Okay... I've finished my science exam and now all i have to survive is literature but oh well.

This story is about John and Sherlock having a little girl. Who knows? I might add more and make more one shots to follow. You'll all have to tell me what you think about the idea. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story.

FYI... This is my first time writing with the John/Sherlock pairing so they might be a little OOC but I tried to keep them how they are in the TV show. Season 2 is amazing! Loved Irene Adler and the huge hound. Wonder how tonight's is gunna go.

Enjoy!


The young girl tossed and turned violently, convulsing beneath the sheets of her bed while she fought against the invisible foes that resided deep in the darkest corner of her mind. The bedroom door creaked open, allowing the pair who were woken to check up on her though unlike the girl who was trapped, they couldn't see the monsters she was battling against. With her body twisted at an awkward angle, she threw herself a foot into the air, the small bed groaning on impact when her weight crashed back down on top of it with a reasonable amount of force.

Sherlock observed her carefully for a few moments while she squirmed, trying to gauge what she was dreaming about and how deep her sleep was. His husband stood beside him, seeming to wait until he shared what he had concluded but he didn't get his wish as the detective stayed silent. After a minute, the detective took a step forward, intent on waking her up so she would be released from her night terrors. John, seeing this, placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. Whipping around to face him, Holmes waited for him to say something.

" You have to wake her up gently Sherlock. If you wake her too suddenly, she could go into shock". He murmured quietly, his voice showing ever little bit of worry and concern that was also filling his eyes. Taking the information into account, he quickly changed his plan and approached her bed carefully, avoiding flailing limbs when necessary. However, the closer he got to the girl, the cleared her screamed and whimpered words became.

" P-Please... l-let them g-go. NO! Dad! Daddy!" She yelled, throwing herself into the air once more. After that, the words stopped but her screams carried on filling the room. Lily's chest rose and fell frantically while she panted for air. Approaching the young teenager with caution, the detective placed a hand on her arm then began shaking it lightly but it was like she couldn't feel it.

" Let him go... please". She whimpered pathetically so he shook her with a little bit more force that should have helped but it had the same outcome as the first time. Every time she screamed, every second she panted, he could feel his chest getting tighter and tighter. He didn't like to see his daughter in pain and he didn't like to feel helpless but in that situation, in that room, he wasn't swallowed up by the feelings. In pained misery, he watched on whilst attempting to wake her up.

" Daddy... Stay away from him... please". John, spotting the moisture in Sherlock's eyes, walked over and began shaking her firmly but still remaining gentle. It wasn't enough to hurt her or shock her system but just enough to get her mind's attention. Just enough to break through her nightmares. Just enough to wake her up.

A couple of seconds later, she bolted up with a sharp gasp, her hand gripping her chest tightly while tears streamed down her cheeks like two mighty rivers. Eyes wide in panic, they darted around the room blindly in an attempt to deduce her situation until the doctor flicked the switch. Muted light flooded the room completely, showing the couple just how scared and vulnerable their little girl looked. Usually ivory skin was pasty and clammy to the touch. Dark circles outlined her eyes, acting as tell tale signs of a restless night's sleep. Startled blue eyes popped out of the bruise like marks, standing in stark contrast against the black bags, and settled to stare at them both with a mixture of emotions.

' I find her at the hospital because her mum had beaten her half to death then just left her, she tells me she really doesn't care. She asks me to help her find her father who works for the police, they meet and she doesn't show much emotion. She has a nightmare and now she's crying her eyes out. Strange.' John thought as he watched their little girl throw herself into Sherlock's arms who, unlike the first time she did this, was prepared and caught her quickly.

Lily, feeling safe and warm in her daddy's arm, snuggled deeper into his embrace before burying her head into his chest so she could smell his dressing gown. To her, his scent was very comforting. The strange mixture of coffee, old cigarette smoke from before he quit and older books like those in a library worked well together.

Holmes slowly moved her closer to his body, cradling her in his arms despite her size, while he moved his hand in soothing circles on her back like Watson had instructed the first time she went to him for a hug.

" shhh, now tell me what's got you so worked up" he demanded softly, his voice deep and calming. That, paired with his strong and steady heart beat beneath her ear, helped her breathing even out until it was back to it's normal rhythm.

" You... you got shot.. but b-before.. you just stood there and accepted it. L-Like you didn't care t-that they were g-going to take you away f-from me and dad" She sniffled, tears filling her eyes again. She gripped the lapels of his gown between her small fists while she explained the root of her fear to them both.

' She dreamt that I got shot? I guess I shouldn't be surprised really. I have been shot once or twice in the past'. The detective thought darkly, moving his left shoulder slightly but he quickly caught himself and held her a little tighter instead.

John looked at them both with a small smile. Lily curled up in Sherlock's arms, him stroking her back gently. It was amazing how far his sociopathic partner had come since she first came to live with them.

However, it was obvious that she wouldn't be sleeping without him, judging by the grip she had on him, so he stood and threw a look over the top of her chocolatey curls. The other, realising what he meant in an instant, carefully untangled himself from the young girl whom seemed to suddenly realise their position with embarrassment.

" Come on little one. You will come and sleep with us tonight". Holmes said softly, taking hold of her hand but she shook her head quickly, her cheeks flooding with blood which only made her more adorable in John's eyes.

" I'm 13 daddy. I don't need to sleep with you and dad like a little baby because I had a nightmare." she claimed, her bottom lip popping out slightly in a pout.

' She pouts just like Sherlock... and Mycroft now I come to think of it. Is it genetic?'

' She claims that she is no longer a baby yet she still insists on calling me daddy... surprisingly enough, I do find myself not caring'.

Both of them, knowing exactly what she was up to, shook their heads and dragged her out of her room and into theirs that resided below hers.

Like Sherlock, she hated to show the slightest bit of weakness and to her, that's what some emotions were like fear or sadness. Of course, being the daughter of a sociopath, meant she had developed some sociopathic tendencies but medically, she was completely capable to develop and experience emotions. But, since her daddy didn't show when he was scared or upset, she didn't want to either.

Because of that, the last 7 years she had spent with them had been rather quiet when they thought she would be loud. She didn't cry very often or show when she was sad. Good as that was for Sherlock who didn't understand emotions completely, John knew that she was bottling them up which meant that they would come out one way or another. When she was 11, she had let it out on an unsuspecting 15 year old boy at school who said her parents were a pair of ' disgusting queers that should have been shot on sight'. Of course, she couldn't be punished for defending her parents though she did receive a stern talking to about physical violence.

" I know that you didn't meant to hurt him that much flower but you shouldn't have hit him, should you? You should have walked away."

" b-but dad... he called you mean names"

" What John's trying to say, little one, is that there was no need to hurt him that much. If you had hit him between his jaw and chin, he would have been knocked out"

" Sherlock! You can't tell her that!"

" Why not? I thought that's what you were trying to tell her."

Surprisingly, the room itself wasn't that different to hers except instead of all their walls being covered in purple flowery wallpaper, theirs had two walls painted a calming cream colour.

' Dad's idea no doubt. Daddy loves purple so it definitely wasn't him'. She thought with a small nod before moving on to admire some of the old books piled on her daddy's bedside table. They ranged from Shakespeare, to Darwin but on the top, she recognised her copy of ' Alice in Wonderland'.

' He always said that it was a children's book. ha. Shows him'.

" Enjoying the book daddy?" she asked innocently, setting comfortable between her parent's. She could tell that he hadn't finished the book as he had dog-eared one of the corners near the middle which was a very bad habit of his. Personally, Lily preferred to use a bookmark because then it didn't leave a crease but she never expected him too. He enjoyed knowing exactly where he left off because apparently " bookmarks can easily fall out of the pages when you move the book". He did have a point there.

The detective followed her line of vision and quickly spotted the battered book which was her favourite. When she first came, all she had was that book, a back pack filled with clothes and a note telling Sherlock that her mother couldn't cope with a freak like her any more. He had taken her in, after multiple paternity tests requested by both him and the little girl. John took to her straight away, enjoying the fact that she wouldn't mind his constant affection though it did annoy her occasional.

However, he found it rather odd that she wouldn't leave the book alone. Wherever she went, it would be tucked under her arm or in her backpack. Watson, after reading a few websites, came to the conclusion that it was some kind of security object. Some children have blankets, some teddy bears and maybe the advanced 6 year old had that tattered book.

When he asked, he had received his answer. Turns out that it was the first book she ever read alone and Lily had grown to identify with the Mad Hatter. Over time, she developed a love of the book in order to escape all reality of the situation she was forced into. Of course, it's difficult for a child to accept the fact that her mother hated her even though Lily had. She had grown up beaten and broken until she was thrown out.

John couldn't see how a mother could hate her child for something she had no control over. The little girl saw things like her father and could join up dots that no one else could see. They were geniuses. Yes, it could get annoying but the doctor loved both his husband and his daughter because of their eccentric way of doing things and unusual behaviour. With them, nothing was boring so in a way, he was glad she was thrown out. Her lose was his gain. Too bad for her.

" Yes I am little one. I feel that I must apologise for all of my earlier thought on the book. Lewis Carol was a very imaginative man though I fear he might have been slightly mad himself". She looked up, huge sparkling blue eyes connecting with his instantly. At that moment, something warm began to blossom inside Sherlock's chest. The feeling itself was similar to the tingling he got whenever John whispered those three words but still different.

' Love. Not passionate like what I feel for John. Platonic. She's apart of me. My little girl. Mine and John's little girl'.

" He was daddy. Nuts, bonkers and completely off of his rocker but you know what... all of the best people are! I mean, look at you and dad. Everyone says that you're mad because you like to solve crimes and dad's mad because he decided to marry you but it doesn't matter. You're the best at what you do. People from all over the world seek your sharp eyes and also seek dad's ability to keep you under control. Just like everyone in Underland going to the Hatter to make a beautiful hat" Lily explained, moving to get a little more comfortable between them. Watson smiled gently at her but couldn't shake the fact that even though she was picked on without mercy by children and parents at school for being 'mad', she didn't include herself in her explanation.

" and you, flower, will become the next great consultant detective". He amended, looking down at her. The young brunette beamed brightly at his words though the reasoning was obvious. Ever since she found out what her father did, she wanted to follow in his footsteps so to speak.

" Can I daddy? Pretty please with nicotine on top?" She pleaded, looking to her right. Sherlock couldn't help but crack a smile at her change of words, knowing sugar wouldn't persuade him though he didn't need it. He had decided he would help her develop her powers of observation the moment he saw her try to read him. Props where props are due, she only got one fact wrong. Him and John weren't married at the time. That came a year after.

" Of course you can. Who knows? I might even take you with us on a case sometime in the future. You could be our little helper". The doctor, hearing this, looked over at his husband , a look of worry taking over his features.

" Nothing that could be dangerous though, right?"

" Of course not John. I'm not going to put our daughter in harms way. no. I'll accept a simple one like missing persons for her first official case. Nothing too complex and then we will see about her advancement, depending on the outcome of the case.". Satisfied that he wasn't going to get their little girl killed by some psychotic mass murdering junkie, he allowed himself to fall asleep to the soft sounds of his child and his love speaking softly to each other about the case that was sure to come.


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