Notes
Thank you so much for your kind response to the first few chapters and for those of you who left reviews, favourited and followed! I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying it!
If there is anything that you wish to see Sherlock and Evie get up to, let me know and I'll do my best to write a chapter about it in the future. :) xx
Chapter 4
Sherlock groaned as he heard a loud crash from the kitchen. He'd been emailing clients from his laptop in his bedroom and had left Evie watching some pathetic children's TV. Sherlock didn't see this as at all educational or mind stimulating for her but much to his distaste Mrs. Hudson had advised that this is what 'normal' people do and he should let her watch it. He'd just solved a rather unusual case in less than 20 minutes involving a flying lawnmower and an amputated arm and was about to start another until he was rudely interrupted. "Evie, if you've knocked my test tubes over again…" he shouted before adding "I swear to god…"
He hurried displeased down the corridor and froze at the scene before him. Evie had indeed knocked his latest experiment over and was standing frightened with a broken glass tube in her hand. "For goodness sake! I've already had to restart this experiment for the second time because of your carelessness." Sherlock didn't waste any time before scolding her. "I told you not to touch it!" Evie dropped her eyes to the floor and Sherlock could tell she was trying her utmost best to avoid his angry stare. "Don't move." He commanded pointing a finger at her as he noted the shards of glass surrounding her. "You'll cut your feet."
She scrunched her face up, eyes slowly pooling with tears. This was when Sherlock noticed. He could now see the pained squint at the edge of her bright green eyes. It was the same look John showed when injured. As much as Sherlock hated to admit it, he couldn't always keep John Watson safe. Although he'd be damned if he didn't try.
Sherlock stepped warily towards the small girl he'd grown to quite enjoy having around, avoiding the smashed glass that had fanned across the kitchen floor. Bending down in front of her he took the test tube carefully from her tiny hand and placed it on the table behind him. "This is why I tell you not to touch my things. I told you for a reason, Evie." He frowned looking into her teary eyes. "Where does it hurt?" he placed his thumb and forefinger on her chin, gently twisting her head to check for any injuries on her face. His eyes widened in horror, across her temple was a blood seeping scratch about 2 inches long. He could see it wasn't deep enough to cause alarm but still wasn't sure how to handle the situation and Doctor John Watson wasn't back until tomorrow afternoon. "Mrs Hudson!" He yelled causing Evie to jump rather dramatically and therefore pushing her already heightened emotions out into the open. A loud wail hammered rather suddenly into Sherlock's eardrums startling him. His hand dropped from her tiny chin and he held them both up in surrender. "Sorry. Please stop, I don't know how to make it better." Her eyebrows were scrunched in a deep baby frown, eyes tightly closed and her grabby hands reached out to him.
"Sherlock…" Mrs Hudson entered the room confusion sweeping across her features upon seeing the glass. "What have you done to the poor child?" He looked helplessly up at her. "I don't know how to make her stop. She's cut her face." Mrs Hudson stepped closer careful not to embed the glass into her own feet. "Looks like she wants you to hold her, dear." She found the dustpan and brush in the cupboard and begun to sweep up the mess, her 'not your landlady' comment forgotten in this precise moment. "Sherlock." She looked at him with concern noticing he hadn't moved and the panic in his eyes. "You see injuries far worse than this all the time. You know she's okay, stop overreacting." He met her gaze. "They're rarely caused by me, Mrs. Hudson, and if they are they always deserve it. I would never hurt a child." He tugged at his hair, guilt washing over him. "This isn't anyone's fault. Children are often injuring themselves. Take her into the living room and we'll take look at her face." She replied continuing to clear the mess.
Evie, with her hands still outstretched towards Sherlock begun to stamp her little feet in frustration at not receiving the attention she desired. He quickly swept her up into his arms, horrified that she might step on a piece of glass and injure herself further, therefore prolonging the head-thumping racket she was making.
Much to Sherlock's relief, her cries instantly settled as she burrowed her little red face into his shirt, tear-stained cheeks creating small damp patches across his chest. "It's okay, you're okay now." He wiped his thumb gently over the wound emanating a small whimper from Evie. "Sorry." He pulled his hand away. "Mrs. Hudson will clean this up and then we can watch that pig programme you like on the telly." Evie's eyes lit up at this comment. " Peppa!" she grinned a watery smile her eyes still red and puffy. "Yeah." he replied his hand involuntarily rubbing soft circles on her back. "That's it. Peppa the pig."
Once Mrs. Hudson had cleaned the wound and placed a dressing over Evie's temple, she waved her departure and continued to watch Eastenders in her downstairs flat. Sherlock fetched a beaker of warm milk for the small child and a fluffy blanket from John's room, which he and Evie climbed under once settled comfortably onto the sofa. Much to his disfavour, as promised he switched the channel over to Nick Jr. which was luckily showing Peppa Pig and Evie squeaked her seal of approval clapping her hands excitedly.
"Yes, yes…" Sherlock mumbled with fake enthusiasm "I know, how wonderful." Evie stared up at him, a small smile on her face and he couldn't help but smile back ruffling her cute curls. She snuggled into his side, pulling the blanket up closer to her face and rubbing small fists into her tired eyes.
He couldn't wait for John to arrive home and meet her, they were going to get along brilliantly he could tell. John understood ordinary people a lot more than Sherlock ever would and therefore he would be able to handle and treat Evie better than he could and the thought of the little girl having the most perfect father figure Sherlock could ever hope for made him extremely happy. John Watson was the greatest, kindest and most thoughtful man Sherlock had ever had the good fortune of knowing and for some strange reason, a reason that Sherlock would never understand had chosen the detective to be his best friend. Evie sat up with a giggle, jogging Sherlock from his pleasant thoughts. She was looking up at him with big eyes, a goofy grin on her face whilst pointing at the television. "Dinosaur." She laughed as George Pig roared holding the green soft toy and splashing it into the bath. Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle at the innocence of it. "That's right. Well done." He touched her cheek softly with the back of his fingers, guilty that his experiment caused her harm. "It'll be better when John gets home. I promise." And that night they both slept soundly in the living room, Evie in a warm embrace against the detective's chest and children's TV softly lulling them both into dreamland.