Well, I really hope you enjoy this one. I had the beginning sentences and this cute image in my head for weeks now and finally I came around to write it. Just a bit of fluff to cure myself of the renewed Reichenbach heartache.
Enjoy! And as always I'd be happy if you let me know what you think about it in the end!
Hope for the future
John Watson wasn't easily taken aback, he had seen his fair share of strange things since moving in with Sherlock Holmes. But nothing had prepared him for the sight that greeted him when he came down in the morning, hair slightly wet from a shower but still bleary eyed and drowsy with sleep.
It started two days before when Sherlock was summoned by Lestrade for another case and John thanked every deity available for that. It had been nearly two weeks since the last case and Sherlock not only got on John's nerves he also slowly drifted into a dangerous dark mood. In fact the doctor prepared himself for another raid of the flat because there was no doubt another danger night was ahead of them at that rate and not even he could change that.
"Coming John?"
Sherlock looked at the doctor expectantly, hand already on the door handle, waiting.
Quickly he grabbed his jacket and followed the detective out of the door.
He smiled fondly to himself, in the beginning of their flat-share Sherlock would have gone out without waiting, plainly taking for granted that John had nothing else to do than to follow him. But now that they got closer, experiencing the early stages of an intimate, romantic relationship, Sherlock was a lot more considerate.
It was quite a lot like being a teenager all over again because neither of them exactly knew what they were doing in some way, John still coming to terms with the fact that he did fall for Sherlock Holmes –not that he regretted it or was unhappy- and Sherlock struggling with the whole matter of the heart stuff. Truth be told, Sherlock admitted that one night when they were comfortably curled around each other on the sofa, he wasn't inexperienced at all –no matter what Mycroft or anyone else thought- he'd just never really troubled himself with a relationship before. He had had dates, he had had his fair share of fun but he'd never before felt so strongly for anyone like he did for John and that was confusing for the genius.
That's why they took their time, going slowly and exploring the vast field of emotions together, John being in love with a man, Sherlock being in love. It made John's heart flutter in the most extraordinary way. Although he couldn't deny that it hurt even more now to know that he still wasn't enough to distract the detective between cases. All the more glad he was now sitting next to Sherlock in the cab.
"So? What's the case about?" he asked, intrigued because the dark-haired man hadn't said a word so far.
"Stabbed man, missing family."
"And?"
"I don't know yet, that's pretty much everything Lestrade told me."
Completely puzzled by now, John looked at his friend.
"Well that's odd, don't get me wrong but if that's all Lestrade told you, you wouldn't normally be so accepting of the case, it hardly sounds interesting."
At that Sherlock turned his gaze on John and smiled a little.
"Don't let Donovan catch you saying something like this, you start to sound like me, I don't think she'd take that well but I agree. You are right." He tapped a couple of times on his phone, let John read Lestrade's text.
The doctor frowned, he knew the DI's style of text and something was off with this one although he couldn't say what made him feel that way other than the 'Not much time' note at the end.
"Something's wrong…" he muttered what resulted in a proud smile on Sherlock's lips.
"Right, it indicates that there is more to it than a mere stabbing and abduction, time sensitive too. Either it's someone important or it involves something bigger, we'll see what it is."
John nodded and followed Sherlock out of the cab and to the crime scene soon after.
"Oi Freak, what do you want?"
"Mmh let's see, save your sorry incompetent asses –again!" Sherlock snarled, sniffing at her on his way past. "You really should stop using Anderson's deodorant everytime you stay the night… LESTRADE!"
John only shrugged at the gaping Sergeant Donovan and hurried to the DI too.
"Now what's the big mystery, you obviously left something out in your text! And please don't be boring or I have to resort to pick-pocket you again for annoying me."
"Sherlock!" John grumbled but DI Gregory Lestrade didn't seem in the least intimidated by it, he knew the detective for years already.
"You're right but come through, I'll fill you in while you have a look around, we don't have time to waste here."
The body of the victim was at the back of an ordinary family house in the middle of the garden. Sherlock started cataloguing every detail with a small delighted smile while John cringed at the sight of the corpse. He certainly had seen worse in his time in Afghanistan but one quick look told him already that it wasn't an easy death, the man probably was in a lot of pain before he died.
"The name was Joseph Walker, 36 and worked for a small delivery service but –and that's the important thing here- he also worked for the Yard. A couple of months ago he was arrested for some small drug possession thing. He was quick to admit everything he knew because he had a wife and a daughter to care for. Showed that he'd accidentally come across invaluable information about a smuggling ring we tried to arrest for some time. He was offered a deal and he accepted. We are in the end stages of this case, the plan was to bust the ring this weekend but now our informant is dead and his wife and daughter are missing. We have to solve his death quickly; firstly to rescue his family and secondly to save of this operation what can be saved." Lestrade sighed.
"What makes you think that they kidnapped the wife and child?" Sherlock asked curiously, motioning for John to take a look at the body.
"To be honest, we don't know but every try to contact the wife failed, she's not with any of her friends or on the way there. They moved here a year ago and it seems like she spend all of her time at home with her daughter. She doesn't have friends around here. So it's the only explanation we came up with, that she was kidnapped to ensure we stop the operation."
"Who found the body?" John asked from his place next to the body, examining the stab wound.
"Someone who lives a couple of streets away. He was walking his dog, apparently his usual route, but something had attracted the dog and it vanished around this house and didn't come back when it was called but was barking like mad."
The doctor looked up, another frown on his face.
"And none of the neighbours noticed anything before that? That can't be possible."
"But that's the way it is." The DI replied.
"What's the matter John?" Sherlock looked at the smaller man kneeling on the grass with an interested expression.
"Look at the wound, Sherlock. Don't even try to pretend that you haven't noticed already. This man was positively in agony, the way he was stabbed it probably took more than twenty minutes until he died. He isn't gagged, there's no way he wasn't screaming in pain and for help. And seriously it's not like this house is far from the next. The neighbours must have heard him."
"You're right, I admit it did cross my mind but I guess your people made a thorough job in questioning them…" the consulting detective looked at Lestrade.
"They did, I talked with the next door neighbours myself, they didn't hear anything."
John shook his head.
"Sherlock, give me…" the doctor never finished the sentence, Sherlock knew already what he wanted and handed over his torch, kneeling next to him.
"There is no way this stab wound was the cause of death if Lestrade is right and nobody heard anything, there must be something else…" John murmured, pointing the light on the dead man's face, revealing what the fading dusk light had hidden until now.
The wide open, unseeing eyes showed blown pupils and a trickle of white-greyish liquid came from his mouth. John groaned and rolled his eyes and Sherlock failed to surpress a chuckle.
"Yeah right, obviously… you know, next time I take the torch, it would save us a lot of time."
"Apologies John, you're right it would be more effective." The detective replied with a barely concealed grin and got back on his feet, holding out his hand to help John up as well.
"Forget about the wound, it wasn't the actual reason. Most likely only a way of immobilisation. He died from an overdose, I'm sure you'll find an injection site somewhere on his carotid artery. Anyway, neither the body nor the crime scene can tell me any more than I know already and we can't help him anymore, now give me data, ALL the data on the smuggling ring so I can find the rest of the family."
Lestrade was quick to send a young officer to gather all the information, one of the few who still respected Sherlock Holmes for his abilities and didn't resent him for his venomous tongue. And to John, who waited a few steps away, it looked a lot like this boy wanted it to stay this way because he was quick to do whatever Sherlock told him to, he smiled.
"You know, normally we try to keep him out of everything drug related but this case is important. This poor sod was a good man at heart, he gave us lots of information, he should get an award instead of a funeral, the least we can do is to make sure his family returns healthy." The DI said silently.
"You still think that Sherlock…" John started.
"Not exactly, no. He's been clean for years now and it's obvious that he intends to stay this way, even more so since you moved in with him, you really are a good influence on him. But Mycroft and I… we talked about that a lot and we decided that it'll be better not to tempt him in any way…" Both men watched the interaction between Sherlock and the officer. "I don't know how much you know, John and it certainly isn't my place to tell you but when I met Sherlock, I saw a few things I'd rather forget about and never experience again with him, so we're taking no risks and if he can help us with this case, I personally have an eye on him. He's stronger now and his doesn't want to disappoint you but you know the saying: better safe than sorry." The DI patted John's shoulder and went to do his job.
John stayed behind and waited, he didn't know much about Sherlock's darker past just like the detective didn't know more than he already deduced on day one about John's past. One day they probably should talk about that too but there were more pressing issues now.
They returned home and spent the evening reading observation reports, statements and pages upon pages of notes and pictures on a several months old on-going case. John's head soon started to hurt from the sheer flood of information but Sherlock quickly dismissed various things as useless.
Deep into the night John finally got up from his chair stretching and yawning simultaneously.
"Right, I'm off to bed, I didn't get a thing of what I read in the last fifteen minutes. Alright Sherlock?"
The doctor blinked at his companion; if he didn't know better he would have thought that Sherlock was asleep on the sofa instead of thinking.
"Sherlock? Wandering around your Mind Palace again, aren't you?"
As expected there was no response at all and John chuckled silently.
"Never mind, your silence is answer enough. Good-night Sherlock." He leaned down, pressed a soft kiss on the unruly curls and went to bed.
He'd already climbed the first three steps of the stairs when he heard an absent-minded "Sleep well, dear!" echoing behind him that made him smile like a child on Christmas Day. Of all the things he had expected, Sherlock using terms of endearment wasn't one of them and yet he was surprised regularly by the sweetness and creativity of Sherlock in this matter.
The next morning pretty much started like the night before ended, Sherlock hadn't moved an inch by the look of it.
John silently moved to the kitchen making a bit of toast for himself and two mugs of tea.
"Sherlock, tea's ready, come and join me, you know how dehydration slows your brain down." He called from the kitchen.
He didn't have to wait long until he was enveloped in a back hug that made him shudder.
"Jesus, your hands are like ice." He mumbled but sighed happily anyway when the other nuzzled his neck.
"Good morning to you too, love!" the consulting detective whispered, pressing a soft kiss on John's hair and took one of the mugs from the counter, warming his fingers on it before taking a sip, relishing the taste of it. "Did you sleep well?"
John smiled.
"Good enough, you haven't slept at all I suppose? Do you have an idea now where they are?" he asked when they sat down at the table.
"Not yet, no. The case is quite interesting but I know that the wife and child weren't abducted by the smuggling ring, there is something wrong with that idea. I texted Lestrade that I need more information on the family, pictures from the interior of the house etc, I think she may have taken cover somewhere but something went wrong there otherwise she would have contacted the police by now. The big question is now where is she hiding and what went wrong."
"So you're saying she is in trouble but not in the hands of the smugglers, interesting idea, not exactly a better one but interesting nonetheless."
"Not directly anyway. Think about it John, this guy wasn't the only secret informant."
The doctor thought about what he read the evening before. It was a big operation, of course their victim wasn't the only informant. Naturally most of them were in some kind of contact with each other, most likely covering for each other too if they were in danger of discovery.
He huffed humourlessly.
"They trusted the wrong person. One of the informants was playing a double play, trying to gain from both sides. He probably was paid or something if he helps Joseph Walker's family in case of emergency and at the same time he tries to earn from the smugglers using them. Nice idea but not clever enough it seems."
"Well done indeed." Sherlock smiled. "It certainly narrows down the field of suspects but we can't barge in on every single one of them without alerting the masses, that's why I need the family information. Lestrade should get that to me soon."
But it wasn't the doorbell or Sherlock's phone that startled them from the kitchen table but John's phone.
The doctor frowned at the caller ID.
"Sarah? What's the matter? ...we're in the middle of a case… oh dear, no not a problem, Sherlock'll manage fine without me… give me an hour." He rang off and looked directly into Sherlock's narrowed eyes.
"What can I manage without you?" he asked in an emotionless tone.
"The case, Sherlock." John took a step closer to the dark-haired man, stroking the dark curls guiltily. "I'm sorry but Sarah is kind of in desperate need of help. It seems like the whole of London decided to contract the flu and three of her four colleagues called in sick too. The two of them can't handle all these people alone that's why she called and asked for help."
"But I need your help, John!" Sherlock huffed.
Smiling John nuzzled Sherlock's nose and gave him a sweet short kiss.
"No my dear, you don't need my help, you need someone to praise you and to stroke your enormous ego when you've solved the case, Sarah needs actual help with the patients. You'll do fine without me and I promise when you've solved the case tonight, you can tell me all about it and I'll praise you all you want then while I'll cook you something nice."
The detective grumbled.
"Can you make this chocolate apple pie thing again that you tried recently?"
"If that's what you want as your reward, of course. And now I have to get ready. Be careful and don't let the Yarders annoy you too much." John quickly got dressed. "Oh and Sherlock before you snap at them because they are being oblivious again, think about the pie and keep your mouth shut, the less time you spent arguing the better! See you tonight!"
John's day wasn't exactly exciting, the work he was doing to help Sarah wasn't difficult, there were just too many people at once.
After the fifth patient who told him exactly the same symptoms, John already wished he was at home working with Sherlock or wherever the detective was at that time and after the fifteenth he grabbed his mobile phone like a drowning man would grab the life buoy as soon as the door closed. He'd felt the soft vibration of an arriving text message a moment earlier. Sherlock had started to give him little updates on the case progress and bouncing off ideas that didn't exactly require replies but made his day at the surgery a lot more bearable.
At around five in the afternoon he got a last message informing him that they found the location they were looking for and that they now started the rescue mission.
John grinned although he couldn't deny the tight feeling in his stomach that always made itself known when he couldn't keep an eye on Sherlock in potential dangerous situations but he still had two more hours to go and although the constant flow of patients lessened a bit it hadn't died down all day.
All the more surprised he was when a little over an hour later Sarah looked in on him.
"John? I think we can manage the rest on our own…" she said but John immediately raised an eyebrow, somehow her tone was suspicious.
"What's the matter? Was there a complaint of some kind?"
She quickly shook her head.
"Not at all, you were amazing today, I don't know how we would have managed without your help, it's just… Sherlock's out there…"
"What? Why didn't he come in? What's the matter, is he alright?"
"As far as I can see, he's perfectly fine but he's not alone and I don't think that's a good idea at all…"
John listened to Sarah's rambling on his way out into the waiting area with a puzzled expression but he quickly understood what the woman meant.
"Sherlock? Would you care to explain?" He asked curiously, taking in the most extraordinary picture. Sherlock Holmes sitting on a cheap plastic chair, granted with a slightly annoyed expression, but with his arms protectively around a small child, a little girl with thick dark curls not unlike Sherlock's own who had her head against his chest and was obviously more asleep than awake.
"We apparently have a guest tonight…" he huffed. "I was hoping that you'd come home with me. Mycroft send a car that's waiting outside, I could explain on the way."
John looked back at Sarah who nodded.
"Right, give me a minute to get my stuff."
Five minutes later the three of them sat in the back of a car on their way to Baker Street.
"Okay now you talk, why exactly do we have a guest tonight?"
"Honestly John, I wonder about that myself. This, as you certainly figured out already, is the daughter of our victim, Rebecca Walker. We found her and her mother in an empty warehouse a little outside of the city. The culprit, just like we assumed before, was a fellow informant who quickly got close with the family. Her mother went to him the moment she realised something bad was happening to her late husband but instead of taking them to safety, he locked them into the warehouse.
Obviously he wasn't as clever as he thought he was and her mother struck him down shortly before we arrived when he wanted to look after them and bring them food or something… anyway when we arrived on scene Lestrade had to take them both in. Of course it was self-defence for the mother but until all the paperwork is through she has to stay at the Yard. And for some reason I really, really don't understand little Rebecca decided that I am absolutely the only person, next to her mother, she can trust. Not that I can blame her with people like Anderson around. As Lestrade told us yesterday the family doesn't have family or friends around here. She has an aunt who is on her way here but she won't arrive until morning. That's why her mother, Lestrade and Mycroft decided that little Rebecca should stay at Baker Street until tomorrow seeing that she seems to like me for some reason."
As if on cue the girl made a small sniffling noise and grabbed Sherlock's shirt tightly in her small hand.
John laughed silently at the slightly indignant expression on his detective's face.
"Well, I certainly can't blame her. She has excellent taste! But okay, we'll manage. Just one thing, out of curiosity. What was Mycroft doing there?"
"Seems like my brother and his underlings have an interest in this smuggling ring too. Lestrade talked with him about it and called him when I found the location."
"These two spent a lot of time talking to each other, don't they?"
Sherlock looked incredulously at the doctor.
"I would think so, seeing that they are about one step away from moving in with each other…" he dead-panned. "And please close your mouth, doing an impression of a fish looks rather stupid."
"How couldn't I have noticed?"
"Well they are quite discreet about it and then… well, I keep on reminding you that you look but you don't observe, dear. Anyway it looks like we are stuck with this child at our flat and I have absolutely no desire to share my reward with her, I guess I'll have to wait another day for that." He grumbled what made John chuckle.
"You'll survive! Come on then."
Together they returned to 221B.
"Did she eat something?" John asked while puttering around the living room, tidying up some things that were potentially 'not good' for a child.
"I think she ate a biscuit before… that reminds me in my coat pocket is something the paramedic gave me for her. I haven't looked at it but I guess it's some kind of tranquillizer we're supposed to give her if she's getting restless."
John took the little bag out of the pocket and looked at it.
"You're right. Mh, it still is early, you probably should wake her up otherwise she'll be up all night. I'll cook dinner and then we'll see how she is later."
It didn't take John long to prepare a simple meal of Spaghetti with tomato sauce and Rebecca obviously liked it although the girl was thoroughly exhausted despite her nap before; but just like all children she fought sleep as long as possible while they were watching TV after dinner.
The girl still preferred Sherlock, obviously trusted and adored the man, but she also took a quick liking to John, agreeing with every person before that John is a nice and likable guy.
In the end she fell asleep sprawled over both Sherlock and John's laps.
"I guess she won't need the tranquillizer. I suppose she hasn't slept much last night in the warehouse." John murmured, looking at the child.
"Probably, let's get her to bed." Sherlock sighed, cautiously gathering her small frame in his arms and carrying her to his own bedroom.
When he came back John hugged him tightly.
"Have I recently told you that you're amazing?"
Sherlock laughed silently. "Not today, no but you'll have more than enough opportunity when I tell you all about the case tomorrow."
"That's not what I meant, I meant with Rebecca, you'd make an amazing father."
"Dear god no, I like this one, fine but I don't think children and I are compatible for any length of time. She is a sweet one but I'll be glad when she's gone tomorrow." The detective pressed a soft kiss to John's forehead.
"Ah I don't know, I think you could surprise yourself." John yawned.
"I really don't think so… but I think you probably should go to bed too, it was a long and tiring day for you, love."
"Well, I don't like it, I rather stay with you but you're right as always." They shared a sweet kiss before John got up. "Good night!"
"Sleep well!"
And that's when we arrive at the beginning again.
John Watson stood in the middle of the living room, looking into the kitchen. He barely believed his eyes.
Sherlock Holmes was sitting at the kitchen table in front of his microscope, on his lap with a wide, excited smile sat Rebecca, her eyes glued to the monitor of Sherlock's netbook which was connected to said microscope.
"And what's that?" she pointed at something John couldn't see.
"Ah these are legs… but they don't only use them to move around like us but they also can smell and breathe with them and they use them to look for food."
"They can do all of this with their legs? But doesn't that make them a lot better than us? They can do all this stuff with their legs and we need hands and noses and eyes and everything to do the same."
Sherlock smiled at John over Rebecca's head who hadn't noticed the new presence yet.
"Ah well, that's a good question. It makes them pretty intelligent because it fits the way they live but with us, I guess it wouldn't be very convenient if we would have to breathe and smell with our legs."
The girl made a thoughtful noise while looking at whatever they were examining with the microscope.
"No I guess that's true we would smell a lot of things that are close to the ground that aren't nice like dog poop and these fence things on the streets where the rain water goes in."
"Manholes?"
"Yes, that!"
John couldn't help but giggle at this conversation.
"Good morning you two!" he made his presence known to Rebecca.
"Good morning!" she chirped in her clear voice and smiled at John.
"How about breakfast?" he asked and was rewarded with a big smile and an enthusiastic nod.
After their breakfast, Rebecca was content with watching some telly until her aunt arrived while John and Sherlock stayed in the kitchen.
"John, this kid is a jewel! Seriously this morning alone she asked a lot more intelligent questions than Anderson did over the past years I know him."
That made John laugh out loud.
"Not a big surprise there but maybe you'll be lucky and we'll meet her again in the future at some crime scene where you can work with someone you actually approve of before you retire from the business!"
"Ah that certainly would be a novelty." Sherlock sighed. "But I do have a complaint… why did you take pictures? Was this really necessary?"
The doctor looked up, a fond smile on his lips.
"You have no idea how cute you two looked and I thought Mummy would appreciate a recent picture of her son."
Sherlock's eyes went wide at that.
"Oh please don't, I'll never hear the end of that one." He whispered horrified.
"We'll see!" John grinned with a quick kiss.
Soon after Rebecca's aunt arrived together with Mycroft and Lestrade.
The flat felt a bit empty afterwards but Sherlock made sure to keep John on his toes, intent on sharing his story about the case and getting his reward.