I murder but it is legal. You should know better than anyone. I am here to build a relationship with you again Sherlock. I am staying whether you like it or not. London has gotten boring since I have last been here. I think it's time to shake things up."
And with that she rose from her chair and strutted out of the door.
Angel face.
Devil thoughts.