John walked into the living room, cradling Mary in his arms. Sherlock was sat in his arm-chair, reading the Guardian newspaper.
"Right, Sherlock, I'm off to work, do you remember everything you need to do?"
"Yes, John. Do you take me for some kind of Idiot?"
"Most of the time, no, but when it comes to children, you aren't exactly an ideal babysitter. In fact, you aren't exactly an ideal parent."
Sherlock placed down his newspaper and stood up.
"Just hand her to me."
John hesitated for a moment, but then eventually passed Mary carefully to Sherlock placing a kiss on Mary's forehead.
"Maybe I should just hire a trained babysitter..."
"Don't be so idiotic John, no babysitter is trained, they're just pathetic little teenagers who need money for alcohol and cigarettes. Speaking of cigarettes, where are mine?"
"No cigarettes whilst Mary's in the house."
Sherlock had no reply to this, he just rolled his eyes and sat back down in his arm-chair with Mary on his lap, her little hands fiddling with his dressing gown tie.
John waited a few seconds before saying goodbye to Sherlock and walking out of the door, leaving it open as it mostly always was. As soon as John left, Sherlock left a soft sigh escape from his lips, dropping his head backwards.
"So, Mary, what should we do?" Sherlock said as he looked back down at Mary's little eyes.
"You can't talk yet, how stupid of me." Sherlock stood up, still holding Mary tightly in his arms. He looked at the clock and realised that John had only been gone three minutes. What was he going to do with so much time, alone? He walked over to Mary's playpen and placed Mary down gently inside. He straightened up and walked over to his phone. He picked it up hastily and dialled a familiar number. He knew exactly what he was going to do.
"Hello, brother. How about you come over for a little, play-date?"
Sherlock had waited half an hour for Mycroft to turn up. When he finally did, he nearly jumped out of his seat with relief, but he didn't, obviously. That would be inappropriate. He stood up from his arm-chair with a swish of his dressing gown.
"Ah, Mycroft, you're finally here."
"I never miss a 'play-date' with you, Sherlock. I've been told you get particularly overwhelmed for Cluedo, am I correct?"
"That game is inaccurate."
"So, what did you have in mind?"
Sherlock grinned.
"Operation, again?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow and sat back in his chair..
"I find this game is both entertaining and factual."
"How on earth is this game factual?"
"It's your move."
Mycroft made his moved and the game made a loud buzz.
"We need new games to play at these little play-dates of ours."
Sherlock glanced over at the clock.
"Oh, is that the time? I need to feed Mary her milk."
"John's left you to care for the poor child?"
Sherlock raised from his seat and walked over to the play-pen.
"I don't know what you are trying to imply, but I have a feeling it was meant as an insult."
Sherlock looked down into the play-pen.
"Come on, Mary, time for your-"
Alarmed, Mycroft raised from his seat and walked over to the play-pen.
"What is the matter, Sherlock?"
Mycroft now looked down at the play-pen.
"Mycroft, grab my phone, ring John, tell him to come home, NOW!"
Sherlock bent over and reached into the empty play-pen and picked up the note that was left in Mary's place. The note read:
HUSH LITTLE BABY DON'T YOU CRY, DADDY JOHN IS ALWAYS READY TO SAVE YOUR LIFE.
HUSH LITTLE BABY, JUST STAY HERE, MAMA MARY'S GONNA HOLD YOU SWEET AND DEAR.
QUIET LITTLE BABY JUST STAY STILL, SHERLOCK REALLY LOVES YOU AND ALWAYS WILL.
HUSH LITTLE BABY DON'T MAKE A SOUND, UNCLE MORIARTY'S GOT YOU NOW.
Come and play, Tower hill, just like old times.
Jim Moriarty x