City in the Sky

I pulled away, and nearly yelled. "What, may I ask, were you doing to my only daughter?" he asked me in his deep, intimitating voice.

I carefully moved my hair again, "Nothing. Just out of curiosity... Why are you here?"

"I heard Jasper's thoughts. What is it you wanted to tell me?" I looked at the both of them.

I looked up at Jasper.

Jasper: I gulped a bit and gently lifted her off of my lap. "Sir, I would like to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

I sat on my hands.

I looked at Sherlock, trying to see what was going through his mind.

((Can you write Sherlock's reaction?))

((Idk what to write...))

((How do you think he would react, because I honestly don't know. On a scale of him being best man to Mrs. Hudson getting hurt?))

((Umm... probably less than Mrs. Hudson getting hurt, but more than the middle of the scale))

((Hmm... like, being afraid for the first time, but without the fear?))

((Yeah))

((So, he'll deduct Jasper like heck?))

((Sure, but I don't know how to write it...))

((I can.))

((Oki))

I kept my ring hidden.

Sherlock: I peered my eyes and cleared my throat.

"Oh no," I mumbled under my breath.

"Let's start with the reasons why I should say no." I looked him up and down once and turned away. "I know how much blood you've seen, but you've shed so much more with your Russian days. Judging by the callouses on your fingers, not only have you become an expert marksman, you also have a confirmed 34 kills.
"Your choice of clothing in such weather implies scars you are ashamed of. Not from Russia, but from someone else. Christine has the same scars. You're still keeping secrets, Jasper. The veins of your eyes show how often you burst into rage, also with the coloring of your ears." I tsked. "So much rage, and with your past, you show many signs of being a very abusive man in your future should you take to liquor... which is likely, given the scars hidden on your upper arms."

I sighed softly.

I got a drink of water. "Now, where it comes to being an actual husband, while you may be responsible and financially kept, you know nothing except for the honeymoon phase. You can never get pets, due to your irrational fear of hairless cats, and your allergy to fur, as told by your completely hairless clothes, meaning you run a lint roller over it often." I reached into his pocket and pulled out his inhaler. "Also, you are a compulsive liar and a kleptomaniac. Lenora, don't check his pockets. Now, back to the lying, you never tell the truth concerning your own health, whether it be a cold, which you have right now-" I pulled the medicine out of his other pocket. "-Or cancer, which you fought off and beat when you were seven. How can Lenora ever trust you to be honest if something terrible ever happened? Imagine Christine dying in two years, and he's the first to know. He'll never tell you to spare your feelings, and as heroic as he might think it is, it really isn't, and you'll never know, Lenora."

"You done yet?"

I held up my hand. "Not to mention terrible father, again with the liquor, and lack of experience." I lowered my hand. "Okay, now I'm done."

"My turn." I stood up and looked my dad in the eye, "You have no room to talk. You may not have drank alcohol, but you are a drugee. You weren't around most of my life so obviously you don't have experience with being a father evil. You were a spy so that checks off the compulsive liar box. And you really want to go as far as abusive? I almost killed me!! Twice!! So do not act like you're better than him. Do not act like you aren't guilty of anything." I sat back down.

"I never said I wasn't guilty of anything, Lenora. I know I'm terrible. You had Christine shout at me on many occasions! However, you failed to notice that all my observations already mean you know how to deal with it, and set him straight, should he ever stray from his bright path that he's built for himself. So, with that, you have my blessing."