The Unknown Child (A Sherlock FanFiction)

XXIV: Daisy by Marc Jacobs

DEDICATED TO SHAYLEA13 FOR HER HELP WITH STARTING THIS CHAPTER. YES I STILL REMEMBER THAT LESSON SHAYLEA :)

Chapter Twenty-Four: Daisy by Marc Jacobs

I pace endlessly in my room, wondering when Sherlock will be home. I have opened myself up to James, making me vulnerable to judgment. I quickly pack up the documents, the examiner’s report and the police report back into the folder, and place it back into the dusty corner I found it. I pray to God that Sherlock doesn’t notice, for I would have to answer to him… and Molly.

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It was an hour later that Sherlock had arrived home, his hair was ruffled and his shirt all crinkled. He smelt of perfume… Molly’s perfume.

“Where have you been?” I huff, crossing my arms and slanting. “Took you long enough to get back.”

“None of your business Clara Eloise.” Sherlock grumbled. “Mind explaining this though?” He pulled out his phone and flicked up a picture. I snatched the phone out of his hand, scanning the photo as if my life depended it on it. I recognize that blond hair anywhere. It was James and I…kissing.

“None of your business William Sherlock Scott.” I say. “Have you been spying on me?” I question.

“Maybe.” He said, taking the phone out of my grasp. “You’re lucky I haven’t told Molly, she would kill that boy.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t kill you yet.” I say, giving him a snarky look. “What gives you the right to follow me everywhere I go?”

“You’re my daughter.” He said, moving past me and into his chair. “What makes you think you can go about kissing James?”

“Because I am a free thinking person and you can’t control my every action. I didn’t kiss him, he kissed me.” I say, setting myself down in John’s old chair. Silence grew between us, like a cancer.

“How are you and Molly?” I say. Sherlock gives me the darkest of stares, like he was burning the heart out of me. His eyes widen in surprise and he avoids all eye contact. “I may not be as smart as you Sherlock, but I’m not stupid.” I say. He rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Enlighten me.” He said, sitting up in his seat like he was eager to hear what I had to say.

“Well first of all, when you got home, I noticed your hair was more ruffled than usual, now it could have just been the wind outside, but there is not even a breeze. You could have done it to yourself, but you haven’t done that in the time of me living with you. So it left one thing, you were with someone, a woman. Then there’s your shirt, perfectly ironed when I saw you last, you come home and it’s all crinkled. The crinkles are positioned on your chest, one on either side, which makes these unique. Someone grabbed you by the shirt and pulled you towards them. How do I know it was towards them? I can smell faint traces of female perfume, Marc Jacobs’s Daisy to be exact. Now I know it is a popular brand and all, but I know only one person who wears it that you would be near, and her name is Molly Elizabeth Hooper.” I say, giving a smile at the end. “So it leaves me to conclude that you and Molly are in a relationship.” Sherlock sat there, motionless.

“You are good.” Sherlock said. “Very good.” He got up and came closer to me, his eyes moving from side to side, examining every inch of me. His eyebrows furrow in frustration.

“You aren’t going to get anything, I know you can’t.” I say.

“For now Clara, only for now.” He sneered. “But yes, you are right, Molly and I have begun what you so poetically call a relationship.”