Nasty business, very nasty business they had going on here. Double murder, the child left behind while the parents were brutally murdered. The child, the baby that Sherlock was right now holding as if the little girl might explode at any moment. John would have found it funny if there wasn't such a horrible scene on their hands.

The only reason Sherlock was holding onto the child because the little girl had latched onto him like a limpet and screamed blue murder every time she was taken away from him. So here Sherlock was, looking petrified and uncomfortable with the child trying to pull his curls right out of his head. He frowned and swatted the little girls hand away and she giggled and just started pulling again, completely oblivious to the fact she was an orphan.

Mycroft, Greg and John were stood around him, arms folded and looks of interest on their faces. Greg did look slightly amused, John looked downright confused by his loves reaction to the child and Mycroft had the usual stern look on his face.

"This is a pickle, really is…" Greg nodded.

"Pickle," Sherlock exclaimed, frowning deeply, "Please, tell me this is a joke?! More like it's a fuc-"

John cuffed his lover across the back of the head, scowling at him and shaking his head. Sherlock looked up at him with a face like thunder.

"No swearing in front of the baby." John said, giving Sherlock a look.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John before turning them on the baby. Mycroft rolled his eyes and sighed very noisily.

"Not exactly father material, are you brother?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Like you know." Sherlock quipped.

Greg gave Mycroft a shifty look and Sherlock looked between the pair of them, before giving a huffing mumbling mutter of discontent. The baby made a little noise and curled up in his lap, closing her eyes.

"What do you propose?" Sherlock asked, pouting.

"We could always, keep her?" John said gently.

All eyes in the room turned to him and he looked around at everyone, his eyes wide. He shrugged and smiled a little bit before looking back down at a completely stunned Sherlock, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. Blinking several times, he shot a look at Greg and Mycroft. Taking Mycroft's hand, Greg pulled him away to let the two have a moment alone.

"John, have you gone completely insane?" Sherlock asked, his voice low.

Rolling his eyes, John just sat beside Sherlock on the arm of his chair and put his arm around his love, kissing his forehead. He smiled and stroked back the curls from the little girls brow, tucking them behind her ear.

"Look at her, Sherlock. Unknowing. We can help her, look after her." he smiled, watching as the little girl grabbed at handfuls of Sherlock's shirt as she slept.

Sherlock looked down at the little girl and sighed, his face softening. He sighed and looked up at John, a little worried look on his face.

"I'm no father, John. I don't have the first clue how to be a father." he said, softly.

"You'll learn, we'll learn." John said, taking Sherlock's hand and kissing the back of it.

"You really want this, don't you?"

"I'd always hoped."

Sherlock rested his head back on the chair, looking up at John and stroking a finger down his cheek. Then he smiled and John leaned down to kiss him gently. Then he looked down at the bundle in his lap and his shoulders fell, a little smile spreading over his face as the child smiled in her sleep.

"Alright."