Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. I own the plot and any characters you do not recognize from the show.

CHAPTER 5: THE GAME BEGINS

Sherlock suddenly paused in his story. "A car has pulled up outside."

John blinked at the sudden change. Sherlock jumped up and headed for the window, looking out. Violet, who had been quietly examining the experiment in the kitchen, appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes wide.

"A police car…" Sherlock muttered to himself. "Lestrade."

Footsteps sounded on the stairs as Sherlock turned to face the door. It opened.

Sure enough, it was Lestrade. His hair was tousled and his eyes were wide with surprise and a hint of fear. He clutched a slip of paper in his hand.

"There's been a development." Sherlock said calmly. "What?"

Lestrade, who was out of breath, simply held out the slip of paper.

It was white printer paper, with a single line of typed script in black letters across the middle.

YLLNVRFNDHR

Sherlock examined this intently while Lestrade spoke.

"We were in Patty Ellis's apartment…"

"Who's Patty Ellis?" John interjected.

"She's the young lady who's missing." Lestrade explained quickly before turning back to Sherlock.

"Anyway, 'bout one this morning, Donovan was coming to relieve Williams of his shift when someone suddenly rushed past her, shoving her against the wall. She says when she continued into the apartment, Williams was knocked out and that paper was taped to Miss Ellis's jewelry box with a strip of blue masking tape."

Sherlock stilled, shoulders stiffening and eyes freezing in their trek across the paper. Lestrade did not notice: in fact, the only person who noticed was Violet, who had been watching the proceedings with great interest and now fastened her bright blue eyes on her father. A slight frown graced her features.

Violet's P.O.V

What was wrong with Daddy?

Violet had no idea, but she knew it had something to do with blue masking tape and the missing lady's jewelry box. It seemed silly to her. What could possibly be scary about blue masking tape and a jewelry box? Aunt Sabrina had owned a cheap metal jewelry box Violet was not allowed to touch, and several rolls of blue masking tape. She had threatened many times to tape Violet's mouth shut with the stuff.

But Violet trusted Daddy, and so she narrowed her eyes, trying to think about anything dangerous about a jewelry box and a piece of blue masking tape. She came up with nothing.

Then her eyes focused on the piece of paper, which Daddy had set down on the arm of his chair, the arm closest to Violet. He and Lestrade were talking now in low voices about the sig-nif-i-gance of the code on the paper. Violet moved forward slowly and picked it up.

Her eyebrows scrunched in thought as she examined the strange line. Was it just one big word?

She gave her head a little shake. No. It couldn't be a word. There weren't any…

She blinked.

There weren't any vowels.

She looked closer. No. There weren't any vowels. You needed vowels to make a word. A com-pre-hen-si-ble one, at least.

Daddy had said once that if she didn't know what something said, to sound it out. So she did so, carefully sounding out each part.

Lestrade P.O.V

A small voice behind Lestrade spoke.

"Yll… yll...you'll?"

He turned quickly. A little girl was standing behind him, eyes focused on the slip of paper, which she held tight in small hands, her brow furrowed in concentration. Sherlock glanced up, watching the child closely.

"Nvr...never. You'll never." the little girl muttered.

Suddenly seeming to notice how quiet the room had gotten, she looked up. Lestrade, John, and Sherlock were all staring at her. She blinked her bright blue eyes for a second, then held out the hand that held the paper. Her voice was quiet and a little shy.

"I think I've solved it, Daddy."

Lestrade blinked. He had no children and he knew John didn't have any. There was of course no chance of Sherlock having any children. So who was this little girl addressing?

"What do you mean, you've solved it?"

Apparently she was addressing Sherlock, which very quickly pushed all thoughts of the case into the back of Lestrade's mind.

"There aren't any vowels, Daddy. See? No a, e, i, o, or u."

Sherlock took the paper from her and examined it quickly. His mouth moved, forming words too quickly for Lestrade to see. Then he lifted his head and gazed at the little girl for a long moment before a huge grin suddenly spread across his face and he laughed, reaching out and pulling the little girl toward him in a tight hug. She giggled and hugged him back.

"Brilliant, Violet, brilliant!"

So her name was Violet, Lestrade thought in a rather detached fashion, still watching Sherlock hugging the girl. He had never seen him hug anyone, much less call anyone brilliant… unless he was being sarcastic.

"Lestrade." Sherlock was holding out the paper. Apparently Lestrade had spent more time than he thought staring at the pair, because Sherlock had scribbled something on the piece of paper beneath the line of typed text.

You'll never find her.

"Rather ominous." Sherlock remarked dryly, standing straight again. Violet was on his hip, one little arm thrown over his shoulder. Now that their heads were level, Lestrade was suddenly struck with the similarity of the two dark, curly heads and the two sets of blue eyes. Both were watching him, Sherlock's slightly annoyed, Violets merely filled with a bright, childlike curiosity. "I expect that the person who wrote it was rather inclined to be unnecessarily dramatic."

"Who-" Lestrade cleared his throat and endeavored to speak calmly. "Who's this?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him but replied simply "Violet. My daughter."

Lestrade felt the world spin out of control.

"Your- Your what?" he managed.

"My daughter, Violet, who has quite admirably solved the code for us, I might add."

It occurred to the tiny part of Lestrade's brain that wasn't reeling to be slightly humiliated by the fact that a child had solved the code, but he decided that if Sherlock Holmes could have a child, then a five-year-old girl could solve a code that had stumped the London Police.

Lestrade took the paper from Sherlock's hand. "I'd better… get this back."

"Yes you should."

Still dazed, Lestrade turned to leave.

"I must go too, Mary will be waiting." John said quickly, standing.

Both said their goodbyes, then walked out of the door. As soon as it closed, Lestrade turned to John.

"What the bloody hell just happened!"