*I do not own the name nor any part of The Ring nor the BBC show Sherlock.

I took a deep breath as stood in front of the door. I was nervous to go see the famous detective. Not for the fact of who he is, but I feared he would hear my story and tell me to leave. I was tempted to turn and leave, but I noticed a man looking through the window. From the papers, this was not Sherlock Holmes, so I guessed it was Doctor Watson. I gave out a quick breath before knocking on the door. I couldn't turn away now that they knew I was hesitant by the door.

An older lady opened the door, offering me a sweet smile. "Hello dear," she greeted. "Are you here for the boys?"

I nodded. "Yes ma'am."

Her smile widened as she stepped aside so I could enter the house. "They are upstairs, go right on up. Second floor, not third."

"Thank you," I told her and headed upstairs. Doctor Watson had moved from the window to a red chair. A little girl, who was I suppose no more than four, leaned on his legs in front of the chair. She was holding a little doll, one with button eyes. I always found those dolls to be creepy, but if the girl liked it, then I couldn't argue. "Sorry to intrude," I said as I finally looked back to Doctor Watson.

"Oh, no need," he told me. "Sherlock should be out in a minute." He gestured to a chair that stood in front of his, and I guessed Sherlock's, chair. "Please sit."

I gave him a quick smile, before sitting down. The little girl, her hair in pigtails, smiled at me. "Hello!" she greeted.

I smiled at her. "Hello. What's your name?"

"Rosie," she told me, holding out the 'o' in her name longer than normal. "This Daddy!" she said, patting Doctor Watson's knee. "Shwerwock in there." She pointed to the back room. "He's sleepy."

"He was sleeping," Doctor Watson, I believe his first name was John, but the papers always just refer to him as Doctor Watson, told me. "He's getting dressed."

I looked to the clock to see it was only just past six. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "I didn't think I was coming at a late hour."

"Oh, don't be. He's normally up at this time, but Rosie kept him up all night." He reassured. Rosie giggle, and climbed into her father's lap.

"And what of her mother?" I asked. "Is she at work, or just out?"

Doctor Watson frowned, taking in a breath before letting it out. "No, her mother is dead."

I frowned at this. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have intruded."

"Don't be," he said. "It was an honest question. It's just a fact that we had to settle with."

I was about to speak when Mr. Holmes came in, button his dress jacket. He didn't say anything, and sat down in the chair across from Doctor Watson's. He looked at me as if expecting me to speak. "Well?" he asked.

"Oh, sorry. Normally people say hello first," I said.

"Yes well, I have better things I could be doing so please try to be quick and not boring," He spoke quickly, faster than the average person.

Rosie frowned, getting off her father's lap. She went over to Mr. Holmes and slapped his leg. "Shwerwock that rude!" She told him. "Be nithe!"

"I said please," Sherlock spoke.

"Not in nithe way!" She huffed, crossing her little arms. "Now tart ober!"

"Fine," Sherlock said, straightening his coat before continuing. "Hello, I'm Sherlock Holmes and this is Doctor John Watson. You've probably met Rosie Watson by now, so please tell us your problem."

I did my best to suppress my laughter at the fact that this man just took orders from a four-year-old, but at least he was being more considerate. "Yes," I said and pulled out a file from my bag. "I've been getting threatening emails, text, calls, and letters for the past week. I was hoping you could find out who and possibly stop them. I know you will be able to find this person much faster than the police, so that is why I went to you." I pulled out some letters. "These are the letters."

I was nervous because as I handed Mr. Holmes these letters, he looked to be bored, but his face straightened and his brows creased as he looked to one of the letters. "John, look at this." Sherlock turned the letter around and pointed to the letters I.O.U that was doodled in the corner of the page.

"He's dead, and you stopped his- "John made a gesture with his hand, "empire a long time ago. And that whole bloody thing with your sister is long past too."

"Apparently it has resurfaced. I will take your case. I suggest you stay here with us until we know any further details. John will take you back to your flat to grab a few things." As Sherlock said all this, he was putting on his coat and scarf. "I'll be at the lab." He stuffed my file and the letters in his coat and quickly left.

"Well, I guess you are staying with us." John said. "I guess we should go get your things."

"Wait, he was serious?" I asked.

"He's Sherlock, he's always serious."

.

As I unlocked my flat, my German Shepard Rocky jumped on me as a greeting. "Hello boy," I greeted back, rubbing the dogs head. "I have a dog; will that be a problem?" I asked John. "I'm not leaving him here. He's well trained and very sweet."

"Sherlock loves dogs even though he won't admit it, so I don't see a problem with it," he told me.

"Thank you," I said and headed to my room to grab a week worth of clothes and my essentials. When I came back, Rocky was hovering by John's feet as he pets his head. "Well good to know that he likes you," I said with a smile.

John looked back to me. "Does he not like everyone?"

"Anyone he finds threatening to me he doesn't, but it seems he approves of you."

John offered me a charmed smile. "Rosie loves dogs, though I don't think she has met on bigger than her."

I giggled as I looked to my large dog. "I think he'll know to be gentle with her."

John knelt in front of Rocky, and the dog took this to his advantage to lick John's face. I giggled again and went to get Rocky's things before heading back to Baker Street with John.

.

"I suppose you can stay in my room upstairs because I doubt Sherlock will be polite enough to offer you his bed," John told me. "Rosie and I can stay in here." He explained all this after he grabbed Rosie from Ms. Hudson, and now we sat in the common room.

Though, I frowned at his suggestion. "No, I can stay in here… From what you said, Rosie doesn't have her own bedroom, and I do not wish to kick her out of her bed, let alone you."

"It's fine. I really don't mind. It would bother me that we let you sleep on the couch when Sherlock is the one that suggested, more like ordered, you to stay here. And we are working on building Rosie a room upstairs, it's just not finished yet."

"But- "I started to argue, but John held his hand up to stop me.

"It's fine," he told me. "Rosie will probably sleep with Sherlock anyway, and that couch is plenty comfortable enough for me. I used to sleep on a cot in Afghanistan, so I think I can sleep on a comfortable couch."

I frowned my brows, not in anger but in slight confusion. "Afghanistan?" I asked.

"I'm a retired Army Doctor who went to Afghanistan and got shot so they sent me home," he answered as if it were nothing. He watched his daughter play with Rocky on the floor, and didn't even seemed bothered by the fact that he had seen war.

"Normally people find that more dramatic than what you just led on."

John snorted. "Not when you live with Sherlock Holmes."

"Meaning?" I further asked.

"Well," John started. "I've almost got shot again, but this time it would have killed me. I've almost been burned alive, and I've been chained to the bottom of a well, while siting in bone infested water."

My mouth was open as I just stared at him. "Burned alive?" I finally managed.

"Yep," he said, popping the 'p'.

"And…" I had to shake my head to fully process everything. "Chained to the bottom of a well? So, basically put you down there to starve to death?"

John nodded. "Basically, yes."

"Like Samara in The Ring movies?"

John laughed at my statement. "To be honest, those movies were going through my mind as I stood in the water."

"Further question, and I probably should have lead with this, but why do you still live with him?"

"I've asked myself that question a few times as well, but he's my best friend so we sort of forgive and forget."

I rose an eyebrow but chose not to question more. It was his business, not mine. I decided then to ask about my case. "Why did you two freak out by the letters I.O.U on my letter?"

"Moriarty," he simply stated. "He made trouble for Sherlock a few years back, and that is one of his trademarks."

I was about to speak when Rosie shouted out. "Daddy, look!" She spoke with pure joy and a big smile as she showed her father her drawing. "Dat's you, dat's me, and, and dat's Shwerwock, and dat's aunt Molly! and Nanny!" She pointed to each of the small stick figures. She looked at me and smiled. "Oh!" She quickly grabbed her crayon and drew a girl stick figure next to the one that she said was John. "Dat's you!" she told me.

"Oh," I smiled at her. "Thank you, sweetie, but I'm not a part of your family."

Rosie smiled at me. She looked to her father and then back at me. "Fo now you are," she said. "What your name?" she further asked.

It just occurred to me that little Rosie doesn't know my name. Mr. Holmes and John do because of the letter and file I gave them, but the little girl doesn't. I smiled to her. "Carolyn Adams," I told her.

"Oh," she said still smiling at me. "My name is Rosie Watson."

I giggled. "I know,"

"Daddy name is John Watson," she further told me. "And Uncle Shwerwock is Shwerwock Homes."

"Holmes baby, not Homes." John corrected.

"Holmes," Rosie corrected. "And, and Aunt Molly's name is Molly Hooper. But I want her to be Molly Holmes soon. I want Uncle Shwerwock to popose to her."

I giggled at the girl's rant. "You want Sherlock to propose to Molly? Who is your Aunt Molly? And how is she your aunt?"

"Molly is her godmother, and Sherlock is her godfather. So, she calls them her aunt and uncle," John explained. "And Nanny is Ms. Hudson."

Sherlock then walked through the door, along with a brown headed woman whom was much shorter than him. "AUNT MOLLY!" Rosie screamed, running to her and hugging around her legs.

I'd have to guess that was Molly. She smiled to me before speaking. "Oh, John did you find a girl?" she asked.

"Molly don't be ridiculous, she's a client who has to stay with us." Sherlock spoke.

Rosie huffed, smacking Sherlock's knee. "Meanie!" she said, sticking her tongue out at him, but soon laughed. "Carolyn can be Daddy's gwirlfwiend!"

"But she's not," John quickly said. "Rosie, we just met Carolyn."

Rosie smiled at me. "I know." She then turned to Sherlock, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the drawing she did earlier. "Uncle Shwerwock, look!"

Sherlock smiled to her, kissing her cheek. "Very nice Rose." He then looked to Rocky, who was being good and sitting next to me on the floor. "I'm guessing the dog will be staying with you in John's room," he said.

"Sherlock, you love dogs, don't act as if you actually care. He's house trained and when we aren't looking you will play with Rocky." John said. "But yes, he is."

Molly cleared her throat and stuck her hand out to me. "Molly Hooper, pleasure to meet you." She offered me a charmed smiled.

"Carolyn Adams," I said. "Rosie mentioned you."

By now, Rosie had Sherlock sit on the ground and she plopped herself in his lap. Rocky went over to him and started to lick his face. "Oh, sorry." I said with a giggle. "He must like you."

Sherlock petted the dog, and tried not to show that he was smiling. "It's fine," he finally said as the detective slowly started to play with Rocky.

"If you like dogs so much why not get one?" I asked.

"I don't necessarily like dogs," he tried to defend.

"Yes, you do," both John and Molly spoke.

I giggled at the group and smiled. They all seemed like a lively, loving bunch. "Rosie, it's bed time though. You get to sleep with Uncle Sherlock tonight."

Rosie smiled. "Okay Daddy," she said as she got off Sherlock's lap. "Goodnight Miss Carolyn," She said and hugged me goodnight.

I smiled to her. "Goodnight dear," I said.

"Goodnight Aunt Molly!" She said, hugging her around her legs. "I wuv you!"

"I love you too my darling, goodnight." Molly said, leaning down and kissing the girl goodnight.

"Goodnight Daddy!" She said, running to her father, giving him a big hug. "I love you… THIS MUCH!" She said, putting her arms out wide.

"I love you this much too," John copied her action.

Rosie giggled. "That a lot!" She said, kissing her father.

"Goodnight sweetheart," he said.

Rosie ran to Sherlock, giving him a big hug. "I love you Shwerwock," she said.

Sherlock smiled to the little girl. "I love you too angel." He told her.

"Why you call me angel?" She asked.

Sherlock kissed her cheek. "Because your proof that angels must exist."

Rosie giggled, giving him another kiss. "Goodnight Shwerwock." She gave him one last kiss before running to what I assumed was Sherlock's room.

"I'm going to bed too, goodnight everyone." Molly said, putting down her purse and leaving also to Sherlock's room.

"Let me show you upstairs," John said getting up.

I smiled to him. "Yes, thank you." Rocky followed me as I got up. "Goodnight Mr. Holmes. Thank you for helping me."

Sherlock nodded and gave a short, quick smile. I followed John upstairs to a small room with two separate single beds, one for an adult and one for a child. Obviously, the child's bed was for Rosie, and the 'R' over the bed proved that. She had several teddy bears and other stuffed animals on her purple bed spread. John's bed, on the other hand, was simple with a single grey blanket over white sheets.

"I would have given fresh sheets if I would have known," John told me.

"Oh, it's fine," I smiled to him. "I doubt you have the plague," I joked.

John gave a short laugh before continuing. "There's a small half bath, sorry you'll have to share the shower with us, but at least you'll have your own vanity. There is the construction work of building Rosie's bedroom next store, so I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

I smiled to him. "Thank you, goodnight John."

He nodded. "Goodnight Carolyn." He left without another word, closing the door behind him. I changed into sleep clothes and laid in John's neatly made bed. You could tell he was a military man in how well he kept his bed up. It was made perfectly and tight, just as Rosie's was. Rocky laid on the floor next to me, licking my face goodnight.