Sherlock's daughter.

Now what?

I pointed at his shirt. A red laser sights was pointing at his heart. John pulled him back into the morg. Gun fire began.
"Go! Go!" John pushed me and Molly into the lab.
We dove behind the counter. Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Sherlock put his hand on Molly's mouth to keep her from screaming.
"Where did he go?" An American spoke.
"He could have looped around the back! Come on!" Another yelled.
The door slammed behind them.
Sherlock removed his hand. I let out a heavy and relieved sigh.
"Who were they?" John asked.
"I don't know," Sherlock replied, shaking his head.
"What did they want?" Molly asked.
"Me dead probably," Sherlock replied.
"Why?" I asked.
"Again. I don't know," he replied.
"I need some tea," I groaned.
"Me too," Molly nodded.
We all stepped wearily outside.
"Does Mrs. Watson know? That you alive I mean?" I asked.
"Yes I stopped there ok the way here," he replied.
"Let's go for dinner," Molly suggested.
"I'm in," I laughed giving Molly a teasing look.
She glared at me blushing.
"Ok let's go," John nodded.
My phone buzzed.
"Hello?...... really!! Interesting!! Ok we will be there in a second!!" I replied.
"Who was that?" Sherlock asked.
"Detective Greg he has a case," I replied:
"A murder?" He asked.
"Ya," I replied.
"Give me I mean us 10 minutes please!!!" I asked John.
"Fine meet us at the Italian restaurant," he replied.
"Yay!! Oh thank you thank you!!" I laughed hugging him then Molly.
"The game's afoot!!!" I yelled.
"It's the game's on," Sherlock corrected.
"Not to me!" I laughed hailing a cab.
We jumped in and drove to a hotel.
"When did it happen?" I asked.
"An hour ago. The house maid found him," he replied.
"So he was found hung here. But the security camera in here was covered with tape. And the windows and doors were locked from the inside. The hallway shows only him entered the room. Put the maids said they heard a bottle break and murmuring," he replied.
I started analyzing. Bottom of shoes damp. Smelled like alcohol. Scotch? Whiskey? Yes it is definitely whiskey! Floor underneath him is wet.
"It's obvious," I replied.
"It must me so boring in your idiotic brains," Sherlock replied.
"He committed suicide! He was drunk murmuring to him self," I replied.
"He threw the bottle at the wall and tied the rope," Sherlock added.
"Then he stood on a ice block. Jumping on it until it broke or waiting for it to melt," I replied.
"Ok. Thanks agains Holmes," he replied.
John was my legal guardian now. My name was Watson-Holmes. But I let it be. We hailed a cab and drove to  the restaurant. Brakes screeched. Windows broke. Screams filled the air.
"VIVIAN!!!!!"