Elizabeth Watson (John Watson's daughter- Sherlock fan fiction)

Chapter 2- Scruffy Hair and Sleepy Eyes

John was sat on the sofa in front of the television, though he was not really watching. On his lap was his computer and his eyes were scanning through pages of reports and articles.

Then he heard the creak from the hall.

John smiled to himself. He loved the way she stumbled along, trying her best to be quiet but always flailing and fumbling, as any child would.

He turned his head to her as she wandered into the room. Her scruffy hair and sleepy eyes told him all he needed to know.

"Nightmare Papa." she whispered.

John shifted the laptop off from his knees and held out his hand to her. She stumbled over and he scooped her up.

"The same one?" he asked, talking quietly into her ear. She nodded and he squeezed her into a hug. They rocked back and forth for a while, watching the television screen as the news recalled itself to them.

"Is Sherlock not here?" she asked then.

John chuckled. Sherlock was always up late but tonight, John was enjoying the peaceful quiet of the flat without him.

"No, he's away."

"His shoes weren't in the hallway."

John looked at his daughter. Even in the first three years of life, she was making deductions. He never knew whether it was a good thing to have her growing up alongside Sherlock. He hoped it was.

"What is your case Papa?" she asked, pointing to the laptop where it sat beside them.

"Why should I tell you Nosey Parker?" he smiled.

"Because I want to be like you and Sherlock, Papa." was her reply.

"Well, let me see now." John furrowed his eyebrows and tapped his chin, "Our client, she is small, perhaps 3 foot 2. Blond hair I think it was. A liking of the music and books. She can recall all the elements of the periodic table forwards and backwards. She is curious, but oh she is a troublesome one, I'll tell you. Seen anyone matching that description?"

The child burst into laughter and placed her hand over her mouth in glee.

"Think the nightmare's gone now?"

The girl nodded, still gleaming.

"Want me to do your hot water bottle?"

"Yes please Papa." she said.

John lifted her from his lap and placed his daughter in the nook of the sofa. He trotted out to the kitchen and filled the kettle. His daughter always had her hot water bottle, out of the comfort of habitat more than necesity. He pressed the switch and the surface vibrated with the rushing of energy through the water.

John placed his elbow on the ledge and lent his head onto it. He got tired staying up late. He closed his eyes for a moment and listened. The flat was peaceful and the bubbling of the kettle hummed like a dream.

"Papa?" came the small voice from the other room. John lifted his head with a start, "Papa, is this your real client?"

John shook his head.

"Stop reading my laptop, Nosey Parker!" he joked.

"I'm not Papa."

John furrowed his brow again and stepped backwards to look through into the room. He could not see so found his way to the door and pushed it aside.

The boiling kettle became a furious, thundering alarm bell.

"Nearly as cute as you isn't she." whined the figure in the room. He was slender and sinister and crouched before the child. His bony hand was reaching to stroke her cheek but she was recoiling in confusion.

John's eyes were hard. He dashed across to the sofa and swept his daughter into his arms, one hand raised in defence of them. He held her tight and her expression drove to confusion.

"Get out of my flat." said John as firmly as he could.

The figure let out a snigger, reaching to stand up.

"Aren't ordinary people adorable?"

"Shut up." said John.

"I wasn't talking to you."

John covered his daughter's body with his free arm.

"Anyway," continued the man with a sigh, "I just thought I'd pop in and say hi. Shame Sherlock isn't here. I do miss him- will have to get a replacement soon I should think." he looked down at his shoes and drew circles in the carpet with his feet. Then he took slow, steady steps towards the pair and John stumbled backwards, fumbling into the corner of the room.

Moriarty reach out for the door handle and let it open with a slow creak.

"Goodbye." then he reached his neck into the corner, close to the child's face and whispered, "See you round, Elizabeth Watson."