Chapter 2

John Watson was a military doctor. He could handle any amount of armed soldiers simply working "under orders" or any amount of bullet wounds, but the one thing he could not handle was babies. They never seemed to stop crying! No matter what he tried, he simply could not get little Shirley to calm down. Mary had called him in hopes that maybe he could hush the child after her many fruitless attempts. He was not doing any better himself. As he bounced the baby up and down, he tried hard to think of any way to secure the situation. His mind kept going to the same solution no matter how hard he tried to think of any other way. He supposed this was due to him relying on this individual in any hard situation though most of them tended to be life or death. Yes, his highly rational mind was telling him quite irrationally that Sherlock might be able to help. It seemed ridiculous! Sherlock could barely deal with adults, how could he deal with a crying child? John had run out of options though. He shifted Shirley's full weight onto his left arm and reached into his right pants pocket for his mobile. He scrolled through the rather short contacts list and selected the most used number. After seven rings, John decided to give up. Sherlock was not answering. It was not the most unusual thing to happen, but it definitely was a bit odd. After all, Sherlock did not have a case. He should be in his flat driving Mrs. Hudson crazy with his shouts of bored. So where was the elusive genius? I should go check on him, thought John. He put a pacifier in Shirley's mouth and handed her to Mary while yelling a rushed apology. Grabbing his coat, Dr. John Watson ran out the door to fetch a cab to 221B Baker Street.