Thanks for my one reviewer and follower/favorite-er! I know this story may be confusing if you haven't read the other one. Basically, Addie is Sherlock and Mycroft's little sister who they thought was dead for the past 5 years. Then she came back. In this story, now she's been de-aged to a four-year-old. Basically sums it up. So, here's Chapter 2. Hope you enjoy! Feel free to give feedback if you want :)
Chapter 2
Milk only satisfied Addie for so long and she started getting restless.
"Do you have any toys?" she asked.
"I'm afraid not kiddo," John answered.
"What would we do with toys Addie? We're grown men," Sherlock said.
Addie shrugged.
"What about puzzles? I love puzzles!" she said excitedly.
"Nope. Not unless you count the crossword puzzle in the newspaper John's reading."
Addie wrinkled her nose at the idea. "That's no fun."
"How 'bout some books?" she asked again.
"None that have any pictures," Sherlock replied.
"Hey! I can read! Mycof and you taught me last summer, 'member?"
"Yes, well, even then I highly doubt we have anything at your reading level."
"Then what am I s'posed to do?"
"You could always watch telly," John suggested. Addie shot him an 'are you serious?' glare. "Or…not."
"Your flat is so boring!" Addie whined.
"You could take a nap," Sherlock said.
"I don't take naps Sherlock. I'm not a baby!"
"Well, suit yourself then. Have fun being bored," Sherlock said.
John, knowing the dangers of a bored Holmes attempted to come to the rescue. "Addie, what about drawing? I can get you some paper and a pen. Draw Sherlock a picture," John suggested.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. Addie seemed to be contemplating this. She didn't especially like drawing but seeing it was her only option she decided it was better than nothing.
"Alright. I guess that'll do," she answered.
John, satisfied that he'd averted a potential disaster, went to go find some paper and a pen. He brought the materials to Addie and set them on the living room table.
"Thank you," Addie said, walking over to it. "Can I draw a picture for you too Mr. John?"
He smiled at her, "Of course. And if it's really good, it might even make the fridge."
Addie looked at him confused. "Why would you put my picture in the fridge Mr. John? Papers don't go bad."
John heard Sherlock snort from the kitchen. He leaned down to explain to her. "No Addie, not in the fridge. On the fridge. That's what mummies and daddies do when they get a nice picture. They put it on the fridge for everyone to see because they're proud of it."
Addie's eyes lit up. "So if my picture is really, really good you'll put it on the fridge? So everyone can see how good it is?"
"Yes. And they'll be so impressed by your amazing drawing skills. Do you think you could do a good enough picture to make the fridge?"
Addie enthusiastically nodded her head and set to work on her masterpiece. John smiled and stood up to walk back to the kitchen.
20 minutes had passed without a peep from anyone. Sherlock experimenting, John updating his blog, and Addie drawing in the next room. John's legs were going numb so he decided to stretch them and check on Addie at the same time.
He walked into the living room and saw Addie passed out on the rug next to the table, the pen still in her hand. He took it and set it down then gently lifted her and placed her on the couch. He threw Sherlock's coat over her and went to clean up her mess.
He stopped when he saw her picture. It was a drawing of a small flat, resembling their own with five stick figures standing inside. An elderly woman held a tea pot and the words 'Mrs. Hudsun' were scrawled underneath it. Next came a man with an umbrella, 'Mycof' written next to it. Addie had drawn herself in between Mycroft and a tall figure with a scarf which she labeled 'Shurlok,' her stick figure's hands holding both of theirs. Next to Sherlock was a figure in a patterned jumper who he could only assume was himself. Sure enough Addie had written 'Mr. Jawn' underneath it. He smiled at the drawing and glanced at the big title scrawled across the top: 'My familee.' John decided it was most definitely fridge worthy.
Addie woke up on the couch, not remembering how she got there. She guessed she must have fallen asleep while drawing. She hoped her picture wasn't lost. She did her best work on it.
She sat up to go find it when she realized she needed the toilet. Two cups of milk before nap time wasn't a good idea. The thing was Addie had no idea where the bathroom was. She tried looking for John but he wasn't anywhere to be found. She glanced into the kitchen and saw Sherlock still absorbed in his experiment.
Addie padded over to him and tugged on his jacket. Sherlock didn't respond to the tugging.
"Sherlock?" she asked, tugging more insistently.
Still no movement.
"Sherlock? I need to go potty!"
"Addie, do refrain from childish words, it is not becoming," Sherlock finally responded.
"Ok. I need to go to the bafroom, Sherlock." She said.
"Well then, go. Why are you telling me?"
"I dunno where it is," Addie stated.
"Then go find it. It's the room with the sink and the toilet."
"Sherloooock!" she whined, bouncing and crossing her legs. "Help me find it!"
Sherlock gave a long-suffering sigh and looked at her.
"Please! I really gotta go!" More bouncing and whining.
Sherlock rolled his eyes then got up to lead her to the bathroom. "Here it is. Now you know and now you won't have to bother me about it anymore," he said, crossing his arms. "I'm going back to the kitchen now," he said as he turned to go down the hall.
"Wait! You're not gonna wait for me?"
"Addie, is this really necessary?"
She turned the puppy eyes on full force and he caved. "Fine. But hurry up. My frog leg's nearly fermented."
Addie disappeared into the bathroom and Sherlock waited outside for her. He heard the toilet flush but he heard no water running from the sink. He knocked on the door.
"Addie? Are you alright in there?"
"Uh huh…" The door opened and she appeared in the doorway, trousers unbuttoned and hands not washed. "I couldn't button my trousers. And I can't reach the sink."
Sherlock inwardly groaned. Children are so irritating. He bent down to do the button for her then lifted her to sit on his knee so she could wash her hands.
"Better?" he asked.
Addie nodded and took his hand in hers to walk back to the kitchen.
"Where's Mr. John?"
"He's at work."
"He's got a job too?"
"Yes. He's a doctor," Sherlock replied.
"Cool!"
"Yes, very 'cool'."
Suddenly Addie gasped and jumped off the stool. Sherlock grabbed her before she could fall and give him a heart attack.
"My picture! It's on the fridge! That means it's really, really good!"
"Yes, lovely," Sherlock replied, uninterested.
"Did you see it Sherlock? Do you like it? I drawed my family. See, that's Mrs. Hudson holding the tea, cuz she likes to make tea. Then there's Mycof wif his umbrella. There's me in the middle. And there's you wif your scarf and then Mr. John next to you!"
"As fascinating as this is, I have work to do," Sherlock said.
Addie's face fell into a frown. "You don't like it do you? All you care about are your stupid 'spearments!"
"I really don't have time for this Addie. Go whine somewhere else please."
"Mr. John liked it. He put it on the fridge cuz he's proud of it," said Addie as she stuck her tongue out at him.
"Well then, good for Mr. John," Sherlock answered.
"You're mean!" Addie yelled before running to the living room to sulk on the couch.
Sherlock ignored her.
When John returned from work he found a pouty Addie on the couch playing with Sherlock's scarf and a clearly-hadn't-moved-from-his-spot, Sherlock at the table.