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bcimbatmandude · 2 years

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I squealed. Such a good writer!!!!

Imagine: Goku encourages you as you train with Vegeta.

You were extremely nervous and you had every right to be!

Goku was confident you had done enough training to win and outsmart Vegeta in a fight. Goku always had blind faith in you. You appreciated that.

You only agreed to this because Goku believed in you, otherwise you wouldn't have done this on your own but it was too late to back out now; you make your way to the other side of the field -- clenching your fists as your nerves were getting the better of you.

You throw your head back and look at the sky, I'm going to die. I have a death wish. Simple as that.

You whine to yourself as you bring your hands together, bending and twisting your fingers to relieve the pressure, you then quickly shake your hands and arms as you try and release all that tension down your fingers.

"Don't be nervous! Remember our training!"

Goku always loved cheering on for his friends, he always had positivity to spread. You admired that.

A loud growl can be heard from the other side of the field -- Vegeta.

"I'm almost ready!" You call out, preventing Vegeta from screaming at you.

"Well, hurry up! I don't have all day!"

You chuckle as Vegeta still yelled at you, I never win with him.

You exhale one last time as you stretch your neck side to side, and turn to face Vegeta.

"Well, about time!" Vegeta widens his stance and digs his heels on the ground, slightly bending his knees to allow himself to give himself that extra boost he'll need when he charges at you; raising his arms in front of himself to block or attack, "Hmph, prepare to lose Y/N!"

"Yeah, I'm ready to lose all right," You say under your breath as you get into my position.

"Come on, Y/N! You got this! Don't let Vegeta intimidate you!"

You look over to Goku who has a big smile on his face, he waves at you as he chuckles. It was a bit funny to see someone like Goku sit with his legs crossed like a toddler.

You press your lips together and show Goku a forced smile, Yeah, I'm going to die.

You inhale and exhale as you close your eyes and mentally prepare yourself for the beating of a lifetime. Well, it was nice knowing me.

You open my eyes and look at Vegeta as he smirks at you. You knew that look and it wasn't good.

"Please go easy on me, Vegeta." You beg as shivers ran down your spine.

"Hmph, now how will you ever learn if I do that?" Replied Vegeta in a condescending manner.

Vegeta places his left leg behind, shifting his weight onto his right and charges towards me at full speed.

You squeak as you quickly shift your stance, placing all your weight on your eft leg, dragging your right behind you. You use the front of your left forearm to block Vegeta as he came rushing at you, causing his opposite forearm to collide with yours.

You held your ground as he pushed towards you, using his energy as he floats off of the ground. Your feet begin to drag through the dirt as he pushes forward but you hold your ground.

Vegeta growls as he continues forward, "You're just going to let me push you around?"

"I'm hoping you'd attack first," You admit grunting through your words.

"Well, I was trying to be nice and let you have the first punch. Ha! If you can!"

"Wow --" You say, digging your heels into the ground even more, "What a -- gentleman."

"But my patience is wearing thin." Vegeta quickly pulls back and cocks his right leg behind, landing a powerful kick onto your side.

You squeak once more on impact as you soar above the field and land face first on the grass. Your body plops on the grass as you push yourself up, spitting grass from your mouth.

"Man!" You call out, as wobble onto your feet, "I have dirt in my mouth."

"You got this Y/N!" Goku continues to shout words of encouragement from the sidelines, clapping as he cheers you on, "You can do this!"

Vegeta crosses his arms, and closes his eyes annoyed, "Ugh, why am I even training with you?"

"Because," You begin as you pat off the residue of grass and dirt, "You secretly want me to be better at fighting because you care about me."

You notice a pink hue appear above Vegeta's cheeks as he turns away, "I do not!"

With Vegeta's guard down you quickly dash towards him, pulling your left arm back and jamming it through his stomach.

"Alright!" Screamed out Goku as he jumps onto his feet, pumping his arm in the air, "You got him!"

Vegeta folds forward as you land an uppercut with your right arm under his chin, sending him flying towards the sky. You go after him as he stares as the ground wide eyed, "You so totally care for me." You say again as you lock your hands together and raise them above your head, slamming them down on his back, sending him back down.

Vegeta bellyflops down onto the ground, while you gently float down.

Goku runs towards you and traps you in a bear hug, "Way to go! That was a nice combo, Y/N"

You grunt as you feel the air being pushed out of you, "Th--thanks, G-Goku."

Goku releases you and laughs as you gather my breath.

Vegeta stands on his feet upset, "Ugh, you attacked me while I was off guard!"

"You never said I couldn't do that." You laugh, crossing your arms. "Looks like I won. I finally found your weakness -- me!"

#goku #dragon ball z #kid goku #dragon ball #dbz #dbz vegeta #dragon ball super #vegeta x goku #ssj goku #vegeta

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bcimbatmandude · 2 years

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Friggin adorable 😩😩😩

Imagine: Celebrating Goku’s birthday

It was a special day you had been planning for months.

It was very rare to experience peaceful times on planet with Goku’s presence around. Something about this man being alive often brought havoc and chaos onto the planet.

You had recruited Bulma for help. After all, she was never shy about going all out for events. Besides, she could never say no to her little sister.

“Stop stressing out Y/N! Everything will go according to plan!” Bulma walks over to me and gives me a reassuring hug. “Since when have my parties ever known to disappoint?”

“It’s not that,” You say breaking free from Bulma’s hug. “It’s just that whenever Goku is alive long enough bad things form after sometime.”

“Everything will be alright. Now go get dressed and then go check-up on Goku. You know he can’t do anything without you.” Bulma winks at you and turns away, heading back inside the house.

You scoff and roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Where does she get that idea?”

—————-

You ruffle your hands through your hair as you smile and wink at yourself in the mirror, “Okay, Bulma! I’m heading out!”

You quickly jog down the stairs as you grab your snap brown clutch purse and keys.

“Wait, wait! Bulma pops her head from around the corner wearing her fitted red dress with yellow scarf. “What are you wearing?”

You turn around and extend out your arms showcasing your outfit to her, you’re wearing white skinny jeans that end at your mid-drift accompanied with a white tank top. Covering your tank was an unbuttoned pistachio colored shirt. The entire outfit beautifully topped off with tan colored pumps showing off your light pink colored toe nails. While your hair hung perfectly over your shoulders.

“That’s such a a cute outfit!” Beams Bulma as she winks at you, “Goku won’t be able to take his eyes off of you!”

“Anyways, I gotta go see if he’s ready! I’ll be back as soon as possible!” You swing your purse over your head and continue to head out the door. You put your hand on the doorknob and stop mid-twist, “Bulma —“

“Just go!” She says pushing you out the door, “Everything will be fine!”

You give her a shy smile and head out.

——————

You arrive outside of Goku’s place.

You land and take in a deep breath as the coolness of the forrest breeze greets you. The wind gently caresses your skin. You feel the sunshine against you and smile and head inside Goku’s house.

You walk through his house and see the door at the end of the hall open, “Goku?” You call out.

You peak your head through the door and see him standing in front of the mirror. Through the reflection you could see him struggling to adjust his tie.

You sigh and lean against the door frame and cross your arms, “You need help there?”

Goku turns around and flashes you a smile, “Oh, hey Y/N!” His eyes widen and his smile turns into disbelief as he looks at you, “Wow, you look amazing. Those color look beautiful on you. I mean — you look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You reply smiling. You walk towards Goku and finish adjusting his tie, “You look handsome yourself.”

You gently slide your hands on his suit to ruffle out any possible wrinkles, “You clean up nicely.”

“Thanks.” Replies Goku as he looks at you — smiling, “If I’m being honest, I’m still adjusting to life without Chi-Chi.”

You give Goku a sympathetic smile. “I know you are, but you’re doing great.“ You slide your hands down his arms and place them next to you, “You’re ready to go.”

“Don’t you think I’m overdressed?” Asks Goku as he turns to look back at the mirror.

“A little.” You reply, awkwardly rubbing your arm, “But it’s okay. It’s your birthday today, so you can do whatever you want.”

“I would prefer to be training on King Kai’s planet.” He replies smiling at you through the mirror.

“I promise, it’s only for a few hours. Once it’s all over you can train all you want. Please, do it for your best friend.”

Goku faces away from the mirror and looks at you directly, still smiling, “Of course, you know I will!”

“Great.” You weave your arm through his, pulling him close to you, “Come on, let’s get going!”

——————

You arrive at Bulma’s house.

Everyone you have ever meet throughout your adventures with Goku was there to celebrate his special day.

“Happy Birthday Goku!” Cheers out Bulma as she walks over to the two of you, champagnes in hand. “Here you go.” She hands one over to the two of you.

“Thanks Bulma.” Replies Goku, observing the drink, “I don’t drink.”

“I know you don’t, but one tiny sip won’t hurt you! Besides, yours is apple juice. Had to have some for the kids.” Bulma looks over to Goten and Trunks who were running around the yard.

Bulma walks away and heads towards the rest of the crowd, leaving Goku and you alone.

You grab Goku’s drink and set it down on the table with yours. “Here,” You unbutton his suit jacket and take it off of him. “You don’t have to be too formal for your own party.” You also remove his tie and unbutton the top two buttons of his collar shirt, you finish off his new look by folding up his sleeves, “That’s better.”

You hold his tie and jacket in your arms, “I like you better this way anyway.”

Goku chuckles as he scratches his head, “Thanks, Chi-Chi would never allow me to loosen up like this.”

“Well, she’s not here.” You reply walking towards Bulma’s house. “Follow me.” You call out looking over your shoulder.

Once inside Bulma’s house you set down his stuff on the couch and lean over it, grabbing Goku’s gift.

“Happy Birthday Goku!” You hand over the gift to him, smiling from ear to ear. “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met and you’re my best friend and I love you.”

Goku grabs the present, unsure of what to say, “You didn’t have to get me a gift. Your presence is a gift in it of itself.”

You blush and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “I know I didn’t, but I wanted to. I do hope you like it.”

“Anything you get me… I’ll love it!” Goku walks over to the table and places the box down and begins to rip the wrapping paper off. Within a matter of seconds Goku manages to open the box revealing a small book.

On the cover was the picture of the two of you as kids smiling and laughing. You had your faces pressed together. Goku was wearing his iconic orange gi while you were wearing an orange colored corduroy dress with a long sleeved white shirt.

This is one of your favorite pictures you had of the two of you, that you had to place it on the cover of the book.

“What is this?” Goku gently flips the book over — analyzing it.

“It’s a book that documents our entire friendship, since we were kids up until now. The book also contains jokes and insiders we created and it also has pictures we took or were taken of us.”

“A scrapbook?” Goku turns to look at you smiling. “You made a scrapbook about us?”

“Yeah, I wanted something that shows how much you mean to me and how much I love you and care for you that I figured a scrapbook would be the best way for me to do it.”

Goku walks over to the couch and sits down and gently opens the book, turning each page very delicately. You take a seat next to him, and place your hands between your thighs as you nervously wait for him.

Goku never stopped smiling once. He smiled and laughed and teared up from everything he was reading.

Watching Goku laugh and smile brought genuine joy to you.

After Goku finished reading the book, he gently holds it in his hands and holds it close to his chest, “Thank you, Y/N. This gift means a lot to me. It’s the best gift anyone has ever gotten me. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You reply blushing. “Oh, one more thing.” You rise and walk towards the bedroom, you return with a Polaroid camera in your hands, “Let’s take one more picture. To commemorate celebrating your special day. Since unfortunately we don’t celebrate your special day often.”

“Sure!” Goku stands up and walks over to you, towering over you.

Goku adjusts himself and presses his check against yours. You laugh and you extend out the camera in front of the two of you.

“Say ‘cheese’”

You press the button and the flash shines in front of you.

Within a matter of seconds the picture develops and shows you and Goku smiling and laughing. “We look exactly like we do when we were kids!”

“That’s my new favorite picture!” Goku takes it in his hand and opens the book to the very end.

“I’ll grab some tape!” I quickly run to the bedroom and return with tape. You hand it over to Goku.

Goku places the picture on the page and grabs a few strands and tapes it on the corner of the picture. He grabs a pen that was on the table and writes on the page, Y/N and Goku — forever, and ever and ever and ever.

#dbs goku #dbs vegeta #dbsuper #dbz #dbz vegeta #dragon ball super #dragon ball #dragon ball z #dbs #db

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bcimbatmandude · 2 years

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Goku embracing his childhood. 💕

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bcimbatmandude · 2 years

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The Breakdown: Is Goku a Bad Dad?

I see a lot of posts recently arguing why they think Goku is a good dad or not…

So I decided to give my two cents on the topic. This is a conversation and topic based off of good fun and my opinions on the matter.

This is not meant to make people upset or offended. In my experience people often tend to project their experiences into fictional characters as a way of coping (I hope I spelled that right) from their trauma or whatnot. However, it’s not always the case and people are just passionate. I know I’m passionate…

So let’s keep any future comments civil shall we?

Let’s begin: Goku growing up his main influence Grandpa Gohan.

when we first meet Goku in Dragon Ball, he is an innocent, silly and goofy kid that occurred after hitting his head.

his father figure was Grandpa Gohan. Grandpa Gohan took care and showed Goku love, although their first few encounters weren’t the greatest as Baby Goku was aggressive and tad bit rude.

I strongly believe that this interaction between the two left a lasting impact on Goku. The few times that Baby Goku was aggressive and overall not pleasant, never bothered Grandpa Gohan. Instead he did his best to love Goku and show him kindness, despite Baby G doing the exact opposite.

Due to these interactions, it demonstrated Goku that you can show kindness and forgiveness to anyone. However, the flaw in this is that since Goku was a baby he very likely doesn't remember any of this since it was before he had bumped his head. But I like to think otherwise.

Nonetheless, the time he had spent with Grandpa Gohan had a great influence on him and will continue to carry with him through adulthood. Growing up with Grandpa Gohan showed Goku unconditional love. Unconditional love is a life lesson he will continue to carry with his friends and eventual family he forms himself.

Goku learned martial arts from his grandpa, which taught him the basics he needed to learn in order to fight, but due to his Saiyan nature, Goku already had the urge and need to fight in him. The fact that his grandpa taught him how to fight reinforced the father figure image GG was casting over Goku. He taught him the basics of discipline and determination. Goku's determination is not something that should be confused with pride. It is his determination that is his driving force to be a better fight, unlike for other Saiyans -- it is their pride. Goku's drive to be a better fighter was something he thrives to accomplish for the sport of sparring and winning other stronger fighters, yet despite this at the end of the day he trains for himself and himself only. There is nothing wrong with putting yourself first and doing what you love if it will make you happy. I know other people can argue differently but if we all thought the same that would be a bit boring.

Second of all, after Goku learned he accidentally killed his grandpa after looking at the moon, his grandpa forgave him. Despite Goku committing a terrible act -- murder. Albeit, it was an accident but still. Grandpa Gohan forgave him, another powerful and lasting moment Goku will forever carry. Something he does best to try and demonstrate with his enemies -- forgiveness, and second chances.

Okay, now that I believe I've covered everything about the nature of who Goku is growing up alongside Grandpa Gohan, let's discuss the main topic.

Is Goku a bad dad?

The answer is plain and simple -- no. No Goku is not a bad dad and I will break it down in details and in-depth with evidence to support my thesis.

after the defeat of Piccolo at the 23rd(?) Martial Arts Tournament, Goku settled down and started a family with Chi-Chi. He would spend time with Gohan doing activities with him. When speaking to Gohan, Goku would speak in a soft spoken and sweet voice, since (most likely) he remembers the interactions he had with his grandpa.

During these few years Goku stayed with Chi-Chi most likely training in the woods. Which means... that Goku stayed with Gohan in his formative years as a toddler never once leaving his side. The one time we see Goku actually leave is because he sacrificed himself to save his son, resulting in him dying. In the heat of the moment, dying was the best solution Goku could find. He didn't die because he wanted to, he would have preferred to stay with his family but it was the best solution he can find.

Because of his sacrifice, Piccolo took it upon himself to train Gohan. Piccolo is not a better father than Goku but rather a father figure. Goku will always be Gohan's dad but there is nothing wrong with having father figures and Goku knows this since he himself had two.

after the Frieza saga, when Goku decided to stay on Yardrat and train instead of going home... there's nothing wrong with that. Goku trained to become a better version of himself and control his super saiyan, since it was something still very new to him. there's nothing with wanting to control and master the unknown to prevent possible danger to your loved ones. Plus, as I had mentioned before... it is in Goku's nature to thrive and become better for himself and himself only but of course this changes a bit since he as a family and his family is also another driving force for him to train and become stronger -- not only himself but his family. To be fair in life, you can't have it all, you can do one or the other, and Goku sacrificed his time with his family to become stronger to protect them (and of course for himself). This is where some reality comes into play, since we all must make sacrifices to obtain certain things.

Goku has been around and alive long enough to know when he isn't a match for someone and he knew he didn't stand a chance against Cell. Yes, Gohan isn't a fighter, but as mentioned before you must sometimes make sacrifices for the better. Goku knew that, which is why he wanted Gohan to fight Cell and put his true nature aside for a bit to fight. Goku has such love and faith in his son he knew he could defeat Cell, Piccolo on the other hand also loves and cares for Gohan but to the point he wanted to protect him instead of encouraging him to fight. Piccolo said it himself, he saw untapped power in Gohan as a young kid. If Piccolo hadn't said anything to Goku, Goku would have never doubted his son for a second, but because Piccolo spoke up from a place of worry, he unintentionally added self doubt to Goku.

Goku decided to spend time with his family when the world could have potentially ended in 9 days. Instead of training he decided to make-up for lost time by being with Chi-Chi and Gohan. Yes, many argue that a few days is nothing since a few years were gone, but hey, when you love someone hours can seem like days and days can seem like years.

Goku's blind faith can be a flaw, which did come into play during the Cell Games Saga, but sometimes blind faith is all we really have and all we have to go on.

Goku has always been a fair guy, so giving Cell a senzu bean only shows his fairness. Goku always loved doing what's right and fair and giving Cell a senzu bean was all legit. You never want to win and beat someone when they're not at their best -- that's just sloppy and lazy of whomever agrees to fight someone that way isn't right. I stand by Goku's decision of giving Cell a senzu bean. Plus remember it's just his nature of how he was raised by Grandpa Gohan, you can't blame him.

Goku sacrificed himself again for his son and the world. Take about selfless. Sometimes you gotta step in and he did and he saved his son in the best way he saw fit.

There is nothing wrong with wanting to stay in heaven. Goku died and saw that the world would continue to thrive and be alright with Gohan as the new savior. There is nothing wrong with wanting to take time for yourself after having the entire world rest on your shoulders since you were a kid. Talk about not having grey hair. The stress Goku probably had... there is nothing wrong with wanting to stay in other world and train and follow your passion. It's not selfish for wanting peace and staying dead. Goku trusts Gohan and knew that when the time was right Gohan would step up if need be.

People who haven't found their passion yet probably don't understand the need and urge to just do what you love.

Chi-Chi should have told Goku she was pregnant when she found out but no she didn't. Oops. I'm sure if Goku had found out sooner he would have done his best to meet his son sooner than later.

If Goten had grown up without Goku that is okay! Why? Because Gohan learned everything he did when he was with his dad, he also learned from Piccolo and Krillin.

It takes a village to raise a child, Gohan would have been a great father figure for Goten.

Oh gosh, I should stop, I can keep going... but at this point I don't know if anyone would actually read this since its so long.

Long story short - Goku is not a bad dad, never was never will be. If he has shown acts of selfishness such as wanting to train, train, train... then people tend to think they haven't committed selfish acts, lol. Goku may be a fictional character but he has flaws just like we do. We all make mistakes, maybe Goku has made a few but overall he does what he thinks is best for his family and himself.

Maybe I’ll make a second post lol, who knows.

Thank you for coming to my Ted-Talk.

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bcimbatmandude · 2 years

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Reason #1497 as to why I love Goku. 💕

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bcimbatmandude · 4 years

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More Human Than Meets the Eye-A Study in Pink, part 4-chapter 5

Hey guys! Thanks so much for the follows and love. Here’s the next chapter! I’m gonna try to make a masterlist later, but I have no idea how to do it. sooooo we’ll see what happens.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Previously: "Yeah, but if you were really, really clever.." his voice trailed away. "Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers; she was clever. She's trying to tell us something."

Just then, Mrs. Hudson walked into the room. "Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock."

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Adaline frowned at Mrs. Hudson's words. That was odd…no one had called for a taxi that she knew of. "I didn't order a taxi," Sherlock confirmed her thoughts. "Go away." Adaline glared at her father for his tone of voice. The woman was merely trying to help.

"Oh dear. They're making such a terrible mess," the landlady fretted. "What are they looking for?" "It's a drugs bust, Mrs. Hudson," John supplied patiently. Adaline was a bit surprised when a very worried look came over the older woman's face. "But they're just for my hip!" she cried, gesturing to the mentioned body part. "They're herbal soothers!"

The blonde haired child's face now adopted a puzzled look, wondering why Mrs. Hudson would be so concerned about her medicine. She looked over at John in question, but the doctor was pointedly looking away from her.

"Shut up!" her father yelled suddenly. "Everybody, shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, I need you, especially, to face the other way. You're putting me off." "What?" Anderson cried, obviously affronted. "My face is?!"

Adaline could not for the life of her stop the giggles that erupted when she glanced at Anderson's face, and in all honesty, she wouldn't have stopped them even if she'd had the ability to. She did have the decency to cover her mouth though, not that it did much good.

Anderson heard the freak's daughter start to laugh and scowled. She was laughing at him. Embarrassment filled the man and he threw the girl a very dark look.

Adaline had a feeling that if looks could kill, she would either not be breathing any longer, or would've at least found herself extremely maimed judging by the level of scowl she was receiving from the officer at the moment. It was quite obvious just how much the man despised her. Her glee at Anderson's plight only grew when John, having looked over in time to catch the exchange between the two, casually stepped into Anderson's line of vision, ceasing his ability to glare at the Holmes girl any longer. John lifted an eyebrow, silently warning him. Anderson seemed to understand what wasn't being said, wisely looking away.

"Anderson!" the officer jumped when his boss addressed him in a gruff voice. "Turn your back," the Inspector ordered. Anderson opened his mouth to protest, but Lestrade, having had enough, snapped. "Your back! Now, please!" "Oh for God's sake!" he cried, but did as his boss instructed.

"Come on," Sherlock murmured to himself. "Think, quickly!" "What about your taxi?" Mrs. Hudson said worriedly. "MRS. HUDSON!" Sherlock shouted, entirely fed up with the interruptions, making Adaline and the older woman both jump. Mrs. Hudson gasped and hurried downstairs.

Sherlock had been furiously pacing back and forth when suddenly he stopped, whipping around to stare at his daughter in excitement. He ignored the glare she was throwing him for his treatment towards their land lady, telling himself he would apologize to the woman later.

"Oh," he began, eyes lighting up. "She was clever, clever, Adaline. Yes!" He turned and faced the entire room. "She's much cleverer than you lot and she's dead. Do you see, do you get it? She didn't lose her phone. She never lost it. She planted it on him." He began to pace yet again. "When she got out of the car, she knew she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer."

"But how?" Lestrade threw in. "What…?" Sherlock asked him, truly stumped at Lestrade's ignorance. "What do you mean, how?"

Lestrade hesitated for a second and then shrugged helplessly. "Rachel!" Sherlock provided, looking around the room triumphantly. He visibly deflated when he was only met with blank stares. "Don't you see? Rachel!" he repeated, as if that would help them suddenly understand everything.

Nothing.

"Oh, look at you lot," he sneered, utterly disgusted at the lack of intelligence before him. "You're all so vacant. Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing."

"Dad."

Sherlock heard his daughter call to him, her voice low and soothing. Calm.

The father immediately stopped and forced himself to take a deep breath inward. John took note of the fact that when Sherlock next spoke, the venom in his voice was no longer present. The doctor looked over at the little girl, intrigued at the power she apparently had over the headstrong man.

"John, on the luggage, there's a label. Email address."

The shorter man didn't bother asking questions and walked over to the luggage, locating the label and reading out the address. "It's uh…jennie dot pink at mephone dot org dot uk." Adaline watched her father stride over and sit down in front of the computer screen. "Rachel is not a name," he said simply, typing in the website. "I've been too slow," he scolded himself. "She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone, so it's a smart phone. It's email enabled."

John watched as Sherlock pulled up the Mephone's website. "So there was a website for her account," the detective continued. "The username is her email address…" Adaline thought hard, mentally sifting through all of the information they had gathered, and adding up the clues. Rachel isn't a name….

Finally, it clicked.

"Rachel is her password," she gasped out. Now that she had figured it out, she was able to view the entirety of the case, and felt foolish upon realizing how obvious it all was. She was disappointed at her slowness.

Her father however, held completely different feelings towards his daughter. "Oh how the mighty have fallen." Lestrade looked to him questioningly. "What kind of day must it be for you all when a child is able to grasp clues before the majority of the Scotland Yard?"

"So what?" A voice dared to say. Anderson. Of course. Adaline rolled her eyes. "We can read her emails." "Anderson please cease talking. You wound the IQ of the entire street." Sherlock didn't waste time even looking at the tiny minded officer. "We can do much more than read her emails. It's a smart phone. It's got GPS which means if you lose it, you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her."

Mrs. Hudson hesitantly peeked her upper half back in through the doorway. "Sherlock dear. This taxi driver…" Sherlock got up from the computer chair and walked over to the woman. "Mrs. Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?" Mrs. Hudson puffed angrily and left, heading back to her own flat.

Adaline stared after her worriedly, hoping very much that she wasn't too upset at her father's obstinate rudeness. She threw a sharp glare in his direction and got up from her armchair, heading for the doorway. "I'll see what he wants," she informed them. Her father glanced over and nodded at her absently.

The young girl threw on her trainers and headed downstairs. She absently chewed at her lip, her mind whirling. Adaline opened the door, sending a gust of cool London air into the warm flat, and peered outside. The curly haired girl confirmed that there was indeed a taxi sitting in front of the flat for them. An older man was leaning against the vehicle waiting patiently. He was wearing glasses, his hair was grey and he was sporting a driver's cap.

"Hello," Adaline greeted politely. Her mind began shooting out warning signals. Something about this situation didn't feel quite right..

"Hello," he welcomed back just as nicely, nodding to her. She cautiously stepped outside, closing the front door quietly behind her. "I think there's been a mistake," she informed the man, secretly studying him. She gathered information about him very quickly, beginning her deductions just as her father had taught her.

-Shaving cream left forgotten behind left ear. Most likely lives alone.

"We didn't call for a taxi," she conveyed sweetly.

-Clothes are clean but have several holes throughout the fabric; at least three years old. Not planning for the future

"Oh no," he agreed, shaking his head. "You didn't Miss Holmes." He smiled at her then. "But I believe your father did."

Alarmed, Adaline took a half step back before catching herself. She mentally shook herself and thought about what her father would do. She stepped closer to the man. "Who are you?" she asked, cutting straight to the chase. It was obvious the man had information they did not. The man smiled wider at the little girl's spunk, properly amused by the child.

"I'm just a taxi driver little miss," he said to her innocently. "No one important." "How do you know my dad?" she demanded. "You shouldn't worry about that," he tutted to her. He gestured to the cab. "How bout you get in the cab, and me, you, and your dad can take a nice little cab drive." "I think I might pass," Adaline said slowly, her mind practically screaming alarms at her now.

She began backing up towards the steps, her heart beating wildly. "Now calm down little miss," the cabbie soothed, taking a step in her direction. "I don't wanna hurt you and your dad. I'm just gonna talk to you." The man took another step towards her, and Adaline couldn't help herself.

She turned around quick as she could, shooting for the flat. Right before she made it to the door, she was grabbed from behind. The girl made to scream and the man threw a hand over her mouth. Adaline kicked and struggled against his arms to no avail. He slowly moved the two of them closer to his vehicle and Adaline, growing more desperate, bit the man's hand as hard as she could.

"Ah!" he gasped, his grip on her body lessening just a tiny bit. Adaline jumped on the opportunity and pushed the man away from her as hard as she could, running up the three steps that would bring her to safety. She made it to the top stop, her fingertips touching the door handle, when she was suddenly jerked off of her feet. She fell the ground face first, gasping as her forehead connected with the hard ground. The seven year old whimpered at the pain now flooding through her, tears coming to her eyes.

The man took advantage of her stillness and quite literally, began dragging her closer to him, causing her to scrape her hands and holes to form in the knees of her pajama bottoms as she weakly attempted to fight back. Her pitiful tugs were ignored though as the man finally was able to open the cab door, tossing the child roughly inside the backseat.

Adaline scampered as far away from the man as she could, cowering into the left corner of the backseat. Every ounce of the courage she felt earlier was gone, drained dry by the abuse she was receiving. The man panted and shook his hand, and she noticed with a bit of satisfaction that it was bleeding from where she'd bitten into it. "Sorry about your head, love," he apologized with false sympathy. "Would've been a bit gentler if you'd cooperated." Adaline bit her tongue and hugged herself tightly, wishing very much her father was with her.

The man smiled at her creepily one final time, and slammed the door.

Meanwhile, back inside the flat, Sherlock was staring disbelievingly at the computer screen. "How can the phone be here?" he inquired, voice rising. "How?"

"Maybe it was in the case and when you brought it back it fell out somehow," Lestrade offered. Sherlock scoffed. "What, and I didn't notice? Me? I didn't notice?" "Anyway," John turned to Lestrade. "We texted him and he called back." Lestrade began talking to his crew and Sherlock easily tuned them out, his mind going back to the conversation he'd had with John earlier.

Who do we trust, even if we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of the crowd?

Suddenly, Sherlock's phone dinged from inside of his coat. Sherlock removed his phone from his pocket, reading the text.

COME WITH ME.

Feeling eyes on him, Sherlock looked to his left towards the door way of the flat, only to see a strange man slowly making his way down the stairs to the front door.

"Sherlock, you okay?" he heard John ask. Absently he answered. "What? Yeah, yeah, I..I'm fine." "So how can the phone be here?"

"Dunno," Sherlock quietly answered, still watching the taxi driver. John walked over to his coat where his own phone was sitting inside his jacket pocket. "I'll try it again," he told the dark haired man.

"Good idea." Sherlock made his way to the door. "Where are you going?" John called to him, puzzled as to why he was leaving at such a crucial time. "Fresh air. Just popping outside for a moment. Won't be long."

"You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Sherlock ended, and hurried down the stairs after the man.

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aaand that’s it. Thanks for reading! next chappie will be out soon. hopefully.

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bcimbatmandude · 4 years

Text

More Human Than Meets the Eye-A Study in Pink, part 3-chapter 4

Freakin tumblr deleted my shit and I had to start this chapter all over!!!! Booooooooooooo

Yall be glad I love yall!! Enjoy the next chapterrrrrr

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Previously: Without missing a beat, Sherlock stated, quite nonchalantly, "And I said 'dangerous,' and here you are." Sherlock turned and walked out the door. John sat there thoughtfully for several seconds, then angrily grabbed his cane, following his new flatmate out the door.

"Damn it!"

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knock knock knock

Adaline woke up as soon as she heard what sounded like someone knocking on the front door. She scrunched her eyes tightly together, cursing being a light sleeper, and tried desperately to drift back off into dreamland. When the noise didn't occur again after about a minute, she rolled over, snuggling deeper into her covers, sighing in contentment when she finally found another comfy spot.

knock knock knock

Eyelids flew open.

Groaning and grumbling, the seven year old quite literally rolled herself out of her father's bed, hitting the floor with a dull thump. Eyes still halfway closed, she picked herself off the floor and began walking towards the front door. Still suffering from sleep disorientation, as she walked out of the bedroom, she didn't turn her body quite far enough to make it completely out the door, and she whined when she felt her left little toe hit the corner of the bedroom door frame.

Eyes watering, toe throbbing, she slowly hopped her way into the living room.The girl walked into the living room, flipping on one of the lamps that her father or Mr. John must've turned off when they left. She had almost made it to the front door when suddenly, it was slammed wide open.

Frozen in shock, she listened as Mrs. Hudson made a sharp cry of indignation."You can't go in there you brutes!" she cried fiercely. Adaline watched, eyes wide, as Inspector Lestrade strode into her and her father's living space, followed by several other police officers. "Just search everywhere," Lestrade instructed his crew. "There's no telling where anything might be."

"Uncle Greg?"Lestrade looked over when he heard what had to be his adopted niece's voice, softly call out to him. "Ada?" he frowned, looking the girl over. She was still in her night clothes, which consisted of an adorable set of purple pajamas with kittens all over them. Her curly blonde locks were in a disarrayed mess on her head, and she rubbed her eyes several times. It became very obvious to the detective then that she had just woken up, and he felt a stab of dismay and guilt run through him when he realized that he and his team had probably just frightened the little girl, bursting into the flat like they had. "Where's your father?" he questioned, looking around the flat.

"He's not here! I was watching her while he and John went out." Mrs. Hudson answered, standing at the door. She constantly shook her head and tutted in disapproval at the madness in front of her. "And he would not appreciate you breaking into his flat like this, especially while his daughter was here. Alone," she ended, huffing indignantly.

Lestrade paused at her ending statement, actually beginning to look a bit nervous."What's going on?" Adaline asked. She watched as several officers went into the kitchen and starting opening and closing the drawers.

"It's a…" Lestrade began, not knowing quite what to tell the child.

Adaline simply raised an eyebrow at her 'uncle,' and the Inspector, remembering who's child he was talking to, decided to finish his statement.

"….drugs bust."

"Be a good baby freak," Adaline heard a voice say to her left. "..and keep out of the way," Anderson taunted at her. She had to swerve sharply to the right to avoid being sideswiped by the awful man, who was making it his new goal in life to dump out as many drawers as possible. "We don't want the little girl contaminating any evidence."

"Anderson!" Lestrade barked, not pleased with the words being spoken, or the tone of voice. He was still "Uncle Greg" and no matter whose daughter she was, she was still only a little girl. He wouldn't tolerate a grown man name calling a child. Besides, if Sherlock had heard him…

Right on cue, a loud bang was heard as the front door slammed shut. Adaline heard Mrs. Hudson ask Sherlock what he had done, Sherlock responding in a confused manner. The blonde haired girl heard hurried footsteps climbing up the stairs, and then her father was striding through the door, army doctor close behind. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, eyes searching the room almost frantically.

"I'm here," Adaline called out to him. Sherlock's eyes snapped to hers. The man took three long strides, and then he was standing in front of his daughter. He kneeled down to her level, something he did a lot, and grasped her arms. "Are you alright?" he asked, looking into her eyes and studying her facial expressions. He would know instantly if she were lying.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, hugging him back when he pulled her into him. She pulled away and crossed her arms grumpily. "They woke me up though."

Sherlock smiled for half a second, knowing that she was in fact properly upset at being woken up. His daughter enjoyed her sleep as much as she enjoyed her ice cream. The smile was gone off of his face though when she hugged him a second time, grasping on to him a little too tightly. They had scared her. His eyes hardened just slightly, and he called out calmly to his flat mate."John."

John had been watching as his new living space got violated, scowling when one of the officers dumped out another kitchen drawer. What the hell was happening? He heard a familiar voice call his name, and looked to his right. Sherlock was hugging Adaline who looked to be grasping on to her father's shoulders very tightly. Her green eyes were wide and clearly unsettled at the current events. Quickly realizing what was being requested of him, he went over to the pair, standing behind Adaline and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Adaline unconsciously leaned back into John, and Sherlock stood up, satisfied that his daughter was now taken care of. He turned away from John and Adaline, looking towards Lestrade and his crew. "I don't like repeating myself," he addressed them all, baritone voice ringing throughout the room. "What is happening here?"

"Don't worry, Sherlock," Lestrade spoke. "We didn't interrogate Ada. We knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid." "You're correct, Inspector," Sherlock agreed. "You're not stupid."

Lestrade was surprised for a moment at his words, however he scowled when Sherlock continued."You've passed far beyond stupid. You're a complete imbecile if you think you and your lot can break into my flat like this." "You can't withhold evidence," Lestrade argued. "And we didn't break in." "Oh?" Sherlock countered, voice hard. "So you and your men didn't burst into my living room unannounced?"

"I don't believe my daughter knew you were coming over judging by the fear in her eyes."Lestrade had the smarts to look guilty at that last statement. "We didn't know she'd be here alone," he said, glancing over at Adaline apologetically. "What do you call this then?" Sherlock continued.

"It's a drugs bust."

John, who had decided to be silent up to this point and focus on comforting Adaline, now spoke up. "Seriously?" he snorted. "This guy, a junkie? Have you met him?""John," Sherlock said quietly, trying to stop the man. Adaline started fidgeting within John's arms. "I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day," he continued unknowingly, "and you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational."

"Mr. John," Adaline said pleadingly.

John looked down, frowning at her tone of voice. He studied the uncomfortable child, and then his eyes slowly traveled to his flat mate. The two held gazes for a long moment as a brief silence fell over the flat.Adaline began fidgeting even more, not being able to handle the tension that had built up in the room. She was somewhat thankful when John's quiet, unbelieving voice finally broke through the silence."No."

"What?" Sherlock questioned nervously."You?" John said, completely surprised. "Shut up!" Sherlock countered angrily, turning back to Lestrade. "I'm not your sniffer dog."

"No," Lestrade shook his head. "Anderson's my sniffer dog."

"What? An…" Sherlock started.

Lestrade nodded towards the kitchen where about four officers were scouring around. Anderson turned around at the mention of his name. He waved sarcastically at Sherlock.Adaline watched the exchange wearily. She felt eyes on her then, and looked up to find her father looking at her closely. Too closely. He was searching for something….

She quickly looked down when his gaze became too much. Sherlock, having received his answer, let out a growl. "Anderson," he snarled, and John noted to himself that he spoke the man's name like it was a curse. "What are you doing here on a drugs bust?"

"Oh I volunteered," Anderson sneered, venom dripping. Adaline glared fiercely at the man, wishing she was tall enough to punch him in the face. "They all did," Lestrade threw in. "They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen." Adaline scoffed at that and Sherlock bit his lip hard enough to taste blood.

Donovan came into the room then. She was holding a glass jar with white, round objects swimming inside. "Are these human eyes?" she cried, holding the jar up. "Put those back!" Sherlock demanded. "They were in the microwave!" the woman said, disgusted. "It's for an experiment you twit!" Adaline shouted, very upset now at the way they were treating and regarding her father.

John held her tighter when he heard the distress in her voice, shushing her softly. Sherlock threw her a glance telling her to calm down and she huffed, her body going lax against John's.When Sherlock was sure that his daughter wasn't going to spew out any words or phrases that a little girl certainly shouldn't be saying, he looked to Lestrade and spat out, "This is childish!"

"Well, I'm dealing with a child," the Inspector retorted. "Sherlock this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?" The detective stopped where he had been wearing the floor away with his angry pacing and glared at the grey haired man in front of him. "Oh, what, so..so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?"

"It stops being pretend if we find anything," Lestrade stated quietly.Adaline was watching the interaction very cautiously, her teeth continuing to bite away at her lower lip. "I am clean!" Sherlock loudly proclaimed. "Is your flat? All of it?"

"I don't even smoke." Sherlock unbuttoned the cuff of his left shirt, rolling up his sleeve to show off the nicotine patch on his lower arm."Neither do I." Lestrade rolls up the right sleeve of his own jacket, showing a similar patch to the curly haired man. Sherlock rolled his eyes, turning away, and both men proceeded to fix their clothing. "So let's work together," Lestrade offered. "We found Rachel."

"Who is she?"

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter."

Adaline shifted away from John a little, and he looked at her questioningly. She smiled at him reassuringly and shuffled over to her father's chair. The child snuggled down into the seat, receiving a small amount of comfort from the familiar smell. "You need to bring Rachel in," her father proclaimed. "You need to question her. I want to question her."

"She's dead," Lestrade informed.

"Excellent!"

John and the others looked over at the man, shocked. Adaline just sighed, exasperated, very accustomed to her father's ways. "How, when, and why?" he continued, unperturbed. "There has to be some sort of connection."

"Well, I doubt it," Greg said, "since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago." John grimaced at this information and turned away. When Sherlock heard the words however, he was confused."No, that's…that's not right. How…why would she do that. Why?"

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments?" Anderson questioned, upper lip going up. "Yup, sociopath; I'm seeing it now." Without even looking towards the dim witted man, Sherlock threw a sharp glance to his daughter, who had at this point, had enough of Anderson's comments. When she met her father's gaze, which basically said, If you get up you'll regret it, she huffed loudly and slammed back into the seat.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at his daughter's antics, and turned back towards the crew. "She didn't think about her daughter," a voice said, and Sherlock swung back around to look towards Adaline again. Her eyes were wide and caught off guard to see everyone suddenly looking at her, and she looked as though she had even surprised herself by speaking up.

Adaline blushed a bright red at all of the eyes that swiveled towards her, and she was seconds away from burying her head in a hole when she spotted her father giving her an encouraging nod. She gulped and forced herself to straighten, trying with all her might to look much more confident than she felt. When she spoke, she was proud to say that her voice didn't waver...that much. "She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying and probably didn't have a lot of strength left. That takes a lot of effort to do something like that. And it would've hurt."

Sherlock wasn't ashamed at all to say that when his daughter finished her explanation, a giant, proud smile stretched across his face. He couldn't have stopped it if he tried. Adaline immediately ducked her head when she was finished speaking, as though all of the courage had suddenly drained out of her.

"The victims all took the poison themselves," John spoke up, feeling sorry for the girl. "You said he makes them take it. Well maybe he…I don't know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow."

Sherlock turned to look at him, genuinely puzzled. "Yeah, but that was ages ago? Why would she still be upset?" John stared at Sherlock for what seemed like the fifteenth time that day in utter disbelief. The detective realized that the whole flat had gone silent, and looked back awkwardly at John. "Not good?"

John glanced around at the others, his gaze stopping on Adaline who was shaking her head at her father hopelessly. "Bit not good, yeah," he confirmed.

Sherlock quickly shook off the incident and stepped closer to John, looking at him intently. "But if you were dying, if you'd been murdered, in you very last seconds, what would you say?"

"Please God, let me live."

Adaline sucked in a sharp breath when John said this, her eyes becoming very sad for the kind man she was growing to like very much. It was obvious from his tone and the way his body slumped a bit that he'd had firsthand experience with that situation. Sherlock, thankfully, seemed to realize that he needn't continue on with that specific line of questioning, and hurriedly continued."Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever…" his voice trailed away.

"Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers; she was clever. She's trying to tell us something."

Just then, Mrs. Hudson walked into the room. "Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock."

aaaaaand that’s the chapter. written twice by the way, if you didn’t hear that already at the top. I hope you enjoyed! till next time!

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bcimbatmandude · 4 years

Text

More Human Than Meets the Eye- A Study in Pink-part 2-chapter 3

Here’s part 2, chapter 3 guys! Thanks for the likes.

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Adaline hummed to herself as she finished the last two bites of her garlic toast. Mrs. Hudson had taken pity on the young girl being left behind by her father, so she'd fixed up her favorite meal for her, other than ice cream of course. Spaghetti and meatballs.

Mrs. Hudson walked into her living room and chuckled warmly as she watched the young girl eat her dinner quite contentedly. Unlike her father, Adaline quite enjoyed eating. She did forget to do so sometimes when she got too caught up in something, but she was always more than willing to accept an offer for a meal or a snack. "Adaline dear," she began. "Don't forget to wash up when you're finished with your dinner."

Adaline looked up and smiled at her landlady. "Ok, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you again for dinner." Mrs. Hudson laughed and waved her off. "Oh it's not a bother sweetheart. Thank you for keeping me company!" Mrs. Hudson did not of course have children of her own, which was quite sad for the simple fact that the kind older woman had a sweet persona that was perfect for being a mother or grandmother. When Sherlock and Adaline first showed up at Baker Street, it wasn't very hard for Mrs. Hudson to fall in love with the child. She very quickly 'adopted' her as her grandchild, and Adaline was more than happy to act the part.

Adaline heard the front door swing open, and footsteps that could only belong to her father echoed through the flat. She looked at the time in confusion. It was still rather early, and hadn't her father told her he'd be out late? She shot up and shouted a goodbye to Mrs. Hudson, who peaked her head around the kitchen wall. "See you later dear!"

Adaline jogged up the stairs into the flat. She stepped into the living room and watched as her father went over to the kitchen area, placing a very bright pink suitcase into a chair. "You're back early, aren't you?" she asked him. Her curiosity took hold of her and she walked to the pink suitcase, examining it. Sherlock glanced at his daughter, noting that she was already dressed in her night clothes. "It didn't take as long as I thought it would," he answered her.

She looked around then, noticing that something, or rather someone, was missing. "Dad, where's Mr. John?" She became suspicious when he opted not to answer her question, and after three seconds when he still acted as though he hadn't heard her, she scolded him, "Dad…"

Sherlock looked at his daughter then and tried very hard not to laugh when she put her hands on her hips and began tapping her foot in an impatient manner. She was trying to be serious and would get upset if he laughed at her efforts. "I may or may not have left him…." he began.

"Dad!" she cried, her mouth falling open.

"Mr. John has a limp! You can't abandon a man with a limp!"

"Adaline," he sighed. "He's a grown man. He knows how to call for a taxi."

"It's still very rude to do something like that! Mr. John is a nice man. We don't do rude things to nice people dad," she scolded. He looked at her for several seconds, taking note of her pleading expression. He sighed, defeated. He supposed he wasn't setting a very good example for his daughter.

"Very well then." Sherlock took off his scarf and coat. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone and typed a quick text. He hit the send button and looked at his daughter, who was now wearing a smile on her face. "What did you say?" she asked, already having known what he was doing. "To come at once if convenient."

"What if it's not convenient?" she pointed out innocently. He paused and then scowled, sending another text out.

If inconvenient come anyway. SH

Adaline nodded, seemingly satisfied. She went over to her father's chair and plopped down, watching as he went into the kitchen. She rolled her eyes when she realized what he was doing. "How many are you going to use this time?"

"Three," he answered shortly. Sherlock pulled a box of nicotine patches out of one of the kitchen drawers. He took out the necessary patches and walked over into the living room. Rolling up his sleeves, he applied the patches on his arm and laid down on the sofa in his favorite praying position.

"Mrs. Hudson made me spaghetti," the child started, folding her feet up under her. Sherlock merely hummed and pressed on his patches, trying to release the substance more quickly. "She fixed that really tasty garlic bread I like."

Sherlock closed his eyes and listened to his daughter ramble on. He could easily block her voice out if he needed to, but he found he actually enjoyed listening to her speak about her daily activities. His eyes closed for a bit, and then snapped back open, staring at the ceiling. Adaline heard the door open and looked over to see John come through. She smiled at him in greeting and he smiled back for a second before looking over at her father.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Nicotine patch. Helps me think." Sherlock showed John his patches and commented, "Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work." He clicked the 'k' on the end of his last word, and John looked at him incredulously. "Is that three patches?"

"It's a three patch problem," he explained simply. John looked at Adaline. "Does he do this a lot?" She simply shrugged and said, "He says breathing is boring." John rolled his eyes. "Well?" he prompted.

Sherlock opened his eyes and glanced at him in question. "You asked me to come," he continued, " I'm assuming it's important." "Oh yes, of course. Can I borrow your phone?"

"My phone.." John repeated slowly. "I don't want to use mine," Sherlock explained. "There's always a chance my number will be recognized."

"Does Mrs. Hudson not have a phone?" John questioned, voice rising a bit. "Mrs. Hudson is downstairs. I don't want to walk all the way down there just to use her phone.." he explained in a "duh" voice.

"I was on the other side of London," John exclaimed angrily.

"There was no hurry," Sherlock said innocently. John sighed angrily and looked up to the ceiling in exasperation. Adaline giggled at their antics from her father's chair. John dug around in his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Here."

Sherlock merely held his hand out towards John, palm up. John glowered at him and then stepped forward, slapping the phone into the detective's hand. John turned and walked towards Adaline before facing Sherlock again. "So what's this about the case?"

"Her case." Sherlock corrected softly.

"Her case?"

"Her suitcase, yes, obviously." Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at John. "The murderer took her suitcase. First big mistake."

"Okay, he took her case. So?" John asked.

"It's no use, there's no other way. We'll have to risk it," Sherlock quietly. His voice rose and he said, "On my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text."

"Wait a minute," John started, his temper building again. "You brought me here…to send a text?"

"Text, yes. The number on my desk."

John snatched his phone from Sherlock and ignoring his instructions, went and looked out the window. Adaline frowned, sensing John's unhappiness. "Dad," she started. "You're being very rude."

"It's alright Adaline," John soothed. "I met a friend of yours," he stated in Sherlock's direction. "A friend?" Sherlock said, wearing an expression of mild confusion. "Dad doesn't have friends Mr. John," Adaline informed him, shaking her head.

"An enemy then." Sherlock relaxed and nodded, but Adaline frowned at John. "Which one?" John looked down at her when she asked this question. She sounded quite serious. "Your arch-enemy according to him. Do people even have arch-enemies? Is that a thing?"

Sherlock looked at John, narrowing his eyes at him suspiciously. "Did he offer you money?"

"Yes."

"Did you take it?" he questioned, looking very closely at the shorter man.

"No."

"Pity. We could have split the fee. Think it through next time." Adaline nodded and John realized that they knew something he didn't. "Who is he?"

"The most dangerous man you've ever met, and not my problem right now. On my desk, the number."

John shot Sherlock a dark look, but dutifully moved towards the desk. He picked up a piece of paper taken from a luggage label. "Jennifer Wilson. That was…hang on. Wasn't that the dead woman?" "Yes," Sherlock confirmed. "Just enter the number." John shook his head but began to type the number into the phone.

"Are you doing it?"

"Yes." "Have you done it?"

"Ye…hang on!" Adaline looked at Sherlock disapprovingly. "Dad don't rush him." "Sorry dear," he replied absently. "Type these words exactly. 'What happened to Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out.'"

John started to type, but stopped when he heard what Sherlock was saying. He looked at him, briefly, mildly concerned.

Sherlock continued his narration. " 'Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Please come.'"

"You blacked out?" John asked, frowning at his new flat mate. "What happened?" Adaline questioned her father, her voice rising with her worry. Sherlock sat up and looked at the both of them. "Nothing happened Adaline. I did not black out." Sherlock stood up, walking over the coffee table to get to the kitchen. "Type and send it. Quickly." Sherlock went into the kitchen, grabbing the pink suitcase from the chair. He walked over to the dining table, lifting a dining chair and flipping it around, setting it down in front of the two armchairs near the fireplace. He put the suitcase into the dining chair.

Turning around, he shooed his daughter out of his chair with a flourish of his hands. She scowled, and instead of going over to the couch, decided to sit on the floor next to him and his chair. "Have you sent it?" Sherlock inquired.

"What's the address?" "Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Do hurry up!" John finally finished the message. He looked up only to see Sherlock unzipping the case and flipping open the lid, revealing the contents.

Adaline looks inside, curious. She saw a few things of clothing and underwear, all an alarming shade of pink..big surpise, there…a washbag, and a paperback novel that was definitely not for young children. She picked it up to examine it, but before she could get a good look at it Sherlock had snatched it out of her hands. "I don't think so," he muttered, setting it to the side. She huffed.

"That's….that's the pink lady's case. That's Jennifer Wilson's case." Adaline looked up at John then, her eyebrows creased. Did he just now figure that out? Sherlock, continuing to study the case, only commented, "Yes, clearly."

John continued to stare, and Sherlock, becoming aware of the silence, looked up and studied him for a second. He rolled his eyes in irritation. "Oh, perhaps I should mention. I didn't kill her."

"I never said you did."

"Why not? Given the text I just had you send and the fact that I have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption." "Do people usually assume you're the murderer?" John asked worriedly. Adaline nodded, and her father smirked. "Now and then, yes." Sherlock leaned back into his chair, lifting his feet up and under him. He clasped his hands under his chin.

"Okay." John limped over across the room and dropped heavily into the chair on the other side of the fireplace. "How did you get this?" he demanded. "By looking." "Where?"

Adaline listened to her father explain how he found the pink suitcase. She realized that her bottom was beginning to hurt because of the hardwood flooring, so she stood up, and plopped right into her father's lap. He grunted a little, glaring at her, as if to say, you did that on purpose. She merely smirked and cuddled back into his chest. "Took me less than an hour to find the right skip," Sherlock finished. He mindlessly began running his fingers through his daughter's hair, and John took a second to admire the sweet moment. "You got all that because you realized the case would be pink?" he asked, though he figured he shouldn't be too surprised by now.

"Well, it had to be pink, obviously," Sherlock stated. "Why didn't I think of that?" John muttered to himself. "Because you're an idiot," Sherlock stated plainly.

John looked across to him, feeling very wounded. Adaline sighed in dismay at her father's lack of tact, even as she snuggled deeper into his chest. It was definitely past her bed time…

Sherlock waved off John's shock with a placatory movement of his hand. "No, no, no, don't look like that. Practically everyone is."

"Everyone huh?" John repeated, nodding his head towards the little girl half asleep on her father's chest. Sherlock sniffed and hugged his daughter briefly. "Almost everyone." John rolled his eyes.

"Now, look. Do you see what's missing?"

"From the case? How could I?" John cried.

"Her phone," a small, very sleepy voice said suddenly. Both men looked down towards the girl. Sherlock smiled and hugged his daughter close to him. "Good job, darling," he whispered to her. "Her phone," he confirmed, a little louder so John could hear. "Where's her phone? There was no phone on the body, there's no phone in the case. We know she had one. That's her number there—you just texted it."

John shrugged. "Maybe she left it at home." Sherlock readjusted his daughter in his lap, shushing her when she murmured in disapproval. "She has a string of lovers and she's careful about it. She never leaves her phone at home." John looked at Sherlock, looked to the phone, and then back to Sherlock again. Realization came over his face. "Why did I just send that text?"

"The question, John, is where's her phone now?"

"She could have lost it," John suggested.

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, or…?" "The murderer," John started slowly, "you think the murderer has her phone?" "Maybe she left it when she left her case," Sherlock provided. "Maybe he took it from her for some reason. Either way, the balance of probability is the murderer has her phone."

John's heart beat sped up, and he could feel himself beginning to feel..panic? Yes, that had to be panic. "Sorry, what are we doing? Did I just text a murderer?!" His voice rose quite a bit for his last sentence, and Sherlock quickly reprimanded him. "Shh!" He glanced pointedly down at the child in his arms. "If she wakes up it'll be hell trying to get her to go back to sleep."

John sent him an apologetic glance, and lowered his voice. "What good will texting him do?" As if on cue, his phone begins to ring.

Withheld

Calling

He looked across to Sherlock as the phone continued to ring. "A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If someone had just found that phone, they'd ignore a text like that. But the murderer…" He trailed off dramatically until the phone stopped ringing.

"….would panic." Sherlock stood then, very carefully mind you, easily lifting his daughter off of his lap into his arms. He cuddled her close to his chest and headed to his bedroom. He passed John and then paused, looking back towards the man. "Do you mind?" he gestured. John instantly nodded, knowing what he meant. He pushed himself out of the chair and grabbed his cane. The two men walked towards the bedroom, John opening the bedroom door for the detective. Sherlock gave him a whispered thank you and walked over to the bed. He pulled back the covers and carefully laid his daughter down in the middle of the bed, just how she liked it. He pulled the covers around her tightly, tucking her in. John watched as Sherlock stepped back from the bed, looking around his room for a second.

He walked over to the corner of the room where a chair set, and picked something up out of the seat. When he turned around, John smiled softly at the stuffed kitten toy he held in his arms. Walking back over to the bed, he tucked the cat in close to his daughter. The girl smiled in her sleep and hugged it to her tightly. Sherlock smoothed the hair away from her face, kissed her forehead, and whispered a loving goodnight to her.

He walked out of the bedroom and grabbed the door, pulling it shut just enough to where the bedroom stayed dark, but making sure that a tiny amount of the hallway light could still be seen. He turned to face John then, and scowled when he saw the look on his face. "Not one word," he warned, eyes narrowing.

John snickered. "I wasn't going to say anything." Sherlock hummed disbelievingly. The two of them quietly walked back to the living room, Sherlock walking towards his jacket. "Have you talked to the police about all this?" John asked, watching him. "Four people are dead. There isn't time to talk to the police." "So why are you talking to me?" Sherlock reached behind the door, grabbing his greatcoat from its hook. He looked towards the mantelpiece then, noticing something missing.

"Mrs. Hudson took my skull." John huffed, "So I'm basically filling in for your skull?"

"Relax, you're doing fine," Sherlock praised, putting on his coat. John didn't move from his position. Sherlock, stopping his movements as well, lifted an eyebrow towards him. "Well?"

"Well what?" "Well, you could just sit there and watch telly," Sherlock began. "What, you want me to come with you?" John asked incredulous. "I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk out loud. Adaline is asleep and the skull attracts attention, so…." John smiled then.

"Problem?" Sherlock questioned. "Yeah, Sergeant Donovan." Sherlock looked away in exasperation. "What about her?"

"She said you get off on this. You enjoy it."

Without missing a beat, Sherlock stated, quite nonchalantly, "And I said 'dangerous,' and here you are." Sherlock turned and walked out the door.

John sat there thoughtfully for several seconds, then angrily grabbed his cane, following his new flat mate out the door.

"Damn it!"

Thanks for reading!

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bcimbatmandude · 4 years

Text

More Human Than Meets the Eye-part 2

Here’s part 2 of the first episode guys! Thanks for reading!

Previously: "I'll be back very soon," he promised quietly. Adaline said nothing, only gazing at her father very seriously for several seconds. She bit her lip and creased her eyebrows and John had to fight back a smile at the adorableness. He didn't dare move for fear of interrupting the father-daughter moment.

She nodded then, and Sherlock moved towards her, grabbing her small body in a tight hug before kissing the side of her head. He stood to his full height once again, and bounded outside.

"The game is on!"

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock called for a taxi and soon the two of them were headed for Brixton. They sat in silence for a while. Sherlock fidgeted on his Blackberry phone while John stole nervous glances between him and the outside scenery. Finally, Sherlock lowered his phone."You have questions," he stated.

John noticed that he didn't pose it as a question. "Yeah, where are we going?" he started."Crime scene. Next?"

"You have a daughter."

Sherlock paused; he wasn't expecting that to be the next question. "…yes," he drew the word out a bit. "I apologize for not telling you about her when we first met. I realize that living with a child isn't exactly ideal for some people but…"

"No, no it's alright," John interrupted, shaking his head. "I don't really mind. She's adorable," he chuckled. "Isn't she?" Sherlock agreed, smirking. "I'm quite attached to her myself."

"If you don't mind me asking, where's her mother?"

"Dead," Sherlock answered concisely.

"Oh my…I'm so sorry. That was so uncouth of me. I didn't think…" the army doctor began sputtering. "Oh it's fine," Sherlock reassured the man. "She died about seven years ago. Very close to the time Adaline was born."

"You raised her all on your own then?" John inquired. "Somewhat," Sherlock said simply. He didn't make a notion to elaborate. John felt as though he'd already pried far too much at this point, so he quickly moved on."So, uh, who are you then? What do you do exactly?"

"What do you think?" Sherlock countered, looking outside."Well," John began, hesitant, "I'd say private detective…" "But…" Sherlock prompted."…but the police don't go to private detectives."

"I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world. I invented the job." "What does that mean?" John asked, completely overcome by his curiosity now. "It means," Sherlock started, "that when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me."

"The police don't consult amateurs."Sherlock looked away from the window at that moment, and John almost felt bashful with the look he was giving him. He stopped himself from retracting his statement. "When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said, 'Afghanistan or Iraq?' You looked surprised."

"Yes I was. How did you know?" John asked him, leaning forward in his seat.

"I didn't know. I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. But your conversation as you entered the room…It was quite obvious that you were an army doctor. Your face is tanned but no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp gets really bad when you walk but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic. Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan….Afghanistan or Iraq," he loudly clicks the 'K' sound at the end of the final word, and John just stared. He was in utter disbelief of this man.

"You," John started, and found he had to clear his throat. "You said I had a therapist."

"You've got a psychosomatic limp – of course you've got a therapist. My daughter could figure that out. Then there's your brother."

"Hmm?" John prompted him to continue.

Sherlock held his hand out and John looked at him questioningly. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Your phone please." John looked at him wearily but reached in his side pocket, handing the detective his device dutifully. Sherlock took it and examined it as he spoke. "Your phone is expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you're looking for a flat share. You wouldn't waste money on this. It's a gift, then."He turned the phone over, studying the back. "Scratches. Not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me at this moment wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. The next bit of course, is child's play. You know it already.""The engraving," John said quietly.

Harry Watson

From Clara Xxx"

“Harry Watson. Clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who's Clara? Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently – this model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble then – six months on he's just given it away. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. People do – sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you: that says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you're not going to your brother for help: that says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife; maybe you don't like his drinking."

John was absolutely beside himself at this point, and couldn't contain the wonder in his voice. "How can you possibly know about the drinking?" Sherlock merely smiled at the man. "Complete shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection: tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone; never see a drunk's without them." Sherlock got a somewhat dark look on his face at that point, but it came and went so quickly John wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or not.

The detective handed the army doctor his phone back, and said, "There you go, you see – you were right." John looked at the man, both eyebrows raised now. "I was right? Right about what?"

"The police don't consult amateurs." Sherlock looked out the window again after he said this, and he bit his lip nervously, awaiting John's reaction. John saw this action and realized where Adaline had picked it up from.

Sherlock was sure he had just blown the whole getting a new flat mate thing. He had let his mouth run away again, and he and Adaline were probably going to have to move, yet again. He felt shame wash over him, and a bit of disgust. How was he going to explain this to his daughter?

"That…was amazing."

When Sherlock heard John's words, he whipped his head around to stare at him, shocked. He didn't say anything for several seconds. "Do you think so?" he said coolly, trying not to convey the surprise he was feeling.

"Of course it was," John nodded emphatically. "It was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary."

"That's not what people ordinarily say," Sherlock admitted. "What do people normally say then?" John asked.

"Piss off." Sherlock smiled briefly at John who laughed quietly and looked out the window.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The cab arrived at Lauriston Gardens, and the two men got out and walked towards the police tape that was strung across the road. "Did I get anything wrong?" Sherlock asked while they walked. He just wasn't able to contain his curiosity.

"Harry and me don't get on, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce; and Harry is a drinker," John explained. Sherlock's chest puffed up a bit, and John laughed at how impressed he looked with himself.

"Spot on, then," the detective bragged. "I didn't expect to be right about everything."

"Harry's short for Harriet."

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks, and noticing this, John stopped as well, looking back towards the man. "Harry's your sister."

"Look," John said, continuing onwards again. "What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?" Sherlock muttered to himself furiously, gritting his teeth together. "Sister! There's always something! Another lesson to impart to Adaline then…"

The two men approached the police tape where they were met by Sergeant Donovan. "Hello freak," Donovan sneered, and John was taken aback by the malice in her tone. "I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade," Sherlock cut to the chase, annoyed already. "Why?" she asked stupidly."

I was invited," he explained shortly.

"Why?" she repeated. John realized at that moment that he didn't very much like this woman.

Sherlock sighed to himself, as though trying to gather up the bit of patience he had left. "I think he wants me to take a look."

"Well you know what I think, don't you?"

"Always, Sally," he muttered, and began lifting up the tape.

"Where's baby freak?"

John watched as Sherlock stopped all of his movements. His back became tense and he didn't move for a very long four seconds. Suddenly he took a deep breath and turned to look at the woman. "You didn't make it home last night," he said simply."I don't…" Donovan started. "Who's this?" she countered, looking at John.

John opened his mouth to answer but Sherlock beat him to it. "Colleague of mine, Doctor Watson." Sherlock turned to John with a bored look on his face. "Doctor Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan." He paused then, and his nose twitched a bit. "Old friend."

"A colleague?" the woman screeched. "How do you get a colleague?! What, did he follow you home?" she questioned John, and he pursed his lips together in annoyance towards the woman's attitude. "Look," he said, choosing to look at Sherlock. "Would it be better if I just waited and…"

"No," Sherlock said, lifting the tape for him. The two of them walked towards the crime scene. Donovan lifted up her radio to her mouth. "Freak's here. Bringing him in." John heard her comment and shot a glance towards Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. Sherlock appeared as though he hadn't heard her.

When they got to the pavement, a man dressed in a coverall walked out of the house, approaching the two men. "Ah, Anderson," Sherlock said to him. "Here we are again."Anderson looked at him with distaste. "It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that? It's bad enough you bring your baby freak up here sometimes. Training them young are we?"

Sherlock took another deep breath in through his nose, and when he spoke, he voice was steady. "Quite clear. Is your wife away for long?"

"Oh don't pretend you worked that out," Anderson sneered. "Somebody told you that."

"Your deodorant told me that."

"My deodorant?" Anderson repeated. Sherlock smirked then. "It's for men." Anderson scoffed. "Well of course it's for men! Í'm wearing it!"

"So's Sergeant Donovan."

Anderson stopped and looked around in shock at Donovan. Sherlock sniffed very pointedly. "I think it just vaporized. May I go in?"

Anderson turned back around and pointed at the detective angrily. "Now look: whatever you're trying to imply…"

"No, you look," Sherlock suddenly thundered, and John had to stop himself from stepping back at the man's sudden change of tone. "I can excuse you calling me names. The two of you are blubbering idiots and together have the IQ of a flea." John watched as Sherlock bowed himself up even more towards the man. "However, if the word freak leaves your mouth one more time in concerns to my daughter..if I even feel as though your tongue is trying to form the word, or any other type of derogatory, vile name, I will make both of your lives an absolute living hell."

Sherlock leaned in close to Anderson's face, who at this point looked as though he was trying to get a hold on himself."Do. Not. Test Me." He finished darkly. He shoved himself past both Anderson and Donovan, and John snickered at their pale faces.

"Also," Sherlock started again, and the two of them looked at the man cautiously. "I'm sure Sally came round last night for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees."

Anderson and Donovan looked at the detective in horror. He looked at them pointedly, then turned and walked into the house.

John walked past Donovan, briefly looking down to her knees, and back up to her face. He raised an eyebrow at her, making sure the woman knew he was judging her, and followed Sherlock inside.

that’s part 2 over and done with! thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

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bcimbatmandude · 4 years

Text

More Human Than Meets the Eye-chapter 1

A/N: Hello! I’ve posted this before but stopped writing it, so I’m posting it again because I’ve picked it up again. This story involves Sherlock having a daughter. It goes through the series and we see how the character would change to fit around a 7 year old lol. This might be trash to some of you but it’s fun to write. Please enjoy!

"We don't know a thing about each other; I don't know where we're meeting; I don't even know your name!" John Watson was utterly flabbergasted. Here before him stood a tall, very strange man. He had short, dark curly hair. A scarf was hanging loosely around his neck, and he was sporting what appeared to be a very nice dark grey Milford Coat.

"We've only just met each other," John continued, "and you want to go look at a flat together?"

"Problem?" the curly haired man questioned, left eyebrow rising.

John just stared. His mouth opened and closed a few times. He was aware that he probably looked like a blubbering idiot, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of a retort. He looked to his left in the hopes of receiving assistance from his friend Mike. However, none was to be found. Mike smiled towards John somewhat smugly.

A bit put out, John finally managed to find his voice again. "Look mate, I don't know if…"

"You're an army doctor," the man interrupted. "You've been invalid from Afghanistan. You've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him due to either his alcoholism or the fact that he just recently walked out on his wife. I'm leaning towards the latter. Your therapist believes that your limp is psychosomatic. She's correct." He ended his rambling and smirked at John, then proceeded to stride towards the door.

"That's enough to sate you I believe." He opened the door and started to strut out before quickly swinging his upper half back inside the room. "The names Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon."

The door swung shut behind him, and John stared dumbly at it for a few seconds before swinging his head back towards Mike. The man simply smiled at his dumbfounded friend. "Yeah, he's always like that."

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

John gazed at the bronze letters in front of him curiously, his cane propped carefully next to him.

221B Baker Street.

The sound of a car pulling up interrupted his thought process, and he turned around to see the man from earlier, Sherlock Holmes, get out of his taxi. He closed the car door and leaned back in through the window to hand him the driver money. "Thanks very much," he said before turning around and walking towards John. "Hello again," he greeted, holding his hand out.

"Ah, Mr. Holmes," John replied, grabbing his hand in a firm shake. "Sherlock, please," he requested. John nodded and commented, "This looks like a prime spot. Must be expensive."

Sherlock hummed. "Yes I suppose it would be." At John's questioning look he continued. " The landlady, Mrs. Hudson, owed me a favor and gave me a special deal."

"Oh?" John hummed.

"Yes,” Mr. Holmes nodded. “A few years back her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to assist her with his sentencing." "You were able to stop her husband from being executed?" John inquired."Oh no," Sherlock smiled, "I ensured it."

Before John could respond to that, Sherlock had swung the door open. A small, older woman with a kind face was there to meet them, and John watched as she greeted Sherlock cheerfully. She embraced him, and John was somewhat surprised to see Sherlock briefly return her affections with a hug of his own.Sherlock allowed his landlady and new flat mate to exchange introductions before making his way upstairs to his abode. He waited patiently for John to limp his way up the necessary steps, and opened the door exposing the living room.

John thought the flat looked nice, very nice indeed. It just needed some tidying up. He said as much. "Well this could be nice. Very nice indeed."

"Yes, my thoughts precisely. So I went ahead and moved in." As he spoke the last sentence, John also said, "Soon as we get all the rubbish cleaned out."

An awkward pause filled the room, and John inwardly cringed. He opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could, he heard what he thought sounded like a child giggling. "Sorry," he started, looking at Sherlock in confusion. "Did I just hear a child?" Sherlock rolled his eyes."I forgot to mention that I have a…"

"Dad!"

John swung around towards the door of the flat, watching as a small child burst through and ran straight towards Sherlock.

"…daughter," Sherlock finished. John watched as the little girl ran up to Sherlock and hugged his leg. She only reached up to about a little above his knee, and John ruled her to be about 7 or 8 years old. She had blonde curly hair that reached to about her shoulders. She was turned towards her father so the rest of her features were hidden from him.

"Dad, you're back!" the child exclaimed happily.

"Yes," Sherlock simply replied. "I see you've gotten into the ice cream again."

The child stepped back a bit from the man, ducking her head. "Yes, well, Mrs. Hudson offered me some and I couldn't be rude and refuse…"Sherlock rolled his eyes again in exasperation. John figured he did that a lot.

"Hello!" He looked down towards the small voice that was suddenly addressing him. "My name's Adaline," she started, walking towards him. "Adaline Cecilia Holmes. But I just go by Adaline."

She held her hand out towards John.Highly amused at her adorable action, he gently took her small hand in his. "Are you going to live with us?" she inquired, looking up at him with big green eyes that matched her fathers.

In fact, a lot of her matched her father. She definitely had his particular shade of green eyes. The shape of her nose was from Sherlock, and her ivory complexion matched his as well. The only difference of course was the color of her hair, and a rosiness to her cheeks which made her look very innocent and cherub like.

"I believe so," John answered, and couldn't help but smile back at her when she beamed up at him in response to his statement.

"Adaline what on Earth are you wearing on your feet?" Sherlock spoke in an exasperated voice.John looked down curiously and chuckled. She was wearing bright green rain boots which didn't at all match the blue floral dress she had on. They had little lily pads on them and a frog was show cased near the toe of the boots. John was even more amused when she turned towards her father and the shoes let out a tiny croak.

"Do you like them?" she grinned excitedly. "Mrs. Hudson got them for me!"

"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock yelled suddenly. "Yes dear?" the kind lady inquired, walking inside. "Mrs. Hudson how many times have I told you that if you buy her clothing, it must be sensible?" The landlady's eyebrows went up in confusion. "I don't know what you mean Sherlock."

Croak.

John snickered a bit and Sherlock groaned. "Oh lighten up Sherlock," she lightly laughed. "She was such a sweet girl helping me tidy up my apartment and I couldn't resist." Sherlock huffed when Mrs. Hudson and Adaline both looked up at him with innocent smiles. "Oh alright," he conceded. "Next time just make sure you buy her things that aren't so…loud."

Mrs. Hudson nodded and looked towards John."What do you think of the flat then Doctor Watson? If you'll be needing two bedrooms there's another one right upstairs."

"Of course we'll be needing two bedrooms," he answered, slightly confused. She smiled at him. "Oh don't worry dear, there's all sorts round here. Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones." John spluttered in indignation and looked to Sherlock, who seemed to be oblivious to the land lady's words. "Sherlock the mess you've made!" Mrs. Hudson continued, also unaware of John's plight.

He watched as Sherlock began to somewhat attempt to tidy up the place. He limped himself over to the nearest armchair and plopped himself down. Adaline giggled at John's silliness and walked over to the coach, croaking the entire way. "Adaline I insist you take your shoes off before walking any further. I simply cannot endure the croaking." "But dad I can't take them off yet!" She cried, looking at her father imploringly. "Mrs. Hudson says I need to wear them as much as possible to work them in." "Of course she did," he muttered, letting the matter drop.

It was silent throughout the flat for a little bit then, and John glanced around trying to take everything in. His eyes landed on one particular item on the mantel piece. "That's a skull." He stated the obvious. "Friend of mine," Sherlock answered, glaring for a second at Adaline's shoes.

"His name is Rupert," Adaline provided for John. "I much prefer the name Billy," Sherlock countered.

"I looked you up on the internet last night," John said then.

"Find anything interesting?"

"I found your website," John answered. "The Science of Deduction." Sherlock smiled at John, quite proud of himself. "What did you think?"

His smile fell when John got a hesitant look on his face."You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb." "That's correct," Sherlock nodded. "I can also read your military career in your face and leg, and your brother's drinking habits by your mobile phone."

"How is that possible?"

"My dad is quite clever, Dr. Watson," Adaline said. Sherlock gave a small smile to his daughter in thanks. "What about these suicides then, Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson inquired. She walked over and grabbed the newspaper that had been thrown on the table in the living room. "Three exactly the same."

"Four," Sherlock corrected, walking over to the window and peering out of it. Adaline hopped up from her place on the coach and walked over to her father. She wrapped an arm around his leg, and he glanced down at her, placing his left hand on top of her head. She leaned into him sweetly and he gently began running his fingers through her curls. "There's been a fourth."

John turned his head towards the door when he heard footsteps coming up towards the flat. Inspector Lestrade strode through. The man looked over at John, giving him a polite nod in greeting before looking back towards the curly haired man.

"Uncle Greg!" Lestrade looked down when he suddenly felt something small attach itself to his leg and grip it firmly. "Hello Ada!" he greeted warmly, hugging her back happily. He was quite fond of the little girl, and commented to Sherlock as often as he could how much more pleasant she was than her father."Where?" Sherlock asked the detective, cutting right to the chase."Brixton, Lauriston Gardens," Lestrade answered, looking away from the child now and back to Sherlock.

"What's new about this one?" Adaline asked, and the detective looked back down, eyebrow raised. "Uncle Greg you wouldn't have come if there was nothing new," she finished smartly. He shook his head a bit at her astuteness, and answered. "This one decided to be a bit different and leave a note. Will you come?"

Sherlock gave a pause before continuing. "Who's on forensics?"

"Anderson."

Sherlock grimaced and Adaline looked at her father worriedly. John had no idea what was going on or why Adaline was now somewhat pouting. "Anderson won't work with me," Sherlock said."Well he won't be your assistant." "I need an assistant."

Adaline opened her mouth, and without even looking in her direction, Sherlock said, "No, Adaline." She huffed and crossed her arms dejectedly.

"Will you come?" Lestrade asked again."Not in a police car," he answered. "I'll be right behind." Lestrade thanked the man and left. Silence echoed through the flat for a good five seconds before Sherlock excitedly leapt into the air, clenching his fists triumphantly. He picked his daughter up and whirled her around in a circle happily.

The little girl, completely forgetting she was supposed to be upset, giggled wildly and latched onto her father's arms. He plopped a sweet kiss on her forehead before setting her down and running towards the door.

"Brilliant!" he cried. "Absolutely brilliant. Four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh it's Christmas! Mrs. Hudson please watch Adaline for me. I know you won't mind. I'll probably be late coming back; make sure she eats something. Bed by 9:30 at the latest. I will also require sustenance."

"I'm your land lady Sherlock, not your babysitter," she reminded him."Something cold will do," he continued.

He stopped all movements suddenly and looked towards Adaline. He gave her 'the look' and she sighed and nodded, seemingly understanding just what it entailed. He nodded back, satisfied. "John, have a cuppa and make yourself at home. Don't wait up!" Sherlock darted out of the room, leaving the three remaining occupants staring at each other. Adaline croaked herself over to her father's chair, sitting down. She kept looking towards the door, as if she were waiting for something to happen.

"Look at him, dashing about!" Mrs. Hudson tutted. "My husband was just the same." She smiled fondly towards John. "But you're more the sitting down type, I can tell. I'll make you that cup of tea. You just rest your leg."

"Damn my leg!" John shouted loudly and quite unexpectedly, making Mrs. Hudson and Adaline look at him in shock.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry," he back tracked when he realized he had startled a child. She looked at him from her chair, blinking owlishly. "It's just sometimes this bloody thing…"

"I understand dear," Mrs. Hudson cut in. "I've got a hip." John cleared his throat. "A cuppa would be quite lovely, thank you." "Just this once dear," the land lady replied, walking towards her flat. "Couple of biscuits too, if you've got them."

"I'll help Mrs. Hudson!" Adaline threw in sweetly, bouncing towards the older woman. Mrs. Hudson chuckled fondly towards the child. "You just want some more sweets." "Well.." the blonde haired girl started. Mrs. Hudson winked and lowered her voice a bit. "It'll be our little secret dear." Adaline beamed at her and John chuckled at the two. He picked up the newspaper next to him, and began sifting through it.

"You're a doctor," John heard a deep voice say and looked over to see Sherlock leaning against the doorway. His eyebrows rose. "Yes…" he started. "In fact you're an army doctor."

"I am," John confirmed.

"Any good?"

"Very good."

"Seen a lot of injuries then. Violent deaths."

"Yes."

"Bit of trouble too, I bet." "Of course, yes," John answered quietly. He watched as Adaline peeked her way in through the doorway again, having heard her father's voice. "Enough for a lifetime. Far too much.""Want to see some more?" Sherlock inquired, already knowing the answer. John looked away from Adaline to Sherlock. "Oh God, yes."

The two men headed out of the room towards the front door. "Are you all going out?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "Impossible suicides Mrs. Hudson? Four of them? There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" He took the older woman by her shoulders and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.

"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent," she said, the smile on her face contradicting her words."Who cares about decent?" Sherlock and John headed towards the door, John going outside first.

Sherlock went to follow when he stopped suddenly and turned back towards the flat. John turned as well and saw that Adaline had grabbed the back of her father's coat. Sherlock kneeled down to her level."I'll be back very soon," he promised quietly.

Adaline said nothing, only gazed at her father very seriously for several seconds. She bit her lip and creased her eyebrows and John had to fight back a smile at the adorableness. He didn't dare move for fear of interrupting the father-daughter moment. She nodded then, and Sherlock moved towards her, grabbing her small body in a tight hug before kissing the side of her head and standing to his full height once again, and bounding outside.

"The game is on!"

that’s chapter 1! I’ve gotten all the way to chapter 13 written I think?? I’ll post them randomly. anyway! thanks for reading! next one should be up soon.

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bcimbatmandude · 5 years

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The person who first discovered that coconut could be eaten must have experienced depths of hunger many will never know.

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bcimbatmandude · 5 years

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Fucccckkkk

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

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bcimbatmandude · 5 years

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Roronoa Rain- Part One

A/N: hello!! I started a new story on fan fiction, and I wanted to share it on here as well. It’s One Piece which is my true love of shows and stories. It’s a sibling fic between Zoro and the OC and a possible romance as well. Anyway, y’all enjoy!!

“Zoro-nii you said it wouldn’t take long to get to the next town!!” I whined, trying to resist the urge to stomp my foot. “It took forever!” “Stop whining,” he grunted. He was sitting cross legged in the boat, head reclined back and eyes closed. “I’m so hungry!!”

“Laaaand!!!!” I cried triumphantly, reaching over the edge of the boat and shoving my hands in the water, trying and failing to push the boat ever faster towards land. My eyes grew big as we got closer and I began chanting.

“Land..land..land...laaaandd!! Food food foooood!!!!!”

“Oi!” Zoro shouted suddenly. I got over excited as I usually did, and tried to jump out of the boat a little too soon, planting face first into the sand. I popped right back up though, and thrust my pointer finger into the air triumphantly. “Land!” I shouted for the final time, and made to take off towards the road that would hopefully lead us to a town.

“Oi!” I heard behind me, and suddenly my progress forward was jolted to a stop. I looked back towards my brother with a whine, my feet continuing to move but my body unable to.

“Zorrrroooo-niiiii!” I whined, pulling on my shirt that he’d grabbed on to. “Let go!!” I pinched his hand but it was to no avail, as Zoro just rolled his eyes and pulled me closer so I was forced to face him.

“Meet me at the town bar in an hour, and don’t eat too many sweets. Stay out of trouble,” he grunted again, and I quickly nodded. “K Zo-Zo,” I agreed, and he sighed, making me grin. He hated that name.

My brother and I quickly parted ways and I made my way into town. The first place I was stopping? A sweet shop of course. I hummed to myself as I passed a variety of stores, smiling at the vendors sweetly.

“Yay!” I cried, finally setting my eyes on a small bakery. My stomach growled just thinking about the awesomny goodness inside, and I rubbed my hands together in excitement before running towards the store.

“Sweets!” I shouted, bursting my way inside. There was a lady at the counter that jolted a bit as I did this, but then quickly continued what she was doing, muttering something about ‘dumb kids..’

My mouth began watering looking at all of the treats piled on for display and I slid back and forth from end to end, muttering to myself. “Which one should I get?? The strawberry pie looks amazing but that triple chocolate cake looks perfect!! Are those cookies?!” I yanked on my hair in distress, but finally, a solution popped into my head and I smiled, eyes lighting up.

“Excuse me,” I cleared my throat politely in front of the shop woman, and she gave me a dry look. “Yes?” “I’d like to get three slices of your triple chocolate cake, a dozen of your peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, and one slice of strawberry pie. Please.” I ended, remembering my manners. The woman’s eyes went wide, but she nodded and quickly gathered up my order.

I smiled in content as I walked down the road through the town, holding my bag of sweets in one hand and finishing off my fifth cookie in the other. I made my way to the bar, humming a song that had been stuck in my head for a while. I finally found the bar after getting lost three or four times, and asking an older couple for directions (sense of direction was definitely hereditery in this case). Making my way inside the bar, I walked over to the front counter, automatically taking in my surroundings as I did so, and was taught to do by my brother.

I got a few weird looks but was mostly ignored and sat down on a bar stool right as the bartender made her way towards me. “Hello!” she greeted cheerily, and I smiled, watching a little girl come up beside her with a notebook in her hand. “What can we get for you?” I thought about ordering food but was still pretty hyped up on sweets. “I don’t really want anything right now. I’m actually waiting for someone. Has a man carrying three swords made his way through here yet?”

The woman stiffened a bit then, which I noticed, and in turn my eyes sharpened. I retained my relaxed smile and facade though, hoping that it would calm her nerves. The little girl, her daughter I’m presuming, spoke up then. “We saw him! He came to the bar and was really nice to me. He saved me from Helmoppo’s pet wolf.”

“His pet wolf, huh?” I confirmed, rubbing my forehead. And he told me to stay out of trouble… I thought to myself wearily.

“Ye-huh!” the little girl replied excitedly. “I’m afraid the man you’re looking for has been arrested,” the woman spoke up then, and I looked up sharply. “What?” I questioned, and I saw her tense even more.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized immediately, feeling guilty. “I didn’t mean to scare you. That man is my brother and I’m just worried about him. Can you tell me what happened after the wolf incident?”

The woman nodded in understanding. “I understand your concern,” she said, and pulled her daughter closer to her. Her eyes filled with tears then and she sniffed, “After he saved my daughter from the wolf, your brother made a deal with Helmoppo. He agreed to be arrested if only they would leave my daughter be. He made a deal with him about lasting one month at the marine base without food or water. I’m so sorry,” she finished.

“Don’t be sorry,” I waved her off, and she gaped. “How can you say that?”

“It’s not like it’s a death sentence or anything,” I assured her. “Zoro’s tough. He’ll be fine.” I’ll make sure of it, I said to myself.

Zoro was older than me by 3 years. He was 19, I was 16. He was of course, stupidly over protective, and that had a lot to do with the fact that he practically raised me. We didn’t really look alike except for our green eyes, so people didn’t realize we were siblings most of the time until they got to know us. I was short, Zoro was tall. I came up to about his shoulders, on a good day. He was muscular, I was kind of tiny. I had a flat stomach, but I was curvy and muscular from the hard core training Zoro and I had done over the years.

Zoro had lightly tanned skin, which I had as well, but I definitely burned much easier than he did. I resembled a lobster when I got too much sun, he just darkened up more. Zoro-nii has green hair, I have auburn curly hair. I don’t have any piercings, unlike Zoro, but I do have a tattoo. It’s a compass done on my left calf muscle. It’s got blue and purple water colors surrounding it. I got it last year for my 15th birthday, and it’s my favorite feature.

Although Zoro was older than me, I was just as protective towards him as he was of me. We really only had each other growing up, and grew ridiculously close because of that. I looked out for him, he looked out for me. It would never change.

“Thank you so much for the information,” I said getting up from my seat and bowing towards the woman and her daughter. I made to turn around to leave the bar, but was stopped by the woman grabbing my arm. “Wait,” she said, and I turned towards her curiously. “If you don’t have anywhere to stay tonight, as a thank you for your brother saving my daughter, we would be humbled if you chose to stay in our spare room upstairs.”

I smiled at her brightly. “That’s very kind of you. I’ll gladly take up your offer,” she smiled in relief, but her smile dropped a bit as I continued. “On one condition.” “Yes?” she said, hesitant. “If I’m going to be staying here I need to at least earn my keep. I’m an awesome server!” I said brightly, giving her a thumbs up. The woman went to argue but then stopped, obviously sensing my stubbornness. “Well,” she began, “we are actually short staffed. I suppose that would be alright,” she nodded.

“Awesome!” I shouted, giving her a double thumbs up. Her daughter giggled and I threw her a wink. “Before all of that though, I need to go find my idiot brother.” “I understand. Please be careful,” she said in a motherly tone. “I’ll be fine,” I confirmed, touched by her concern. Suddenly, I felt a tug on my shirt and looked down to see the little girl peering up at me. “Tell your oni-chan I said thank you for rescuing me,” she said in a sweet voice, and I grinned towards her, kneeling down to her level.

“Absolutely!” I said, and reached into my bag for my sweets. Her eyes lit up when I pulled out a cookie, and she immediately snatched it out of my hand, making me burst into laughter, and causing her mother to gasp. “Rika! Don’t be so rude!” she scolded. “It’s fine!” I said, still giggling. “What do you say?” her mother said, nudging her daughter.

“Fank fu,” the little girl, Rika said, smiling at me through a mouthful of cookie. “You’re very welcome!” I replied, ruffling her hair before standing up to my full height again. “I’ll be back soon. I’m just going to see what’s going on with my brother and this Helmeppo guy. Bye for now!” I waved, and left the store in search of the marine base for my idiot brother.

A/N: so that’s part one!! I guess we’ll see if anyone wants part 2. I’ve got about 9 chapters written.

Thanks for reading!!!

Batman out. 😁😁

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #zoro #nami #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro #sanji vinsmoke #sanji #pirate #straw hat #straw hat pirates #one piece usopp #usopp #chopper #pirate hunter zoro #ocs #oc fiction #ace

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