August Holmes, Sherlock's Daughter

Chapter Ten: Foot Tattoos

Life at 221B Baker Street has been quite uneventful lately. I continued to help Molly at the Morgue and occasionally help Sherlock and John on cases. Ever since John's blog had gained in popularity, we had tens of people at our doorstep a week. Some clients were interesting, others... not so much. It was usually married couples who were having relationship problems, or a suspecting wife who thinks her husband is having an affair. Boring. I got to meet a bunch of unique people though, which was always fun.

"I'm bored." Sherlock muttered, sighing in exasperation. I looked over to him, he hasn't had a good case in weeks. I think it wasn't only getting to Sherlock, but John has well. John seemed to be having leg problems again, it wasn't too bad but he did look a little stiff now and then.

"Molly wants me to help her at the morgue." I announced, standing up from the couch and looking at Sherlock.

"We'll go with you." Sherlock looked to John and nodded. I sighed and pulled my boots over my socks. Once we arrived at the Morgue I greeted Molly.

"August! I'm so glad you could help out today." Molly smiled whole heartedly at me. Molly and mine relationship was almost the one of two sisters. She told me all about her boy troubles, (which she had a lot of by the way) and I told her all about living with Sherlock and John. Sometimes it sucks being the only girl in the house. 

"It was no problem, I wasn't busy today." I smiled back.

Sherlock and John had gone into the room ahead of us and we followed them. Once inside, I noticed a woman with blonde hair. She had red marks all over her body which looked very unnatural.

"Do people actually read your blog?" Sherlock mumbled from his magnifier glass, oblivious to Molly and my arrival. 

"Where do you think our clients come from?" John replied, studying the woman.

"I have a website." Sherlock muttered. I smirked, sometimes he was just so dense.

"In which you enumerate two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. Nobody's reading your website." John retorted. 

I laughed out loud. John was right. I read Sherlock's website the other night, and he had five pages dedicated to different types of cloth material. It was a new type of extra.

Sherlock straightened up from inspecting the woman and pouts. "It's okay, Dad. I thought the two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash was very educating." I said sarcastically, grinning.

Sherlock looked up at me and smiled briefly, I don't think he knew I was joking. Now I feel bad.

John pointed to the red marks that I noticed a while ago, but when he turned to get Sherlock's attention, he was already walking out of the room. 

"I'll see you for dinner?" John asked me, taking off his gloves in preparation to follow Sherlock.

"Actually no, Sophia and I are going to get dinner. I'll be home by 10." I announced, hiding my smile. Sophia and I have became really good friends these past couple of weeks. She made my life have a sense of stability with the craziness of Sherlock and all cases and Moriarty. 

Moriarty. We haven't heard a single thing from him, and I knew it was driving Sherlock insane. I had caught him more than once staying up all night trying to track his patterns, but with no luck.

"Oh okay. See you then." John said, turning on his heels and walking out of the Morgue, following Sherlock out the room.

"August, write up the lab reports for the last five bodies and then you may leave." Molly instructed, nodding her head in the direction of her laptop. I sighed, I hated lab work.