Poison & Puzzles

My Father's Daughter Pt. 2

"Did you need to assault the boy?" I was in the back of my Uncle's car, having changed into my clothes for rehearsal. He wasn't pleased with how my meeting had gone. He held up the vial to inspect it further. I had already told him everything I'd observed about the boy up until he'd gotten a bit too fresh and I'd had to remove myself from the situation. With an elbow to his nose.

My uncle was tall and lanky, like my Da, though Da was slightly shorter. My uncle barely fit comfortably in the back of the car. Taking one last look at the vial Uncle Myc placed it in the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

"You're going to pass it on to Da after you have it tested, aren't you?" It was a stupid idea. If Da chose to pursue the case it's likely that he'd run into someone that could give him my description and he'd soon figure out my and Uncle Mycroft's 'little arrangement'.

"Don't worry, I'm sure we can figure this one out without him. Besides, I think after this afternoon your further involvement makes little sense." He said it simply, but cautiously, anticipating my argument.

"So you're firing me?" I scoffed.

"No, you're family, I simply no longer require your assistance in the matter." Translation. Yes, I was canned.

"Are you still coming to my recital on Friday?" I changed the subject, apparently to one he was even less comfortable with.

"Yes, and I know I promised I would try and talk him into-" I cut him off there, this was something I was getting all too familiar with.

"You promised to blackmail him, but I'm guessing that didn't go over well." I hated how much I sounded like a disappointed toddler.

"No. He's planning on telling you he has an urgent case." At least someone knew I couldn't be lied to.

"And I will pretend not to mind, and we both will be able to tell the other is lying." Uncle Myc looked at a loss for words, like he wanted to comfort me but wasn't used to the idea or practice.

"I'm sorry Emmalynn. Really." At least he sounded sorry. I looked up. Yeah, he actually felt bad for me. My stomach knotted. That was even worse than I anticipated him not caring would be.

"Part of me wonders what would happen if we told them that I helped you with investigations. If he would be proud." I don't know why I said it out loud.

"John would murder me. Sherlock-" He stopped, thinking it over, and then trying to decide what he wanted to tell me. "I'm sure he would be stuck between selfish pride and horror that someone might be better at this than he is." I couldn't help but smile at that.

The car rolled to a slow stop in front of the dance studio and I got out of the car, turning to flash him one last half smile. "Thank you, and I'm sorry I broke your leads nose."

"You are your fathers daughter, and I'm not referring to Sherlock. That move and temper were all Watson." He flashed the smallest hint of a smile and I closed the car door, heading towards the studio. I was perfectly content with that observation.

I said a quick hello to Maddie and headed towards the mirrors. I was late and it was already my turn. I nodded and my instructor hit play. Suddenly I was lost in the music. More than usual. I was grateful I had switched to Contemporary dance two years ago and convinced Madeline to join me at the last second. We were both sick of Ballet. Da hadn't been to a recital to notice, and I wasn't sure if he'd care. Papa had been supportive, and Uncle Myc pretended to be as indifferent as always. Madeleine's parents had been furious. Apparently they didn't see much dignity in Contemporary. I thought it was raw and beautiful and perfect. With help I'd created this routine myself. It was rage and hate and everything I'd ever wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. He'd notice if he came. He'd finally see. I'm still here you bloody idiot. I'm still breathing and hurting and waiting for my Da to save me. Everything I do is in the hope that he'll notice and I hate it. I hate that he makes me try. I hate that every time I make a decision it's twisted in his direction.