anonymous asked: Baby Watson gets sick and Sherlock tries to diagnose her.


"Scarlet fever."

John sighed and palmed his face. "No, Sherlock, I already told you, she doesn't have the right symptoms for scarlet fever. Mary and I are taking Isabelle to the paediatrician in the morning, so please for the love of God take Molly and go back home. We can handle it."

Sherlock had dragged Molly out of bed and over to the Watson home after John had casually mentioned, during the course of a conversation about a case, that Isabelle was running a fever.

Sherlock scowled at his friend and held his goddaughter closer to his chest in a protective motion. "I'm telling you it's scarlet fever, John, and you need to get her on antibiotics as soon as possible. Waiting until the morning is a ridiculous waste of time. Why make Izzy suffer for one second longer than she has to? Yes, the paracetamol is holding the fever down, but the other sym…what?" he asked, looking around in puzzlement as he realized the other adults in the room were staring at him.

"You called her 'Izzy', Sherlock," Molly explained from her seat on the sofa next to Mary. The two of them wore matching grins. "You said nicknames were ridiculous and explained to us in great detail why you weren't going to ever use one, and yet just now you called your goddaughter 'Izzy' instead of Isabelle."

Sherlock looked flustered, then straightened his posture and looked down his nose at the three grinning — yes, John had joined in the idiotic smirk brigade — people sharing the room. "Regardless of what I call her, my goddaughter is in need of proper medication. Considering that I am the only non-medical professional in this room, I am frankly astonished that I am also the only one exhibiting any measure of concern for Iz…Isabelle's condition." Nose in the air, he marched out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Mary, John and Molly exchanged glances, then burst into laughter. A half hour later Sherlock finally deigned to rejoin them, silently showing John and Mary the rosy red rash spread across Isabelle's tiny chest. Of course he was right, the great git, John thought sourly as he threw on his coat and readied the car for the trip the A&E.

But it wouldn't surprise him at all if Izzy had developed the rash just to prove her beloved godfather right.