Work Text:
“No.”
“But he’s nice.”
“He’s only been able to drink openly for a year and already on the route the alcoholism. Bad memory too he had to check his phone for his number before presenting it to you a few years and he’ll have Alzheimers and you’ll be left alone.”
“A few years.”
“You are you father’s daughter Rosie. If you are going to attract trouble you must be aware of it.”
Rosie sighed, tossing the number in the trash. She wished John had picked her up instead of Sherlock but he was working until late catching up on hours after a case that had taken him and Sherlock away to Wales. Something about a castle she hadn’t gotten to read the blog yet. Not that Sherlock had to see the boy to dismiss him, this was the third one this month.
“Cheater. Addict. Gay. He’s just trying to make your friend jealous. He wants to copy your homework. The ache’s is at a stage where it could be handled by prescription yet he does nothing. Lazy and unhygienic. HIV. He’s fine but boring, you won’t be able to solve crimes with him.”
“I don’t need to solve crimes with him dad.” She pulled her laptop back looking over the Facebook profile pulled up looking it over. He had a rock collection. Then again Sherlock had a rock collection. She sighed, “Is there anyone, anyone in the school you’d approve of?”
“Giles has a son, probably an idiot and living with his ex but—“
“It’s Greg dad.”
Mrs. Hudson bustled in with a tea tray, “Sherlock darling would you give Rosie a break? Young love is—“
“I’d prefer not have advice from a women who married a drug dealer thank you very much Miss Hudson. Out.”
“But Sherlock.”
“Go watch your shows and stop listening through the doors for drama. The third stair has begun to creek I can hear you.” He was wearing nicotine patches again, he was worried then. She just wanted to find someone to prove she could, to prove that there was someone he wouldn’t be able to criticize.
“She’s on the honor roll.”
“Yes but no extracurriculars.”
“He’s president of the student council.”
“Repeat that.”
“He is in the student council. He’s ambitious.”
“Inflated sense of self-worth. Likely hoping for a future in politics. You do not want a Junior Mycroft.”
“They’re nice.” “Is that all? Boring, NEXT.”
“Want’s to be a surgeon.” “Hmm? Name?”
“Eggsy.” “Won’t get along with the parents if they gave him that foolish name.”
“Dad.”
She started to put candidates through all the checks she could think of. First the police database, then Facebook and other social media platforms. She read up on their parents, siblings, and checked through previous yearbooks. For three months Rosie didn’t bring up anyone. Finally going on four months she settled on a candidate made all the arrangements. He was nice looking toned but not a jock. He was middle class with no leanings towards politics. After having a male friend attempt to draw him for a whole week she could confirm he wasn’t gay. After following him herself she could tell he didn’t have drug habits.
She arranged things and he agreed to go on a date with her to her inner relief. She made sure to pick him up so he looked progressive not ashamed of leaning outside of traditional gender roles. Everything was perfect. Sherlock and John were talking to a client when she got in with Tommy (they had wanted to meet him of course as she had never been on a date before largely due to Sherlock denying everyone and John threatening to break every bone in their bodies alphabetically if they hurt her).
“Dads, this is—”
“A boy who is clearly hoping to shag you tonight judging by the tin of mints and packet of condoms in his pockets. Next!”
She glanced sideways to a Tommy but Tommy was already backing away looking terrified. Mrs. Hudson came to the door and he took the opportunity to make a run for it. Another day down another boy gone.