Oh...Hello. Someone is reading this? A warm welcome to my story. This is my first Sherlock story. I usually do more Criminal Minds stuff, but Sherlock caught me, the minute I saw him. English isn´t my usual language, so the grammar might be strange, sometimes. I hope you like it, nevertheless. Some reviews would be so kind and nice, I appreciate every single one of them.

DISCLAIMER: I don´t own Sherlock, I don´t gain any money with this, it´s written just for fun.

John opened the fridge ... and closed it again. To then open it again, with a disgusted expression.

"Sherlock?"

"Sherlock!"

"John?"

"I know, I probably shouldn´t ask, but why are...um...feet in our fridge?"

"One foot, to be exact, John."

John rolled his eyes, whether foot or feet, who cared? Body parts did not belong in the refrigerator.

"Um. Foot? Refrigerator?" John repeated.

"Well first of all, because it would start to smell if I would keep it outside."

John shook his head, this discussion would lead to nothing. After all, feet were not as bad as a single head ... Oh Lord, John thought. Nothing like this was supposed to be in a refrigerator.

" I suppose, it´s for one of your experiments, Sherlock? " Holmes was lying on his sofa, barefoot, in pajamas and his robe, throwing a tennis ball against the wall. "Originally, John. Then it bored me. "

" Bored you? Damn, Sherlock! Did you have a look around here, lately? The entire apartment cries out for a thorough cleaning. Neither I nor Mrs. Hudson have a contract as your housekeeper, Sherlock. I wonder, if it's too much to ask of you, at least to pay some attention to cleanliness and order. Moreover, we´ve got nothing to eat, the fridge is empty! "

Sherlock refrained himself from reminding John of the foot. He had a feeling, it wouldn´t be that appropriate. John would invoke, one can´t eat feet. And no matter how Sherlock twisted and turned this issue, John was right. In addition, Sherlock noted, his stomach was growling.

"I ... um ... would be willing to go shopping," he offered, sounding as if he had to ask Anderson for a date.

John frowned, " shopping? YOU? Dear Lord, Sherlock. You must be bored to death."

oOo

Less than 20 minutes later, Sherlock stood on the pavement in front of 221b and walked towards Tesco. With a shopping list ( how unnecessary ) but without this 'jute instead of plastic ' bag, that John wanted to hand him. Shopping was annoying enough, and in addition, carrying a silly eco - bag...Sherlock got goose bumps. He just refused to take it. Another 10 minutes later, Sherlock´s lively steps brought him to the super market. He was taking a quick look around and found, what he was looking for, a cart. He shook it vigorously and suddenly he heard a chuckle behind him.

"You probably don´t use them very often, do you?" Concluded the young woman behind him razor-sharp. Sherlock turned around. The woman was black-haired, 1.65 m and weighed about 100 pounds. She was carefully dressed, but you could tell that at least her coat had seen better days. Just like her shoes, he noticed crooked heels. Sherlock guessed her to be 23, at least, the little girl on her arm was about three. To be honest, Sherlock wasn´t sure about the little girl. He didn´t have much contact with kids. None, to be specific.

"Be a nice girl and hand this gentleman our chip, Carys.", the woman said.

Sherlock's gray cells started to rattle, 'Carys', Welsh first name. Love, Heart. This fit the dark hair and the slight accent of the mother. Originally Wales, Cardiff likely. But lived long enough in London to adapt to the linguistic situation here.

"But you´ll need it yourself, miss. "

She nodded, "but that does not matter. For what I can... I mean, I don´t need that much."

For what I can afford, a basket will do, Sherlock corrected her in thought. But that did not concern him, he was here to ... um ... buy groceries. Sherlock shuddered, he had narrowly escaped an obligation for basic cleaning. The sooner he got home, the more likely it would be, he had to help. So he decided, to buy himself some time and practice some 'social interaction'. John always said, he had a huge lack of it. But that wasn´t quite true, the point was, Sherlock wasn´t interested in social activities. John often invited him, when he was meeting with Mike Stamford for a couple of drinks. Sherlock always refused to come along.

oOo

"We could share a cart, if you want. This cart has a device for transporting children. It would be easier for you, than to carry the small one and a basket." Sherlock tried to make his voice sound friendly and warm and he apparently succeeded. The little girl beamed at him and handed him the piece of plastic.

"Schipp."

"Chip" Sherlock corrected automatically and Carys nodded. "Schipp." She smiled again and stretched out her arms to Sherlock.

"Oh, she wants you, to put her into the cart. Apparently she likes you, I didn´t see her, doing that before."

"Carys take," the curly-haired now energetically said and Sherlock grabbed her, a little unsure. Children were not exactly his cup of tea, they were ... well, children. Carys didn´t care about this, she still beamed at Sherlock with her water-blue eyes that somehow reminded him of his own. He smiled back instinctively when he put the girl in the shopping cart. Then he caught himself, caressing the little girls curls. She is truly a delightful child, he thought, quite surprised.

oOo

The young mother looked at the stranger. Very close. Could he be the solution to her problems? He was obviously well stuffed, his clothes were expensive. He seemed to be formed, perhaps a bit quixotic, aristocrat? Whether he could take care of her little girl for a while? Emma Hicks was close to despair, 15 pounds in her purse was everything Emma and Carys Hicks had left in cash. Emma had to find a new job, but how would that work? She had no one to look after Carys, no money for a nursery. And then the problem with the apartment, Emma was 4 months in arrears. Her landlord, Hank o'Donnell, had been sympathetic, of course, he won´t put a tenant out of the flat, certainly not in the midst of winter. Then his gaze wandered suggestively over Emma's body and the young mother knew what he meant. Emma shuddered, she´d rather leave Carys with this stranger and sleep under a bridge, than let o´Donnell touch her.

oOo

"Are you all right? " Sherlock wanted to know, he could not help but notice the faint sigh. And a question about her sensitivities would be exactly, what John would expect from him. They went through the front door of Tesco.

"I'm fine," Emma lied awkwardly and blushed.

"Mama sad," Carys reported audibly. "Mama crying."

Sherlock earned a disapproving look from an older lady. "Why you´re making your wife sad? And don´t try to explain away, I know guys like you. Well enough." The feisty woman in her mid - sitxy´s put her hands on her hips.

"I beg your pardon, ma'am. We´re not married." Sherlock joined apparent surprise.

"Worse! And you´re probably not the father of this little puppet?" She made a move to use her umbrella.

" Oh, please, ma'am. It 's all good with my friend and me. I'm not sad because of him and he's a good dad, definitely. " Emma put a reassuring hand on the woman´s arm and smiled.

" Well, then. But he looks like trouble to me. So take care of yourself, love. Sometimes an umbrella can be useful."

"I think that's not necessary ," Emma gave the woman a nice smile and the strong-minded woman went her way.

" Sorry, I did not mean to bring you such a situation, Mr. ? "

"The name is Sherlock Holmes. "

"I 'm Emma and this is Carys, but you know that already. "

Holmes nodded, " the lady has drawn the wrong conclusions, understandable when one considers the facts. We share a cart, do have a small child with us, that if you permit me to remark , in fact, shows a slight resemblance with me. You look sad, Carys told, you´ve been crying, so she assumed domestic differences."

Emma looked at Sherlock, surprised. He did not mention the fact that she had almost called him her boyfriend and the father of her child. Apparently it did not bother him at all. She made her decision in a split second. This Sherlock Holmes was heaven-sent.

"Would you excuse me for a moment, I ..." Emma glanced towards the toilets. Sherlock nodded, he knew this woman problem hearsay, John mentioned frequently the pee breaks, he had to make when he was traveling with his acquaintances. "I would like you to pay attention to Carys for a while, would you do that? Please? "

"Of course, Emma. We will not get lost here. " Emma leaned heavy-hearted to her daughter. It had to be, if she wanted to regain a foothold. She knew his name. Sherlock Holmes. Emma knew she´d find him and with him, her daughter.

"Be a good girl, my darling. Mama comes back, for sure." She hugged and kissed little Carys, then she looked at Sherlock again intently. "Thank you. Take good care of her. Promise."

Sherlock was irritated. Dear Lord, she was just going to the ladies room. "Of course ," he confirmed.

With a last sad look at Carys Emma Hicks disappeared.