I Still Remeber John Watson's Daughter

Chapter 9 Killer Cabbie

A/N: Happy birthday to my day who had his birthday today and to a friend of mine who celebrated her birthday earlier this week LaceyBaucom.

Chapter nine

I listened as the cabbie talked to Sherlock and Sherlock kept glancing around. I didn't know if he saw me or not but I knew that he most likely knew that I was there. The cabbie goaded him into the cab and I started to run along the roof, jumping buildings to follow. Sometimes I had to run on the streets because the space between the buildings was too great to jump.

I couldn't guess where they were going; the route the cabbie was taking was an odd one. I wasn't sure if he had seen me and was trying to lose me. Finally, we arrived at Ronald-Kerr Further Education College. I hid in the shadows and watched and watched as the cabbie came round to Sherlock's door and opened it. I couldn't hear what they were saying but I saw him pull a gun on Sherlock. Even at this distance in the dark, I could tell the gun was a fake. Sherlock had made sure I could tell the difference between a real gun and a fake, that I could fire one, clean it, put it back together, everything.

Both of them headed inside and I followed silently. Sherlock had often told me I moved quieter than the dead. I had learned to be quiet so I could sneak out of my aunt's house. I followed to a lab. I needed a hiding place, the lab was open, lots of tables, two large windows, the lights were on. "Shit," I muttered looking around. There were rafters I could get into, just one problem; they were 30 feet above my head.

As the cabbie and Sherlock took a seat and chatted I made my way into the rafters and I parked myself behind the cabbie so he wouldn't see me. Sherlock noticed me, but he didn't look at me, he wouldn't draw attention to me. "Bit risky, wasn't it? Took me away under the eye of about half a dozen policemen. They're not that stupid. And Mrs. Hudson and Bella will remember you, especially Bella."

Yeah, I would remember him. If he hurt Sherlock I would end him here and now. "You call that a risk? Nah." The cabbie then reached into his pocket and pulled out a glass pill bottle. "This is a risk." Sherlock and I both looked at it, I was pretty sure of where this was going but didn't say anything. "Ooh, I like this bit. 'Cause you don't get it yet, do yer? But you're about to. I just have to do this." I watched as he removed a second glass bottle, identical to the first from his other pocket and he placed it on the table.

It contained a pill that looked just like the one in the other bottle. "You weren't expecting that, were yer?" I tried not to interfere; right now Sherlock had it under control. "Ooh, you're going to love this."

"Love what?" Sherlock asked and he sounded annoyed.

The cabbie leaned back in his chair, "Sherlock 'olmes. Look at you! 'Ere in the flesh. That website of yours: your fan told me about it." What fan? I wanted to shift to a better position to be able to defend Sherlock but I couldn't get good footing up here.

"My fan?" Sherlock asked.

"You are brilliant. You are. A proper genius. 'The science of Deduction.' Now that is proper thinking. Between you and me sitting 'ere, why can't people think? Don't it make you mad? Why can't people just think?" I rolled my eyes. This guy thought he was a proper genius.

"Oh, I see. So you're a proper genius too," Sherlock said with complete sarcasm. I had to bite my tongue. I didn't want to start laughing.

"Don't look it, do I? Funny little man drivin' a cab. But you'll know better in a minute. Chances are it'll be the last thing you ever know." When the cabbie said that I pulled the revolver from my pocket. I had taken it from Sherlock's nightstand.