"Sherlock," Lestrade stopped the detective in his tracks, putting a hand to separate the young man and the door, "I don't think anyone has told you what you're dealing with." Sherlock rolled his eyes in a way John had told him once should be patent pended as the official, 'Are you fucking kidding me?' look and scoffed at Lestrade.
"They didn't need to. Child, six years old, only witness to the crime scene. Sally did tell me that she wanted me to make the child talk, correct?" Sherlock said, to which John smirked at Lestrade, as if saying, 'mmhh, take that.' Lestrade sighed and dropped his hand before whispering to Sherlock, "She's talking about pirates."
"Oh no," John said from behind Sherlock.
"Oh yes," Lestrade confirmed, looking back up at the detective. "Are you sure you'll be able to handle this?" Sherlock rolled his eyes because he was Sherlock Holmes, and if there was anything he could handle, it was a child, even if the child was only going to speak of pirates. Sherlock had a large knowledge of practically everything in the world, (as he reminded John time and time again,) and that knowledge was not limited to pirates. He popped his collar up without another word to Lestrade and pushed open the door, beckoning for John to follow him. He sat across from the young girl, two blonde braids running down her back, tied off at the bottom with blue ribbon. She looked up at Sherlock and his partner and waved shyly. John waved back with a small smile, but Sherlock was having none of it. As horrible as he was with adults, he was even worse when interacting with children. Their small intellect made him sick, he had once told John.
"Hi mister," The child said in a small voice that would have made any man coo. That is, any man besides Sherlock Holmes, of course.
"What are you called?" Sherlock asked, looking up at the child for the first time since he entered the room. His hands were folded on the table and his razor-sharp glare was focused on the young girl.
"Annabeth," The blonde answered simply, to which Sherlock nodded.
"Hello Annabeth. Now tell me, what did yo-"
"Which do you think is cooler, pirates or ninjas?" Sherlock looked a little taken back by the question, but quickly shook that off, seeing as though he was Sherlock Holmes and nothing could keep him startled for more than a minute or two.
"Ninjas. Now if you could pl-"
"Really?" Annabeth broke in again, "I think pirates are cooler."
"Well," Sherlock said quite seriously, "Ninjas are quite obviously more versatile. They can blend into things and move without being detected an-"
"Yeah," Annabeth cut him off, to which John snickered in the background, "But pirates have like, cool boats and things. And all ninjas have is like, weird black masks."
"Boats are for idiots like yourself." Sherlock remarked without a second thought.
John gasped behind him, "Sherlock!"
"Pirates are cooler than ninjas and that's that!" Annabeth said finally. Sherlock scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"Well, of course you would think that."
"What are you saying?"
"You are obviously a dull child, not by fault of your own, most likely by fault of your parents for not giving you a proper education or having a mentally stilled child."
"Sherlock," John said in a warning voice. Both Annabeth and Sherlock ignored him and continued their fight.
"Are you calling me dumb?"
"Ding ding ding, we have a winner!" Sherlock proclaimed sarcastically.
"Pirates are cooler."
"Ninjas are."
"Pirates."
"Ninjas."
"Pirates."
"Ninjas."
"PIRATES!"
"SHERLOCK HOLMES," John yelled, which caught Sherlock's attention. Sherlock nodded and smoothed his shirt before sitting back down again.
"My partner is right, we shouldn't waste our time arguing about such petty matters. Now, if you would please." Annabeth took after him and sat back in her chair, "Now, where were you the evening of-"
"But what about beavers and otters?"