A/N: Ok, this is my first fic. English is not my mother language, so there might be mistakes; feel free to correct me.

Episode one: Suicide Angels (Part 1/8)

"Sherlock," John said as he entered the flat, a post card in a hand, supermarket bags in the other. "You've got a letter."

Sherlock was sitting on the couch, violin in hand. "Who's it from?" he asked.

"Err—I think you better read it yourself."

Sherlock extended his hand, and, with a sigh, John walked all the way to the couch and handed it to him. He then walked to the kitchen and put everything he bought away.

When John walked back to the living room, about ten minutes later, Sherlock was standing in front of the window, letter in hand. John noticed he was tense, something rather unusual. He walked over to him, touched his shoulder and said "Sherlock, is everything alright?"

Sherlock didn't turn around. With a shacking voice, he said "No, John. There's—there's a problem. I—"

"Sherlock, calm down. What is it?" John had never seen Sherlock act like this.

"I have a daughter, John."

This took John some time to process. "Wait," he said. "When? I—who's the mother? Sherlock, I didn't even know—"

"When I had to pretend my death, I would wander around. Once I went to a pub, and drank too much. I somehow ended with a woman. I never saw her again, nor heard of her until now. I suppose I told her my name giving my mind state of the moment."

"But you've been back for a year already!"

"The woman—Maureen—got sick." Sherlock continued as if John hadn't talk. "Will be dead soon, wants me to take care of the child."

"Your child. Tell me you'll take care of her, Sherlock."

"Of course. I—well, yes, she—"

"Sherlock! You got yourself into this mess, now take care of it!"

"She's my daughter, of course I will!"

"Can I read the letter?"

Sherlock handed it to him. The letter read:

Dear Mr. Holmes,

it is my duty to inform you that after our encounter, I gave birth to a baby girl. Her name is Sidney and is one year old. I decided not to look for you since I was capable enough of taking care of her myself.

I'm afraid I am not anymore, since I am ill and won't be alive for much longer. I have no other relative to ask for this enormous favor, and you are, after all, her father. I do not intend to ruin your life this way, but I have no one else to turn to.

I will let you two all my money, which should be more than enough for her whole education, maybe even for a flat once she's older.

I sent a picture of her with this letter. Her hair is dark like yours.

I will be at your house in about a week from now so you can meet her and she can get to know her new home.

Sorry for any inconvenient I may cause you.

Maureen Lawrence.

John looked up from the letter, and saw that Sherlock was looking at the picture. He wouldn't exactly call love what was in his eyes, but there wasn't such thing as coldness like there always was.

"May I see her?" John said.

Sherlock gave him the photograph. A baby girl with dark hair and green-brown eyes was smiling on it, and John smiled a little himself. Sidney was just like Sherlock in so many ways, but at the same time wasn't.

"What now?" asked John.

"We prepare a room for her. Buy things for her." Sherlock replied, thoughtful.

"Where could we possibly get a room for her?"

Sherlock looked at John, his eyes serious.

"No, I am not giving up my room!" he said.

"C'mon, John! Just for now, you could share your room with her."

"You say 'for now', but it will turn into a forever!"

Eventually, after a bet, John gave up his room.

One day they went shopping, and bought what they thought—according to the telly—a baby girl might need. When they went back to the flat, Mrs. Hudson saw them and asked what that was all about. Sherlock simply said "We're getting a baby."

Mrs. Hudson obviously got the idea wrong, and congratulate both Sherlock and John. He then had to explain the situation to her.

After a long discussion, John convinced Sherlock of telling Mycroft about the baby. But Sherlock, being the way he is, simply texted him:

I'm having a baby – SH

Oh, John and you have finally came out? – MH

Don't be silly. The baby is mine, and will be here in three days, just in case you wanted to meet her – SH

Who is crazy enough to have a child with you? – MH

Intoxicated people – SH

Please, don't say more. I shall come around in three days – MH

When the day finally came, Sherlock was nervous. John couldn't say he wasn't, but this was not a consequence of something he did.

The doorbell rang and Sherlock flew downstairs. When he opened the door, memories of the night he spent with Maureen came to him. He didn't delete them, he was ashamed to admit to himself, and didn't want to either.

"Hello," he said. "Please, come in."

Maureen was an average tall woman with long straight blonde hair and green eyes. She had a roundly face, small nose and pink cheeks with a few freckles, and between her short arms she had little Sidney, who was asleep. She smiled at Sherlock with a little thank you and headed upstairs, Sherlock after her.

They got there and she took a sit, baby still in her arms.

"Hello." Said John as he approached her from the kitchen. He came closer and shook her hand, then came closer to Sidney. "She's beautiful!" he whispered.

The three of them talked for a while, a little awkward at first, more fluently once they found things to talk about.

Eventually, Sidney woke up and looked at where she was. Seeing her mother sooth her fear of an unknown place. "Sidney, there's someone you should meet." Her mother said.

The baby girl took her hands to her face, then stretched her arms and looked at the man in front of her. She smiled, made a happy sound and tried to catch one of his fingers.

"She likes you!" Maureen said. "Wanna hold her?"

Sherlock nodded and took the girl in his arms. He was amazed of how perfectly her little body fit in his arms, and smiled a little. "Hello." He said to her.

"Try to say something else. Tell her who you are." Maureen indicated.

"Sidney, I'm your father." He said.

Sidney's deep eyes were fixed on Sherlock, as if studying him. He liked that very much. She was still smiling, and reached a hand to his face. He took it in his, and felt something inside him, something that he couldn't quite recognize. It was an old feeling, something he used to feel, but what was it?

"Do you wanna meet John, Sidney?" Sherlock asked.

They girl kept smiling and made more happy sounds. Sherlock sat next to his best friend, who came closer to the baby.

"Hey, Sidney." He said. "You are such a beautiful little girl!"

She laughed, then reached for John.

Maureen watch the scene with a little sadness, since she wouldn't be able to take part of such a beautiful and strange family.

The doorbell rang once again, and seeing Sherlock refused to go down, John immediately knew it was Mycroft. They both came upstairs into the flat a few moments later.

"Good afternoon." Mycroft said to Maureen. "I'm Sherlock's brother, Mycroft."

"Pleasure to meet you." Maureen said shaking his hand.

"Pleasure is mine." He then turned to his brother. "Sherlock, may I see her?"

The younger Holmes rolled his eyes and handle the baby to Mycroft, who took it very carefully.

"This reminds me of when you were a baby." He commented.

Sidney looked at Mycroft and made a face, then reached for his face and managed to grave his nose. Sherlock and John laughed as Maureen said "No, Sidney, let your uncle's nose go."

Sidney's hand let go of Mycroft's nose, she looked at him with shining eyes and laughed.

As the weeks went by, Maureen's condition got worse, until the point she had to go to a hospital and couldn't even get up of her bed. She eventually passed away, leaving Sidney to Sherlock and John.