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

Chapter 4- Speedy's cafe

"-and then," said John, laughing and throwing his head back, "then Sherlock thought I had thrown it in the water, so jumped right in to get it!"

"No!" said Elizabeth, smirking, "He wouldn't do that!"

"You bet he would."

"In front of all the London police?"

"Sure thing."

The girl smirked and then the pair laughed until they were quiet once more. The father looked down into the coffee, which was cupped in his hands on the table.

"Did you find them eventually?" Elizabeth asked, her voice hushed, "The thieves I mean?"

John shook his head and eyed the room around him, before leaning forward to whisper, "No but we're off to the waterside tonight, I'm sure we can catch them in the act."

"Can I come?"

"You most certainly cannot." smiled John, "What would Mrs Porter say if I had you up until 4am on the first day back at school?"

"Mrs Porter wouldn't care even a smidge." was Elizabeth's reply.

"Even if she wouldn't, then I would. Come on now, drink up, we'd better get back."

The girl took a final swig from her mug and the pair stood up. They shouldered their coats and stepped out of the Speedy's café, into the cold night air. They hurried up the steps of 221B and John fumbled with the key. The pair then stepped into the hallway and closed the door, before falling against it with a thud.

Then there was a pause and they looked at each other. Elizabeth's expression began to morph itself across her face until suddenly, the suppressed emotion fell from them both, in a burst of hysterical laughter.

"Is it done?" asked Sherlock, as a tall, dark silhouette stepped into the hall. His face was blank but this set John off evermore. Elizabeth managed a nod, but tears were creeping into her eyes.

"What did they hear?" he asked, stepping closer and ignoring their foolish behaviour.

John shook his head to clear the joke away, but his laughter could not supress itself entirely.

"They-" he tried, before stopping and taking a breath, "They know we'll be off to the waterside tonight. There's no doubt they'll follow."

"They were on the table just behind us." added Elizabeth eagerly, "They never knew we'd recognised them. It was so much fun- we fed them all sorts of information."

Then the girl glanced at her father and they were set off once more.

"Good." nodded Sherlock, though his expression became a little confused and doubtful. Then he strode away into the flat, hearing all he had needed.

"Nice work, Lizzy." said John to his daughter, shaking her hand melodramatically when his laughter had died down, "At least some good comes from being a Nosey old Parker like you."

"I'll have you know sir," joked Elizabeth, putting on her best posh-voice, "if it weren't for me, those meddling thieves would be running riotous. If it weren't for your Nosey Parker getting involved, you couldn't have set your trap."

John shook his head and laughed, ruffling his daughter's hair and putting his arm over her shoulder as they slipped off their winter boots.

*

"It's because I don't have my lucky battleship." said Elizabeth that same night, as she rolled the dice and moved her piece to 'Trafalgar Square'.

"That'll be £300 please." said her father smugly.

"Stupid wheelbarrow." she muttered.

"It's nothing to do with luck or that wheelbarrow Emma. It's pure fact and strategy." pronounced Sherlock from the sofa, where he sat reading the paper.

"But I never lose like this when I have the battleship."

"You shouldn't have lost it then." said John.

"How do you know it was me? Anyone could have misplaced it."

"Because you are the only person ever to use it." replied her father, rolling the dice in his hands and throwing it across the board, "Who else would have taken it out of the box?"

"Mrs Hudson?"

"When have you ever seen Mrs Hudson play monopoly?"

"Mrs Hudson does all sorts of things."

"You just need an excuse for losing."

"Erin isn't losing." interrupted the man on the sofa.

"My name is Elizabeth, Sherlock."

"Elizabeth you aren't losing."

The girl and he father turned quizzically towards him, their eyebrows raised into the same, simple expression for which he was always answering to.

"John has all of the red, brown, green and pink zones but you have the orange, yellow and blue, which amount to considerably more and are landed on up to twice as much per square, due to the seven, which is the most commonly rolled number of the dice, reaching a player to the orange section after visiting jail, and the yellow squares which are positioned in a way that attracts players in their subconscious avoidance of the green and blue zones. Mayfair, for which you will have bought a hotel within the third roll, will cost John £2,000 from his current holdings of £1,400, which are not set to increase within the time it takes for Mayfair to expand, causing his bankruptcy and mortgaging of properties, which in turn will significantly reduce his holdings, meanwhile allowing you (who will be in the pale-blue, safe are by this time) to regain monetary control and increase expenses. Your new income from John will lead to subsequent purchase of a hotel for Marlborough Street, completing your set for the orange and blue zones, so that-"

"Thanks Sherlock." sighed John, looking to his daughter, who watched him smugly, "Honestly, will I ever win a game of monopoly?"

"Likelihood 5%."

"Well aren't you kind Sherlock?"

Elizabeth laughed and shook hands with her father victoriously.

"I'll clear up Lizzy, you go up to bed. This is the last time I agree to start a monopoly game with you at 7 in the evening."

The girl looked at the clock on the wall but did not feel tired.

"Just keeping you awake for your big night out Dad." she said, "Can I come?"

"No."

"Please-"

"No."

"But-"

"No. I've said already Liz, you're back to school tomorrow."

"Today actually." pointed out Sherlock.

"Yes. Today. So off you go and no more fuss please Nosey Parker."

The girl stood up with a stubborn slowness. She stepped over the board and kissed her father's head.

"Oh wait." he said, raising his arms, "Your hair's tangled." He tugged gently, releasing the fray from the knot around her ear, before squeezing her hand and watching her tiptoe to the door, "Put it in a safer place tonight Liz," he added, "I nearly trod on that darn thing this morning."

But Elizabeth hadn't heard. She had already slipped the hearing aid from her ear, as she trotted away and now it lay inconspicuously and delicately in her palm-

leaving her world as mute as the vacuum of the blackest hole in all the universe.