August Holmes, Sherlock's Daughter

Chapter Five: Past Meets Present

It has been two weeks since the incident with the Chinese Circus. Sherlock has actually let me help with two out of five cases that he was assigned. It made me feel like I had some sort of purpose at 221B Baker Street, and in Sherlock's life. I wasn't just moping around the flat all day, looking for something to do.

I did go grocery shopping with John a lot too, he has always been the easiest to talk to. Although Sherlock and I are having a breakthrough with our relationship, it's going slowly.

Ms. Hudson took me clothes shopping just the other day, and I was able to buy new clothes for the upcoming winter months. I was so grateful for my new life, even if it was somewhat dangerous. Ms. Hudson had told me that I needed to make friends my age, that hanging out with a bunch of middle aged men all day was going to do me no good. I laughed, but agreed with her. As much as I did enjoy spending time with John and Sherlock, I missed the comfort in having friends my own age.

Sherlock took me over the Scotland Yard often, he had told me that it was to keep me out of trouble, but I knew he liked knowing that I was safe and busy helping Molly (and not touching anything at the flat). When Sherlock introduced me to the Scotland Yard as his daughter, almost everyone had flipped out.

"You have a...daughter?" A man with grey hair, who I later knew as Lestrade asked.

"I thought that I made that quite clear." Sherlock mumbled, obviously not interested in humoring him.

"Where's her mother?" Molly had asked, flushing a deep red.

I sighed. "She died in a car crash, along with who I thought was my father and my little brother." I glanced around the room. Sherlock was examining a dead body, while Molly and Lestrade kept staring at me.

"I'm...I'm so sorry." Molly said, squeezing my shoulder in comfort. I was tired of that word. Sorry. I didn't need anybody's pity.

"It's fine." I remarked curtly.

Sherlock must have asked Molly if I could help her out at the morgue, because he started dropping me off there every couple of days. I was smart enough to know what he was doing, but I had actually liked helping Molly so I didn't complain. It would look really well on my resumé for when I wanted to go to Uni, or get a job anyway. Molly quickly became a good friend.

Sherlock and John had also tried to teach me how to use a gun, which went as well as you could guess. Sherlock claimed that I needed to know how to defend myself if the situation ever occurred, and John agreed with him.

"God. August just hit the target. It's not that hard." Sherlock sighed in exasperation. I had a pistol in my hands and I had missed every target I tried to hit. I even took out one of the lights on the ceiling.

"Here, try holding it this way." John moved my hands to a more comfortable position. I tried to shoot the target again, and had actually hit my mark.

"There you go!" John cheered, grinning. I had to grin back, the ex solider's smile was contagious.

"Try one more time." Sherlock had said, standing slightly behind me. I raised the gun and squinted, holding the gun the way John had shown me. I pulled the trigger and I hit my mark the second time.

"Yes!" I had cheered, grinning up at Sherlock after I had set the gun on safety. He paused, but then finally gave me a soft smile.

"You're doing better." Sherlock had said. It was extremely rare to get him to say anything that sounded like a compliment. I beamed at him, "Thanks."

It was a slow afternoon at Baker Street. Sherlock didn't have any cases he was currently working on, so he was bored. John had gotten a job at the surgery, so I didn't see him as often as I would have liked to. I missed him while he was at work.