Promises Series

Promise of Love - Fight to Forget

The title of this chapter is "Fight to Forget" by RED.

Sherlock frowned at the cookbook, marking up the directions with a red pen.

"I don't think you're supposed to do that," Julia commented, pulling the orange juice out of the refrigerator.

"If I follow these ridiculous requirements, the chicken will end up dry and tasteless. Cooking is chemistry, Julia. I know what I'm doing."

"If you're sure," Julia replied easily.

"I am. Now, go get dressed."

The flat was almost silent as Julia made her way upstairs.

"Don't poison the Goodes, Sherlock," John called from where he was tidying up the sitting room. "We want to make a good impression."

"If I wanted to poison the Goodes, no one would know about it. I would be able to do it with no problems. You know that, John. Also, I don't see why we have to make the good impression. Granted, I'm not an expert on social situations-" At this, John laughed. "-but one would think the parents of the girl who beat my daughter to a pulp should be the ones trying to make a 'good impression.'"

"Sherlock-"

"I only agreed to this because she wanted it."

"I know."

"She wants to help."

"Yes."

"That girl nearly broke her ribs, and she wants to have her over for dinner because she thinks someone is hurting her."

"And?"

"And that means she's a better person than I am," Sherlock laughed bitterly. He felt John's arms wrap around his middle and relaxed into John's embrace, sighing. "I never wanted this to happen to her."

"I know. But it did, and we have to deal with it now."

"You don't understand." Sherlock turned around in John's arms. "It was because she observed. She deduced that someone was hurting the other girl."

"This isn't your fault."

"Of course it's not my fault, John. She figured out my feelings for you within ten minutes of my mentioning your name."

John was silent for a while, which gave Sherlock time to think, as if he wasn't already thinking. This was what he'd been dreading. He'd considered it happening to Julia, being targeted, but never in much detail. The thought of someone wanting to hurt his daughter made his stomach turn, so he'd tried to avoid thinking of it altogether.

"It happened to you, didn't it?"

"The only thing that gives me comfort is that she was defending someone else."

"It'll be over quickly, love. Just try to help them, okay? Pretend they're clients."

Sherlock let his forehead rest against John's. They stood together for a few minutes, their eyes closed. When the doorbell rang, Sherlock dropped a gentle kiss on John's lips. Julia bounded downstairs and into the kitchen just as they were pulling away from each other. She twisted her hands nervously as Sherlock made his way downstairs.

He opened the door to find a family of four standing outside - a man, a woman, and two teenagers, a boy and a girl. Sherlock plastered a fake smile on his face.

"Ah, hello. Good evening. Please, do come in," he greeted. "My name is Sherlock Holmes; I'm Julia's father. We're in the flat just upstairs."

"Isaac Rodney. Pleasure to make your acquaintance," said the man, holding out his hand.