As you can probably tell, I'm having a very good day today in terms of writing as ideas just seem to be flowing into my mind lately.

It would be my pleasure and my privilege to dedicate this one shot to: OliviathePirate, ,nette062 and SophieHolmesWatson. I am tickled pink that you liked the story enough to review it. Thank you.

I've also been hoping that a few of you would send me ideas of one shots you'd like me to write. If you have one, please review or message me because I'd be more than happy to write it… if it's in my power of course.

It was one of those incredibly rare, peaceful afternoons in the flat of 221b on Baker Street. In the kitchen, Sherlock messed around with chemicals, carefully measuring each one in order to cause much bigger explosions without damaging the kitchen table too much. John had threatened that if it had to be replaced one more time, the leather sofa would replace their marital bed which the detective didn't seem very enthusiastic about. Granted, he rarely slept while on a case but his mind seemed to settle a little when his husband was curled up by his side, an arm and leg thrown over him as if to subtly tell the world that he belonged to one man and one man only.

In the living room, John sat in his favourite arm chair in front of the fire place, his laptop on his lap while updating his blog. Despite it including a lot of write ups for cases and funny situations the pair had been in, their daughter was a very frequent topic of discussion. It acted as a way to let his family and friend know how she was doing. Luckily, this seemed to satisfy them enough so they never needed to pop around for a surprise visit that would probably end in Sherlock offering to make tea in order to slip something in their cups before the visitor drank it unsuspectingly.

Curled up in a small ball in the corner of the couch was Lily, a tattered old book sat on her lap while her eyes skimmed the words on the page, nose crinkling cutely when she read something that seemed wrong before removing the pencil from her mouth in order to correct an obvious mistake her dad had made in his case notes. Strangely, it had become a part of their routine. The three would set out to solve a case, the youngest having to head back home when it began to get dark, and after the case, she would sit and review every last detail in order to make sure they were all correct.

Surprisingly, that was what her dad was typing about.

So, as usual, Lily is sat opposite me with my case notes in hand, mercilessly slashing away at parts she doesn't 'agree' with like my old theories, evidence interpretations and even things that both her and Sherlock said. To be honest, I would have thought she'd be reading the book that Sherlock searched all of London in order to find… ' Through the looking glass.'. To say that that was an easy task would be a complete and utter lie. It involved the internet, 15 bookshops, the whole homicide division of Scotland Yard and an almost endless supply of coffee but he found it and lord, I thought her face was going to split judging by the size of her smile. Currently, that book is sat beside her, waiting for the time when she's finished.
While she's doing that, her daddy is mixing things in the kitchen. Believe me when I say, no one really wants to know what the hell he's doing; it could range from potentially dangerous chemicals to trying to strength things like house cleaners for Mrs Hudson though last time, he made a surface cleaner which effectively got rid of the stain… and the vanish… and the wood… and even part of the kitchen laminate.

Time passed slowly, the only changes that happened was Lily switching books and John swapping websites, deciding to look up any possible cases. Then suddenly, a loud knocking broke through the blissful quiet, causing all three heads to turn in the direction of the door, each person trying to hear what Mrs Hudson was saying to the visitor.

"It isn't a client." John stated, looking over at his daughter for any conformation on his idea. All he received was a small inclination of the head to her right.

"You're right dad. They usually use the doorbell, just to make sure that we can hear it. It they're knocking, they've either missed the large white button or they don't want us knowing about them." She explained quietly, moving from her place in order to go see who the visitor was but it wasn't really necessary. Before she was a few feet away from the white wooden down, it was thrown open to reveal a woman that both the detective and his daughter recognised immediately.

She stood there in the doorway, her dark green eyes narrowed slightly as she looked around the chaotically organised flat. Windswept brown ringlets framed her face hardly, giving her a rather pathetic but slightly menacing appearance. Watson noticed that both Lily and Sherlock stared at her, their own eyes narrowed at her but for the life of him, he couldn't see what was wrong. Huge street fighters and convicts had come through that door, begging for help and they didn't bat an eyelid. Instead, they simply invite them to take a seat and offer a cup of tea. With this woman, they both seemed on edge.

Deciding to ignore his hospitable instincts, especially as she caused such a reaction from his family, he silently observed the scene before him. For some reason, he had a niggling feeling at the very back of his mind… as though it was whispering the answer to him but it just wasn't loud enough for him to hear.

"Lillian, Sherlock, how nice to see both of you against, especially after so long." She said, casually leaning against the door frame as she switched her gaze between the two a few times. Only then did he notice that his little girl had taken a small step backwards, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her new book tightly to her chest, hugging it close to her.

"Well Pandora, I don't believe that I can say the same but thank you for the sentiment. Now, if that's all you've come here for…"

"Oh Lillian, you always did love Lewis Carrol's writing. I swear, when you were a child, you never let go of that tattered old book… like it was the only thing keeping you alive." Pandora interrupted, chuckling slightly at the end as she approached the young girl, her hand outstretched to touch her chocolate curls. Despite the few steps back she took, she couldn't escape the approaching hand. The moment her hand connected with her hair, her trembling turned to shaking and all of the colour seemed to drain from her face at that very moment. With wide frantic eyes, she tried to take another step back, wishing to be closer to her dad or daddy but the woman's restraining hand on her shoulder halted all movements.

Her grip was bruising, her fingertips digging painfully into her shoulder so she couldn't escape.

John frowned at his daughter's reaction, wondering what would cause her to react in such a way to a complete stranger. Risking a glance to his husband, he saw his jaw clenched in anger, glaring intensely at the intruder. Taking a closer look at the Pandora woman, he attempted to list everything he could, hoping to find some kind of answer.

'Long brown hair hanging in ringlets. Green eyes. Casual sense of dress, judging by the tight jeans and blue blouse. Natural make up… over familiar with Lily… that is obviously afraid of her… oh my lord!' Once he realised who she was, every protective instinct flared at once with a white hot intensity.

"You're Lily's mother." He stated firmly, angrily. The woman chuckled, nodding her head before yanking her daughter closer to her, bending down and wrapped one arm around her in a motherly hug while the other stroked her hair. If he wasn't the doctor to have treated the wounds the woman inflicted on her, he would have never believed the woman was an abusive parents but luckily, he wasn't falling for it.

Squirming against the older woman's hold, Lily looked over to her daddy, a mixture of fear and panic in her eyes. From where he stood, he could see her chest rising and falling quickly, signalling that she was hyperventilating. Rushing over to the pair, he quickly removed his daughter from his ex-partners arms, gently pushing her into John's open arms. The moment she was close enough, he began rubbing her back, whispering in her soothingly so she'd calm down and regulate her breathing.

While that happened, Sherlock grabbed the woman by her arm, dragging her from the room and closing the door behind him. The moment it shut, giving them a little privacy, he turned to face her.

"What are you doing here Pandora?" he snarled, his usual mask of indifference shattering to reveal an angry and worried parent. Completely unaffected by his anger, she smirked.

"I'm here to take my daughter back where she belongs." She told him, as though she was telling him the time or what the weather was like outside. Scoffing, he shook his head, sending his curls into an even wilder mess than before.

"Your daughter? She stopped belonging to you when you beat her half to death! She's mine and John's now Pandora and believe me when I tell you that I am not letting you take her away from us!"

"Sorry Sherlock but the freak has caught the attention of a very… wealthy family whose son wants to marry her when she's of age." She explained, the corners of her lips pulling up into a grin.

The consultant detective felt all of the colour drain from his face. She wanted to marry off his daughter? Who was barely 14? He would not allow that to happen. He would not be trapped into a loveless marriage, all because her mother was a money grabbing, vicious harpy. Standing straight, he glared at her with everything he could muster, hoping to make his feelings clear.

"I will not allow it and neither will John."

"I'm sorry to say but you don't have a legal leg to stand on. I'm her mother so I have full custody." Holmes raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a bored expression while inside, he was jumping for joy. There was no way he could be beaten.

"Actually, John adopted Lily on our wedding day which means that custody automatically goes to us." That stopped her in her tracks.

"B-But you w-would have needed my signature…"

"Pandora, you know of my brother, don't you? Well, Mycroft made sure the papers went through without delay… a wedding present, so to speak." With a growl of frustration, she turned and stormed down the stairs. Standing there, Sherlock waited until he heard the sound of the front door slam before entering the flat once more.

John was sat on the sofa, Lily cradled in his arms. Both of their eyes were closed and were breathing deeply though he knew they weren't asleep. It was a technique john used to calm her down whenever she was stressed or over emotional. Moving over, he sat beside them both, causing them to stir.

In an instant, he had an arm full of Lily as she snuggled deep into his embrace. Chuckling quietly, he began stroking her hair gently. His husband shot him a concerned look, silently telling him he had heard parts of their conversation as he was the closest to the door but with a subtle shake of the head, he was put at ease.

"Y-You wouldn't let her take me, would you daddy?"

"Of course I wouldn't little one. What would I do without you?"

"You would probably die of boredom Sherlock. Do you know what he's like when you're at school? He sulks and talks to his skull until you come home." John tattled, sending a triumphant smile over her shoulder which caused the younger man to stick his bottom lip out.

"Dad, don't pick on daddy. I miss him too!" Lily mumbled, pressing a kiss to both of their cheeks then settled between them with a content smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

Yes, she was at peace.

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Love you al