As always John climbed up the stairs to 221B not knowing what to expect. Sherlock had run out the door that morning muttering about an arsonist and nuns. John's offer to help had been brushed aside so John had spent most of the day following up with patients and wishing his phone light up to show he had a text.
It didn't, not even to remind John of Lestrade's incompetence or demand takeout for dinner. John had even texted Sherlock a few times with no answer except one to tell John to stop bothering him. The itch on the back of John's neck only got worse when he reached the doorway to find an overjoyed Mrs. Hudson slipping out and beginning the climb down.
"Oh John, congratulations!" In her enthusiasm the older woman had to be grabbed by John to keep from teetering over the edge and he was caught in a surprisingly tight hug. "I'm so happy for the both of you. You don't mind if I come up everyday do you? Of course not, I'm and old woman with an empty nest; no one can watch the flat better. Now you should talk to Sherlock about his experiments. I've always worried about the windows blowing out, walls crumbling and doors being blown off their hinges worse than usual. But now," Mrs. Hudson continued on a similarly insane lecture even as she began stepping down the stairs two at a time. When she reached the bottom Mrs. Hudson gave John and enthusiastic wave, "Tell me if Sherlock changes his mind about the party."
She was gone before John could even start to ask what was going on, leaving him to cautiously open the door to their flat. If Mrs. Hudson was so happy nothing awful could have happened.
The living room reveled nothing to terrible besides a mess of blankets on the couch. There was also a steady banging noise coming from the kitchen that wasn't cause for concern. John breathed a sigh of relief and had just hung up his jacket when Sherlock yelled at him from the kitchen to join him. John started picking up the living room first, yelling back, "Mrs. Hudson was happy. What did you tell her?"
"That's she's allowed to visit daily. Why are you wasting your time with blankets?" The banging noise stopped for a few seconds then continued irregularly.
"You're not going to do it and I'd like to sit in front of the telly without my quilt thrown over it." The noise suddenly became much louder and annoying. "That isn't going to get me in the kitchen Sherlock."
Except it did, John dropped the hastily folded blankets on the floor and headed for the kitchen, noting that the sliding door was shut for once, intent on saving himself from a headache. He got two steps past the entryway before stopping.
There was a child in their kitchen. A brown haired, dark skinned girl about two sitting on a counter banging a spoon against a pot while Sherlock stood on the other side of the kitchen rummaging through the fridge. When she saw John the girl stopped for a moment to study him staring in shock and then resumed making her noise with the occasional babbling.
"Sherlock. Why is an infant in our flat?" John was already dreading some experiment or something worse. What was he going to tell Lestrade? 'Sorry, please don't get around to throwing Sherlock in prison this time because compared to all the other lawbreaking kidnapping a child can't be that bad.' Or would John have to call Mycroft? Actually, John was surprised the older Holmes wasn't already gliding through the doorway with the girl's parents.
While John was contemplating what a deathtrap their flat had suddenly turned into Sherlock was completely calm as he grabbed a pear and walked to the girl. Taking the pot and spoon to shove in a random cupboard he gave her the pear. He was actually smiling as the child gripped the fruit in both hands, hit herself in the nose a few times before properly feeding herself. "John, this is my daughter."
It took John nearly a minute to process that. Sherlock had made it quite clear he was asexual and uninterested in children which was fine with a previously one hundred percent heterosexual John. This brought some of the obvious questions, starting with the most important ones. "How old is she Sherlock? Where's the mother?" Their relationship may be unconventional but John did not expect Sherlock to go off fathering a child!
Sherlock looked at him in exasperation, "She's eighteen months and nine days. No idea where any biological connections are and I don't care in the least."
"That isn't going to get you very far Sherlock," John sat at the table, grateful that after months of heckling Sherlock kept it mostly free from his clutter. "Where did you get her and for God's sake Sherlock what is going on?" The moment's hesitance in Sherlock confirmed what John had suspected; he had not stopped to think about John asking these questions. "Sherlock we've talked about this. Whatever seems obvious to you might not be clear as day for me."
If anything what John said seemed to disturb rather than comfort Sherlock, "I got her from the orphanage of course. I saved them from an arsonist, it was the least the Mother Superior could do." Then leaning against the counter Sherlock put a hand on the child's head and looked slightly less sure of himself. "I saw her and knew. She's mine. Isn't it obvious?"
John returned his full attention to the girl. Satisfied with how much she had eaten the girl was squishing the pear in her hands and not paying an ounce of attention to anything else. "What's her name?"
"Nothing yet, nuns called her something so terrible I deleted it immediately."
That was a start, nothing made sense still but John kept asking. "We can't just call her Girl, Sherlock. And how legal is this? Where will she sleep?"
John learned paperwork would be sent next week. Girl (as she would be called until Sherlock found a proper name) of course would stay in the spare bedroom since John had moved into Sherlock's. Sherlock was also happy to tell him of Girl's apparent genius.
He was skeptical of that last bit as Girl dropped the pear in her lap and happily smeared pear juice on her face. "Did you consider this might be something we talk about? Or that I might not even want any children?"
"Nonsense. You like children." That didn't mean John wanted children and he suspected Sherlock phrased it that way on purpose. In truth John wasn't sure, he had been fine with dating Sherlock meaning it wasn't going to happen. Then Sherlock brought home a toddler and dumped everything on its side.
"Couldn't you have at least asked me first?"
Sherlock actually had the gall to look exasperated, "No John because I didn't have the time to waste. Girl is my daughter and I brought her home." To prove his point Sherlock tossed the pear over his shoulder near the sink and picked Girl up. "I doubt the abundantly obvious can be made any clearer but we can always try."
John didn't have the chance to protest before a sticky toddler was dropped in his lap. A very unhappy one based on the frowning and immediate attempts to grab Sherlock as he was backing away. "Nooooooooooooo no no no no."
"I'm going to get your room ready. Be patient with John. Understood?" Girl was so obviously displeased with John's existence they were both surprised when Sherlock left.
John watched as she stared at the entryway a moment, and then turned her full attention towards him. He took it as an opportunity to study her, seeing dark brown hair and light brown eyes on a dark-skinned little girl dressed in a plain white dress. Despite being covered in pear juice Girl looked healthy enough and certainly quite cute. Overall he couldn't see the connection between her and Sherlock.
Whatever observations she had made must have left Girl unsatisfied with John because she began climbing down regardless of the hard floor. With little choice John grabbed her and with no idea what to do stood up. Noticing she was much higher up Girl ceased struggling and pressed her pear covered self against John's chest, "Bleh."
"Right," was John really having difficulty speaking to a toddler? Of course he was, the only infant John had ever interacted with had been his sister and even then they had given each other a wide berth. "Let's get you cleaned up then." John carried Girl near the sink and set her down to fetch a rag and got it wet. First he cleaned his hands then looked down to see her looking impatient and holding her hands up. Maybe there was a bit of Sherlock in Girl.
Curious to see what would happen John gave her the damp rag. Girl mimicked what John had done then smeared it across her face a few times before dropping it and starting to walk. John followed as she circled the kitchen and went through the entryway to do the same in the living room. The door to the bathroom caught her attention except she was too short to reach the doorknob. Accepting of this Girl went back to the couch, climbed on and began jumping.
It was then that Sherlock arrived, sneaking up on John to hug him from behind. "She's brilliant isn't she?"
To be honest with himself John couldn't see anything that set her aside from other toddlers. But Sherlock obviously did and his attachment to her was extraordinary. Seeing only one course of action John sighed, "You know we'll have to go buy proper furniture tomorrow. And some clothing because she can't sleep in my old bed and wear the same dress forever."
"Of course. What do you think of Amelia?"
"What?"
"No, too many vowels. Josephine?" Sherlock let go of John in favor of sitting on the couch who quickly sat next to him. "Get over here and help me would you John." It was hardly a question and John was settling on the other side of Girl as Sherlock started asking her, "Josephine?" She gave no visible reaction aside from minor confusion.
This went on for several names, some suggested by John, until Girl became fascinated by one of Sherlock's scarves draped over the couch and they gave up. John ordered take-out making sure to ask for something a young toddler could eat while Sherlock tied the scarf in several loose knots and returned it to Girl for exploration. The food soon arrived with free noodles and congratulations for two of their best customers. Then it was brightly colored telly until Girl was put to bed in her pants. The last part of the night was repeated several times as she climbed out of bed and found them before being put back to bed again.
By the times she was actually asleep John was exhausted and Sherlock was tinkering with his phone. "I'm going to bed Sherlock."
"Busy. I'll join you later."
"I was going to say we're going to need to wake up early if we're going shopping tomorrow and that means sleep for me." Not to mention there was a bit too much on John's mind to guarantee that it wouldn't take him hours to fall asleep.
Sherlock's response was slow and still half focused on his phone, "I'll start the laundry then so Girl has something to wear." He tore his gaze away just long enough to look John in the eyes, "Goodnight John."
The door to their bedroom didn't get shut which turned out to be a minor miracle when Girl found them so she could loudly announce, "Potty!" John could only thank God Girl was already trained to alert her caregivers and that he could get her to the loo in time. Then it was general cleanliness while making sure Girl didn't eat soap. She did seem fascinated with John's razor and watching him shave, "Up!"
"You can't touch this, its sharp." Girl didn't understand the words but she knew John's tone.
"Up?" Her voice wavered as if any chance of her ever feeling joy depended on what John would say next. It was somewhat frightening.
"No," John knew she was familiar with that word and made sure his expression was very firm. "It's dangerous." He was not expecting Girl to start crying, leaving him to nick himself as he finished shaving and shoved the razor away so he could pick her up. "Sherlock? Are you awake yet?"
Either unsatisfied or having forgotten what upset her in the first place Girl kept crying a few moments and stopped just as suddenly. John decided it was time for Sherlock to do some of the parenting.
Stepping into the living room he nearly ran into Sherlock holding the white dress. "I'll bath her while you make breakfast." Girl was exchanged leaving John to go rummage through the fridge.
Surprisingly he found a non-expired or tampered with carton of eggs to scramble. Hearing the water running followed by loud splashing John tried not to worry, "Everything alright Sherlock?"
"Fine John. Put some salt in, the only thing worse than eggs are bland eggs." Dutifully John seasoned the eggs and poked them a bit with the spatula. Girl made several exited yells accompanied by more splashing.
The eggs cooked quickly and John had toast and coffee on the table when a freshly scrubbed Girl toddled in with a perfectly dry Sherlock. "We'll have to remember a sippy cup for her."
"Right, lack of fine motor skills. Sit down John I can just get her water so we don't have to re-clean her." John did, after lifting Girl on a chair piled with several of Sherlock's books and giving her a large spoon.
Breakfast was interesting. Girl was determined to use the spoon even on her toast. The small cup of water proved difficult to lift with both hands but some of it did end up being drank. Mostly she watched John and Sherlock eat, interrupting their conversation with random vowels and consonants mashed together.
It felt oddly normal. Mundane to the point where it was baffling and John had to remind himself to ask Sherlock something very important, "Does Mycroft know you've decided we should be parents?"
Sherlock flicked his fork dismissively which set Girl into a giggling fit, "I'm surprised he hasn't shoved himself though the door already. Must be away somewhere."
"Your mother?"
"That's for brother Mycroft to deal with." Done picking at his food Sherlock stood up and grabbed Girl, "Time to wash our hands while John does the dishes."
"Fine, but you're going to have to someday." John did clean up and took the opportunity to get dressed. That left calling Barts and begging for the day off. "Sherlock! Where's my phone, I have to call work." He could have sworn he left it on the dresser.
Sherlock's voice called back from the living room, "Already done. You have the week off and normal half-hearted social niceties. I also spoke with Mrs. Hudson; if we move the old furniture to 221 C we won't have to find a place to throw it out." John stepped out of the bedroom to find Sherlock sitting on the sofa with Girl trying to carefully move a brush through her very curly, thick hair. "Why is there so much hair? Mrs. Hudson!"
John had to assume Mrs. Hudson was hovering near the stairwell given how quickly she was pushing in the front door. "If it isn't the new fathers. Or is it father and dad? I never keep these things straight."
"Daddy and Da can be managed," well that was news to John. Not that it didn't make sense; it would be awkward to have his daughter calling him John.
Mrs. Hudson was even more delighted, "Lovely, are you two still looking for a name? Cynthia would be lovely. Or Julia, Juliana, Juliet…"
"No. Now would you do something about this?" Sherlock pointed to the tangled mess of hair with the brush.
"Of course Dear, pay attention and I'll show you boys what to do with a little girl's hair. Just let me fetch a few things," Mrs. Hudson then left with a wave.
Sherlock threw the brush aside, "We must stop at the hairdressers. Something short, very short. Sit down John it's going to be a while."
When he sat down Sherlock picked up Girl and moved her to face John. "Girl, this is Da."
"Da?"
"Yes. I'm Daddy." By the time Mrs. Hudson returned with several hair ties Girl was practicing pointing at Sherlock and John and naming them. Sherlock looked at John and immediately rolled his eyes, "Get a hold of yourself, it's just a name."
"Be quiet Sherlock. Thank you for helping us Mrs. Hudson." Without further prompting the woman grabbed Girl to sit in her lap in the armchair and began delicately brushing her wet hair.
"You didn't brush it before the bath did you?" It was fascinating to see how quickly Mrs. Hudson was able to tame Girl's hair. "No bother, just have to be careful don't we love? I'm thinking a couple of ponytails for such a pretty girl."
It barely took anytime for Girl's hair to be neatly combed and in two bunches on either side of her head that Girl felt hesitantly. Exited she pushed herself off the chair and stood in front of Sherlock and John, "Look!"
"Lovely. Thank you Mrs. Hudson, we're going shopping now." John followed Mrs. Hudson to the door while Sherlock helped Girl into her shoes. "Our flats a bit of a deathtrap for a child."
"That it is. Are you two thinking about having a little get-together? Nothing like a party, just a bit of a welcome celebration."
"No," Sherlock cut in, "Come on, the stores already been open an hour." Mrs. Hudson couldn't bring up the subject again as Sherlock strode downstairs with Girl in his arms and John following.
They used the taxi ride over to reject a few dozen more names, nearly getting into a row over Christine and Anna before being dropped off somewhere in Notting Hill. Sherlock was familiar with the area leaving barely anytime for John to follow with Girl while he strode into a neatly organized and modern (bare and white) store. All confidence Sherlock went to a shelf and began inspecting. John decided to let go of Girl, who immediately wandered off, and followed suit just as a saleswoman crept from nowhere to scare him half to death. "Can I help you?"
"We need everything," Sherlock replied.
Unruffled the woman kept smiling, "Expecting?"
"Mine!" Girl walked past a rack and into sight dragging a fuzzy yellow thing to Sherlock. "Mine." Satisfied that Sherlock had acknowledged her property Girl spotted something else, dragging the yellow thing behind her and continuing to yell.
"More like surprised," John offered.
It was as if she could smell the credit cards in Sherlock's wallet. "Let me show you our cribs."
They ended up with a scattering of things, including what turned out to be a yellow coat with a lion's tail and mane along the hood with button eyes Girl insisted on wearing despite the summer sun. The next store met more of Sherlock's requirements for clothes that barely fit in the taxi on the way home. Aside from a few necessities in the trunk the rest of the furniture would be delivered the next day.
Loaded down with bags while everything else waited in the lobby John assumed Sherlock would keep track of Girl and climbed up the stairs. Nudging the door open he didn't notice Sherlock stopping behind him until John dropped the bags on the sofa and looked for where Girl had wandered to.
Mycroft. Sitting on their recliner looking quite exasperated.
Author's Notes: It's been a while since I posted something hasn't it? I had an oral exam in Spanish so I felt that instead of writing it would be best if I studied instead. That being said I've had the idea of Sherlock suddenly becoming strongly attached to a child and it's quite nice to dip my toes in the fandom. Next chapter is mostly done, just needs typed up on my laptop so it shouldn't be to long. BTW if you want to see the lion coat The Twin found and insisted be in this fic follow delete the spaces and follow the link: http:/ pinterest. com/pin/ 96686723219839696/