"And that's.... Every day?" he asked baffled.

"Yes, Sherlock, school is every day except Saturdays and Sundays where you'll have to keep an eye on her," John explained for what felt like the thirtieth time.

"Right," he replied while nodding; "And, keeping an eye on her, what exactly does that include?"

"Keeping an eye on her includes, for one, reacting when she's missing! I'll go check my room, maybe there's something I didn't see," John decided and stood up from his chair.

Sherlock leaned his head back in his chair, already exhausted from the mere thought of having to take care of that child.

"Macy!" he heard John exclaim surprised; "Where have you been?"

"Right, mind having a word with your father and I in the living room?"

He nodded before closing the door. He looked at his friend.

"Good news. I found her."

"So the thing you didn't see in there... Was the girl you thought were gone?" Sherlock questioned.

"Macy! I was in your room about 15 minutes ago and you most certainly weren't there, where you?" John asked her as soon as she returned to the living room.

"Well, no," she admitted; "But I was right outside."

"I've had it with this nonsense. First she's missing, then she's not, then she is and then she's outside. I'll be at the lab," Sherlock announced and stood up.

"Sit!" John ordered him; "Both of you."

The father and daughter sat down besides each other, both carefully watching the man in front of them.

"Okay, Macy, you'll be staying here for the next few months, so we have to set a few ground rules. No climbing out the window, that's the first one," he decided on the spot before sighing.

"What school do you go to? We'll have to arrange for someone to drive you there," John asked her with a tired look on her face.

"I don't go to school," Macy replied quietly.

"That's against the law, Penrose," the father lectured.

"Oh yeah, unlike the gun you have taped to the bottom of your chair. Don't you think I've noticed both that it's there and that you've been trying to avoid having me notice it? Clearly it's not registered," she replied with self confidence beeming.

"Stop deducing me!" Sherlock repeated himself, leaving Macy to smile provocatively.

"Enough, you two!" John interrupted. He thought for a second; "Sherlock, you'll have to get Macy enrolled to a school this week," he decided.

"What? No! I've never gone to school!" Macy cried out.

"Well, that'll just have to change because I have important grown up stuff to do and you being around me all day will be too distracting," Sherlock informed her.

"No, that's not why, Macy. You have to go to school because not going is against the law and because it's vital for your education," John lectured. Sherlock rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

"Now, I'd like to know where you were when I was in the room?" John said to Macy, and made the statement sound like a question.

"I was outside. I needed peace to think and you talking was interrupting," she explained with a shrug.

"Oh, we were interrupting!" Sherlock commented sarcastically, receiving a stern look from John.

"That's it, I'm going to the lab," he decided and stood up and left in a hurry. John sighed deeply but said nothing.

"You can read it," Macy said with a tiny voice. John looked up at the girl in front of him.

"The letter. I noticed that you want to. I don't mind," she explained and handed him the open envelope.

John tried to read her, but got nothing, and instead took the envelope and opened it.

"Macy,

If you read this, it's safe to assume that I'm dead.

I've left all earthly possessions to your father as payment for the time you'll need to stay there.

You're welcome.

-your mother"

"Wauw," John stated and handed the letter back to Macy, who quickly put it into her pocket.

"How come you haven't gone to school before, Macy?" he asked worriedly and folded his hands.

"My mother feared I'd become too much like my father," she admitted while looking down.

"You are," John told her. She looked up suddenly.

"You're very much like your father," he repeated; "But that is a good thing. Your father is a good man, although he has his difficulties."

"He's scared," Macy let John know. He blinked confused.

"Of what, Macy?" he asked gently.

"Of being alone. Of you leaving him. I suspect someone big to him perhaps died in his childhood, but I'm not sure who," she admitted.

"Well, he has nothing to be scared of, because I'm not leaving him," John promised. Macy nodded.

"Thank you. I'm glad he has someone to take care of him," she whispered.