Wow...this story is so old, so I had to add Tom into the mix...however with episode two, my prompt now completely works! Sorta... hope you like it!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sherlock or anything Sherlock related. If I did, Season three wouldn't have taken so long to come out!
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At the last minute, and as a last resort, John and Mary had given Sherlock the responsibility of babysitting Stephanie. Neither parent really wanted to leave her with Sherlock, but they were out of options. The only comfort they had was knowing Mrs. Hudson was downstairs to help if need be.
"Mary has already mixed the formula for her dinner bottle, but you'll need to mix one for supper. We've left all you need to know on this list," John handed Sherlock the list, a diaper bag, a strange rectangular box, and a suitcase containing Stephanie's clothes. "Mrs. Hudson is downstairs if you need anything, but she is a little under the weather, so only in an emergency. And... thanks, again, for doing this."
"I did not agree to do this. You showed up, and seeing as Mary's mother is gravely ill, based on the disheveled state she's in and the fact she keeps checking her phone for updates, I assumed you wouldn't leave me with a choice."
"No tact." John sighed. "Anyways, we should be back in a few days. I'll text you and let you know once we get there. Don't do anything stupid like bring Steph to a crime scene. She's barely 4 months, and she doesn't need that."
"I only take a case if it's a seven. I doubt any will present itself in the time you are gone, so there is no need for you to worry."
"Well, I think you're good to go. We'll be off then."
"John, don't I need to actually have Stephanie in order to 'babysit' her?"
"Right, sorry. I'm still a little nervous at leaving her with you. Here," John handed Stephanie over to Sherlock.
"Now I'll just... I'll leave. Bye Stephanie!"
Sherlock looked down at the baby he now held. What on earth was he supposed to do with it? He didn't know the first thing about taking care of another human being. How often did normal people need to eat? Hopefully all he needed to know would be on the list.
Two hours later found Sherlock sitting on the couch, awkwardly holding Stephanie while trying to feed her. She had been crying for at least 30 minutes now, but she didn't seem to take a significant amount of formula out of the bottle. Having read the list three times already in search of an answer, he did what he did best.
"Mrs. Hudson!" He waited, and yelled again, "Mrs. Hudson!" Exasperated at the lack of response he was receiving, he knew there was only one other option.
He then flipped out his phone, and proceeded to text Molly, his other option.
I need your assistance. Come to the flat immediately.
-SH
What do you need help with?
-M
It doesn't matter. The door should be unlocked. Come straight up.
-SH
Okay. I'll be right over.
-M
As it turned out, the door wasn't unlocked. Molly rang the doorbell a few times and waited. Sherlock quickly set Stephanie on the couch and bounded down the stairs to open the door. The faster Molly got here, the faster the detestable thing would stop crying. Really, why would anyone willingly put up with this?
"So.. Uh, w-what is it? That you needed help with, I mean."
"Follow me. The problem is upstairs."
"Oh. Okay."
She willingly followed. Reaching the flat, she immediately noticed to diaper bag sitting on the floor by the coffee table. Sherlock stood looking down at the couch. As she peered closer she noticed the baby. Immediately recognizing her, She rushed over and picked Stephanie up.
"Oh, Sherlock! You can't just leave a baby lying on the couch! She could've easily rolled off and hurt herself!"
"It won't stop crying."
Well that's Sherlock Holmes for you. Straight to the point, Molly thought. Why on earth would John let Sherlock watch her? It must have been a real emergency, especially since normally any one of Mary's friends or family could have taken her.
"Have you tried feeding her?"
"Yes, of course I have. John had prepared a bottle ahead of time. It didn't eat much." Sherlock rolled his eyes at the mundane question. What did she think he was? An idiot?
"First of all, she has a name, so stop referring to her as it. Second, did you warm the bottle?" Molly surprised herself. Where did that confidence come from?
"Yes. John left very thorough instruction as to what I was supposed to do with it - her - as to feeding, but she doesn't seem to respond to my prodding."
"Alright, does she maybe need to be changed?"
"Changed?" Molly could briefly see the look of pure confusion on Sherlock's face as he said this, but he quickly resumed his impassive facade. Molly checked her diaper, and sure enough that was the problem.
"Yes, her diaper needs to be changed." Sherlock just stared at her. Molly sighed, "Can you hand me the diaper bag, please?" Again, Sherlock just stared at her, but this time with an underlying look of 'can't you get it yourself?' "Look, if you want me to help you then you need to help me. Now, can you please just get me her diaper bag?"
Already, Molly was getting frustrated with Sherlock. Having Sherlock live with her while he took down Moriarty's network had been a pain, and she had quickly learned that living with Sherlock was like living with a five year old. Albeit, she did still have feelings for him, but they definitely didn't affect her the way they used to. Yes, occasionally she would stutter in his presence, but not as often. She really was proud of herself for not letting Sherlock push her around anymore.
In the time these thoughts circled around her head, Sherlock had set the bag down in front of Molly. She shook herself out of her reverie. Slowly she kneeled down on the carpet. Balancing Stephanie in one arm, she layed down a thin blanket from the bag. Then she gently set her down on the blanket, and began to unbutton her onesie. Sherlock observed from above, not wanting to get any closer.
Once she was finished, she looked up at Sherlock, "Do you think you can do that on your own next time?" She stood back up and looked Sherlock in the eye.
"Yes. I believe I can, it was a simple enough process that I will be able to remember how to do it the next time this problem arises. One question though, why is she still crying?" He had a smug look on his face as if to say 'you didn't fix the problem either.'
"Maybe she needs a nap? Babies need a lot of sleep. All you have to do is rock her. Side to side and up and down." She demonstrated for him, "Sort of like that." She handed the baby back to Sherlock, making sure she was secure in his arms before letting her go. The close contact caused Molly to become embarrassed and blush.
Sherlock exhibited all he had learned by rocking Stephanie slowly from side to side, gently bouncing her in his arms. "Like this?"
"Yes, like that." The sight of Sherlock rocking a baby made Molly want to swoon, it was more than she could handle. Seeing as Sherlock had a grasp on taking care of her, she tried to excuse herself, "Well, now that you've got the hang of it. I best be going. I've got to work tomorrow, early shift so I need to get to bed."
But Sherlock would have none of that, "You really are a terrible liar. Tomorrow is Saturday, you don't work. It's perfectly fine for you to stay here this weekend while I watch Stephanie."
"You're just asking me to stay so I will watch Steph! If you think I'm getting up in the middle of the night to give her a bottle or change her, then you're wrong. John gave you the responsibility, now deal with it. Besides, I'm sure Tom is waiting for me. I'm going home." She made her way to the door, putting her coat on along the way.
An audible sigh came from Sherlock at the mention of Tom, "Please. Stay with me while I take care of her. Obviously you are better prepared for taking care of a child. We can switch off during the night. I won't make you get up with her every time."
Molly seriously considered leaving, but then she saw the pleading look in Sherlock's eyes. That was not a look she had been on the receiving end of very often, she only got it when Sherlock was desperate for help. Although she had sworn to herself that she was through giving in to Sherlock, a few more seconds of staring into his eyes and she was hopeless. It's not like Tom couldn't survive on his own for the night. She would just tell him she was at one of her girlfriend's for the weekend.
She sighed, and finally conceded, "Alright. I'll stay, but if you don't keep your word, believe me I'll leave. And I'll need to retrieve some clothes from my flat." He nodded at her proposal, and continued rocking Stephanie.
She fell asleep rather quickly, which left Sherlock confused as to what to do next. He looked to Molly for guidance, "What do I do now that she's asleep? If I can't put her on the couch, where should I put her. She's certainly not sleeping in my bed."
"Didn't John leave a collapsible crib? It should be about this big," she gestured about the size of the rectangular box, Sherlock thought.
"Yes, I believe he might have. Would that be it there?" He looked in the direction of the rest of Stephanie's things by the door.
"That is it. Now, we have to set it up." She looked to Sherlock as she started to unzip the bag. "Let me rephrase that. I need to set it up while you just stand there making sure Steph doesn't wake up."
Molly started to unfold the crib, and within a matter of minutes it was set up. It really wasn't that hard if you put your mind to it, and follow the instructions she thought. "Where should we put the crib?"
Sherlock seemed to think for a moment before replying, "My room, I suppose. That way at night it will be more convenient to reach her should she resume fussing."
"Which leads to my next question, where am I sleeping? I'm assuming John's old room?"
"No, I turned that room into a lab the minute he left."
"On the couch then?"
"Don't be daft, Molly. You can sleep in my room, I'm sure it's perfectly adequate. Better than your bedroom."
Molly turned a deep shade of red, "W-with...you?" She managed to squeak out.
He sighed, getting frustrated at her incompetence. "Where else would you have me sleep? Really, Molly. Must you always ask such stupid questions?"
Molly knew he didn't realize what he said, and he knew he didn't mean that he thought she was stupid, but his words still hurt. Even after helping him fake his death, and sharing a flat with him (for far too long in her opinion), he didn't manage to stop his rude comments. Would he ever realize how much his words hurt everyone around him. Sure, it was okay to insult Anderson, he was a prat to begin with. But insulting his friends? Even if he claimed he didn't have friends, he did, and he insulted them on a regular basis.
Molly took a deep breath to calm herself. There was no point in getting mad at him, he didn't know what he did was wrong. Really, sometimes he was like an eight year old. "Alright. I'll go put it back there then."
He followed Molly as she slowly made her way to his room. It was a painful process for Molly. She didn't want to bump the walls or knock anything over, so she went at turtle's pace. Finally in his room, she set the crib down at the foot of his bed. Sherlock gently placed Stephanie down in the crib successfully managing to not wake her in the process.
The rest of the afternoon passed by with ease. Stephanie woke from her nap, took her bottle and was satisfied to play with her toys on the floor while Molly watched her. Sherlock it seemed had disappeared to his lab to work on some case or other. Molly figured there wasn't really a point to getting mad at him for leaving, Steph was doing fine, no fussing, so she didn't mind being the only one watching her. However, as it got closer to Stephanie's bedtime, she did start to get fussy. She had just had her bottle, and had been changed, so she knew it was coming, and like most babies started to resist sleep. There was nothing she could do to calm Stephanie, so she did the only thing left to try, sing. The only lullaby she could think of was Goodnight Sweetheart. She can still remember her father singing it to her when she had bad dreams and it always soothed her.
Unknown to her, Sherlock had just been coming from his make-shift lab when he heard Molly singing. He stopped before entering the room, wanting to hear the whole song, and not wanting to have the responsibility of putting Stephanie to bed. The song obviously had some sentimental value to her. It was probably a song her parents used to sing to her. She really did have a nice voice, she wasn't off key, and it was clearly pacifying the baby. He saved the lyrics in his mind palace, they might come in handy when it was his turn to put the baby to sleep.
Soon, the song was over, and the baby was asleep. Sherlock went back up a few steps, cleared his throat and continued back down to the living room. Molly had sat down after finishing her song, and looked over at Sherlock as he entered the room. She put a finger to her lips in an effort to keep him quiet.
She whispered to him across the room, "She just fell asleep, so be quiet. I'll put her in her crib in a bit, I just want to make sure she's sound asleep."
Sherlock nodded, and proceeded to make tea. Just before the kettle started to whistle, he took it off the stove. Pouring two cups for Molly and himself, and making them just the way they liked it. He set a cup down in front of Molly.
She whispered again, "I'm going to put her in her crib, I'll be back in a sec." When she returned, she looked appreciatively at the tea, and then at Sherlock, "Thanks, for this."
"Well, you have been helping me with Stephanie, I figured it was the least I could do." Literally the least he could do, Molly thought. But, she supposed, it was the thought that counts. And for Sherlock, that was a pretty big thought, he rarely thought of others. So, Molly decided to appreciate the small gesture.
Molly realized Stephanie would probably get up a few times during the night, and even if Sherlock was going to switch on and off with her, she knew she would still be tired in the morning. So, after saying goodnight to Sherlock, she went to bed. It was odd to not be in her own bed. The smell of Sherlock was overpowering, and she had a hard time getting to sleep. Just as she finally managed to fall asleep, she felt Sherlock crawl into bed. It took her quite a while after that to relax again. She kept telling herself there was no reason to overreact, and then she realized he didn't have any trousers on. She felt guilty at the thought of her being in a bed with the man she used to be in love with, while she was engaged to another man.
After a minor freak out, Molly managed to calm herself down. Like Sherlock had said before, the body is only transport, there was no need to act like this. With that thought in mind, she managed to sleep peacefully. It had been a long day, and she deserved to rest. Luckily for her, Stephanie only got up once in the middle of the night, and it was Sherlock's turn to soothe her. Stephanie was fairly cooperative for Sherlock, fortunately, so she went back to sleep quickly after a bottle and being changed.
The last thing Molly registered was feeling Sherlock climb into bed before she fell back into a deep, restful sleep. Sherlock, unusually did not have thoughts before eventually falling asleep, which he thought was very odd indeed. Some brilliant idea almost always came to him when he was about to rest, which was why he forwent sleeping on a regular basis. However, considering the circumstances, he figured it was for the best that he slept as much as possible.
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