I Don't Need a Babysitter. (Sherlock Fanfic)

Chapter One: Welcome to Degan

I gaze out the backseat window, silent and sullen as we drive to the airport. My parents are in the front two seats, discussing the plan for their business trip. See, they're heading to Germany for three weeks because of the jobs they have at Knolle Air Force Base, leaving me to myself for a little while.

Or, so I'd hoped.

The reason why I'm sitting so sulky in my seat, staring out the window with all the teenage angst I can muster, is because my parents are bringing their friend all the way from fucking England to come and babysit me. I am eighteen for God's sake! I am a legal adult! I don't need a babysitter! But they insist that someone watch over me.

"So, Prenia," my dad says to get my attention.

"Hmm?" I hum in response.

"This man coming to watch you... he's an old friend of mine. I worked with him a lot when I was working in the police force in London," my father says casually as though he's trying to make conversation. His eyes flick up at me in the rearview mirror and I can see the smile in his eyes. "He's a brilliant man. Great detective."

"Why would you have a guy come all the way from London to watch me?" I ask, knitting my brows skeptically. Really, it makes no sense. They have plenty of friends who live just on the other side of the valley to come and keep an eye on me.

My father chuckles. "Figured he could use a change in scenery. Needs a vacation," he replies plainly, scratching the chin beneath his thick beard. "Plus, the guy owes me a favor."

"For what?"

"Well, he had a bit of a tendency to get himself into trouble when working on certain cases."

I furrow my brows, slightly concerned at my father's answer. Just who is this guy? What kind of trouble does he get into? Should I be concerned?

"What happened?" I ask, curious and slightly apprehensive.

My dad bites his top lip, staring out the windshield silently for a moment before answering my question, "Long story short, I ended up saving his life a few times."

My eyes widen. Man, this guy really does owe my dad one. If he is getting himself into life-threatening situations, why is he coming to watch me?

My father looks at me in the rearview mirror once again, probably noticing the look of concern on my face. "Don't worry," he says with a chuckle, "there isn't much trouble he can get into where we live. Unless, of course, he tries to catch some stupid kids cow-tipping."

"Pfft!" I scoff with a small grin, rolling my eyes at his last comment. He's right; nothing of much importance really happens in our neighborhood, let alone the whole town. That's the nice thing about small towns: they're always quiet, calm, and peaceful.

We finally arrive at the airport, and after a few minutes of cruising around the parking lot, we find ourselves a spot. We all get out of the car, making our way over to the entrance of the large building, and pushing through the clean glass doors.

After several minutes of repeatedly losing track of my parents and having to search through crowds of people to find them again, we take a seat next to a large window overlooking the city. I stare out at the horizon, examining the tall buildings that jut out of the sea of apartments and shops, some new and almost sparkling, others crappy and rundown. God, what I'd give to be at City Creek Mall right now...

"Hey! Look who it is!" I hear my father say in a very jolly tone. "Holmes! How's it goin', buddy?"

"Honestly, I'm already itching to go back home," a deep, rich voice says, sounding slightly annoyed. I quickly turn my head to see the source of it.