I do not own the show Sherlock. I appreciate reviews, and some criticism but no flames please! I hope you like the story.

July 24, Wednesday

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson sat in the living room of their flat. Sherlock sat in the arm chair in deep thought, with his fingertips pressed together. John went through the mail, sorting his and Sherlock's.

He tried to hand Sherlock his mail, but Sherlock didn't seem to notice, as he was still staring at nothing.

"Sherlock, your mail," John said. He wasn't impatient, because he was used to Sherlock acting this way, but it still bothered him. "Sherlock?"

"I've lost my concentration," Sherlock said, putting his hands down and blinking a few times. He sighed, and took the mail from John. He looked through it, but not very thoroughly. He stopped suddenly, when he noticed an actual letter. He ripped the top, and pulled out a paper and read it.

Dear Mr. Holmes,

Mrs. and Mr. Weather were killed on July 20th, leaving behind your goddaughter, Charlotte Weather. As her godfather, she will be sent to your home in London on the 31st.

Sherlock didn't read anymore. He dropped the letter on the ground, and buried his face in his hands.

"What's wrong, Sherlock?" John asked peering at him.

"Why was I such an idiot?" Sherlock muttered behind his hands.

"Sorry?"

Sherlock looked up, looking paler then usual. "When I was fifteen, a good friend of my family had a daughter. I was asked to become her godfather, and I accepted. What was I thinking?"

"And, why is that bad?" John asked, trying to imagine Sherlock as a godfather.

"She's coming!" Sherlock said, in a high voice. "Her parents died, and she coming!"

John was surprised with Sherlock. He had never reacted this way, to anything.

"She's coming?" John repeated. "But- well... alright... Well, you are her godfather," he finally said.

"Yes, but she's at least thirteen now!" Sherlock said. "A teenager girl? Living here?"

"Sherlock, calm down," John said firmly. "We've got to think- where will she sleep?"

"No, no! I can't have her come here!"

"Well, she's coming,"

Sherlock put his fingertips together again, and shut his eyes, sinking into his chair again, apparently thinking.

John was thinking as well, surprised that anyone would ask to have Sherlock as a godfather.

"Perhaps... perhaps we could put a wall and a door halfway in your room-" Sherlock began, opening his eyes. "It's the biggest room, and, and..."

"Yes, that's a good idea," John said before Sherlock started panicking again. "We could hire someone to do that, it can't cost to much."

"No... It's just a wall and a door... Just a wall and a door..." Sherlock sighed, then stood up. "And furniture? Does she need furniture?"

"Of course she does- maybe just a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand will do," John said.

"Idiot," Sherlock said to himself. "Idiot, idiot, that's what I was,"

"It will be okay Sherlock, don't worry!" John said, but he was still worried himself.

A/N: This chapter is a short, and I'm sure, confusing, but the next chapters should be explained, and longer.