Hello everyone! Thank you so much for everyone who read and a special thank you to those who reviewed! I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoy writing them!
"Right, there we are," Sherlock said quietly, setting the car seat down on the living room floor. The infant inside babbled away, quite interested in the fact that she possessed toes. He carefully lifted her from the seat and held her close, rubbing small circles on her back and bouncing her gently. "It's been four months since you were born, Lily, and I hope you've been paying attention because I need your help. This case has proven to be more difficult than I anticipated and since John is currently asleep at home (dull), you'll have to do. But first, I think an introduction is in order," Sherlock said as he carried Lily over to the mantlepiece where Billy the Skull sat, forgotten.
"This is your predecessor, Billy," he said, holding it close for her to see and smiling as she reached for it, "I used to talk to him about my cases. Then I talked to John; he drew less attention outside and people stopped asking me if I was an actor rehearsing for Hamlet. That certainly made thinking easier. But now I've got you," he bounced her lightly and smiled. "Billy, this is Lily and she will be taking over your job, effectively immediately."
"Now, as you can see," he continued, bringing Lily to the wall where he had put up maps and pictures of the most recent slew of murders to hit London, "we've got ourselves a serial killer. I'll have you know that those are my favourite; always something to look forward to. Your mother used to kill people, did you know that? Probably not. But she did. She wasn't a serial killer, though assassins are pretty close. But that is not why you're here."
Sherlock set her down in a pile of pillows and soft blankets that he had gotten ready earlier. Lily was old enough to start sitting, but she couldn't do it by herself and Sherlock needed to pace and couldn't hold her the whole time. Besides, he had always worked better with an audience.
"So. There are three people who have all been viciously stabbed in the neighbourhood of Bexley within the last week. At first I though it was a crime of passion; based on the depths of the wounds the actions had some force behind them. But three in a week? That's a serial killer. But his pattern isn't clear yet. The victims are all around the same age but that's not enough. There must be something I'm missing. What do you think, Lily?"
The girl looked up at him from the floor and held out her foot, her big toe shining with saliva in the dim light.
"No, it's a good idea, but I've already had Lestrade check into their backgrounds, friends, family. Nothing there. But, Lily, you're learning!" Sherlock clapped his hands together and smiled down at the little girl. She stopped chewing on one of the cushions long enough to giggle at the sound.
He was about to continue his monologue when his phone began to ring. "Lily, I would deduce that your parents have finally noticed your absence. Excuse me for a moment. Hello?"
"Sherlock. It. Is. Three. In. The. Morning." John's voice was dangerously quiet.
"Is it? Hadn't noticed. If it's that early, what are you calling me for?"
"What. Do. You. Think. You're. Doing. With. My. Daughter?"
"John, calm down. Lily is perfectly safe. I had a case that I needed to work through and since my goddaughter's birth, the skull hasn't really been enough. I need a person, John. Both you and Mary were asleep and Lily was still awake so I thought she could help me. I did leave a note in case you got worried."
"A note that says I've got Lily. I'll be in touch is not something that is going to- What case?" A gasp. "The Bexley murders? Sherlock, if I find out that you've been showing Lily pictures of the bodies from that case-" John's voice got quieter as he held the phone away from him and Sherlock could hear him speaking to someone else. "Sod this. Take it. No, you have got to talk to him because I can't."
"Sherlock? It's Mary," a voice said, far too cheerily for the time of night.
Sherlock felt his stomach drop and he suddenly understood the allusion to bears that people use when speaking about the protectiveness of mothers. "Mary, listen, Lily is perfectly safe. I tried to tell John but-"
"No, Sherlock. You listen. Lily is not a toy for you to play with when you're bored. She is not a piece of equipment for you to help yourself to whenever you feel like it. She is a person and, more importantly, she is my daughter. So, if you ever do anything like this again, I'll shoot you. And this time, I won't miss." The line went dead.
Sherlock spun to face the little girl, rolling his eyes as he picked her up. "I don't know what I'm going to do with your parents, Lily. They're so melodramatic. You're perfectly fine, aren't you? Of course you are. Now, do you have any ideas about this case? No?" Sherlock sighed as Lily grabbed his bottom lip, "Me either. But, do you know what else helps me think? Composing."
Sherlock set Lily back down amongst the pillows and picked up his violin. He began to play, occasionally stopping to note down a few measures of music or to look back over his shoulder at the little girl playing with her own feet, while his mind sped through the problem of the Bexley murders. By the time he had composed an entire song, Lily was asleep and he had solved the case.