A/N: Hello, lovelies, welcome back.

And WanderingSoprano, you are probably the only reason I managed to finish this chapter. Thank you for being so encouraging in your reviews.

"We're going to be laying ground rules for Samantha staying with us."

John was surprised to hear this, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps because the detective never struck him as someone who really followed rules, let alone make his own.

"Sure." John agreed immediately anyway.

Sherlock seemed surprised. "You're submitting? Just like that?"

"You know what she needs better than I do," John told him. "What are the rules?"

Sherlock looked away. "I know very few of her new triggers, but I know all of her old ones. This experience will probably cause a relapse of some kind."

That made sense, though that wasn't the kind of rule list John had been expecting. "What should I avoid?"

"Talking about bills, first off," Sherlock told him. "While Sam is in our care, Mycroft assured me that housing will be entirely covered by him."

"Why?"

"Because it has to do with his niece's well-being during her recovery," Sherlock responded immediately. "And I'm off cases for a while. That's another thing we will not be bringing up. I've already discussed it with Lestrade."

John nodded.

Sherlock continued. "Samantha has hypersensitivity, so my experiments will be kept to a minimum. You're welcome. But this also means you can't get offended if she turns down anything."

"What do you mean by anything?" John asked. He wasn't going to be offended – Sherlock rarely accepted anything John offered him – but he wanted to be prepared for what sort of things she was sensitive of.

"Food, mostly, but also drinks on occasion and blankets or pillows. The reason you are not allowed to get offended is that I told her I wouldn't."

John felt there was a story behind that, and curiosity got the better of him. "What happened?"

"Cranberry juice," Sherlock admitted with a smirk. "She associates the smell of cranberry juice with an alcohol she was exposed to as a child. I offered her some – because it was fruit juice and that's what children drink – and she never told me. Nearly made herself sick trying to drink it, and we had a discussion about it."

The doctor nodded again, understanding. "What else?"

"There is one way she is similar to me, John, and that is simply that there are times during which she will not speak. I don't know how comfortable she is with you, yet, but take her silence as reassurance that she trusts you."

"Why?"

"She doesn't automatically feel a pressure to uphold social niceties." Sherlock elaborated.

John observed that Sherlock knew a lot about Samantha and wondered why he was surprised; she was his daughter, after all. "Anything else?"

What followed was a precise list of dos and don'ts outfitted with reasons and explanations so that John understood the situations behind each. This, Sherlock's intent, was so that John could make informed decisions when interacting with Samantha.

"A final thing, John, if you don't mind."

John looked at the detective. "I'll need to write these down if you have any more."

"No, just… thank you." Sherlock's voice was full of genuine gratitude.

John smirked at his flatmate. "You're welcome, Sherlock."

Sherlock woke up to the sound of the shower starting. Due to his room being the one directly next to the bathroom, this wasn't unusual; whenever John got ready for work, the sound of the shower running would inevitably wake him up. It was no fault of John's, only the thinness of the walls.

But John had gotten home late the night before and didn't have to work this morning.

And it was 4:53 a.m.

He took a breath and threw off his blanket to get out of bed. In the darkness of his room, he fumbled for his dressing gown before putting it on crookedly and opening his door.

He saw his bare feet illuminated by the light coming from underneath the bathroom door as he treaded through the hall and into the sitting room. The street lights out the window shone a light on all of the obstacles in between Sherlock and his laptop on the table, so he had little difficulty going that far.

He lifted the lid of the computer and powered it on, squinting at the brightness of the screen until his eyes adjusted. He browsed through John's blog, looking at the aging posts before drifting through the comments absentmindedly, his eyes lingering on the clock more than the words.

It was nearly 5:30 before the shower turned off, and it was almost six before the door opened.

Samantha walked into the hall, drying her hair with a towel. She stopped halfway into the living room, all of her movements stilling. Sherlock looked up at her from his computer. "Good morning."

Sam didn't say anything, simply continuing farther into the room to approach him. She sat in the chair opposite, draping the towel around her shoulders and pulling her hair to rest on top of it.

"How long have you been up?" Samantha asked him.

Sherlock shrugged. "Only a few minutes."

As she had no reason to think he was lying, she believed him.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No." Sherlock realized he was doing quite a bit of lying. "I couldn't sleep."

Sam crossed her arms and melted further into her chair. "Me neither."

He watched her for a moment as she stared at the tabletop mutely. "Do you mind if I turn on a light?"

It seemed to take a moment before she processed his words. "No, you can."

Sherlock stood from his chair in did just that, the light of the room being brighter than he'd thought it would be, but not as bright as the computer screen. Sam still squinted though.

Neither of them spoke again until a few minutes after Sherlock retook his seat, and then it was he who said something. "How long have you been awake?"

"I didn't look at the clock when I woke up, so I don't really know. Probably not too long."

Sherlock hummed, forcing his eyes to look away from her so he wasn't staring. She would notice him staring. She always did.

Then Sam sighed, drawing his attention. She looked exhausted, and when she closed her eyes he could see the dark bruises underneath them. No one should look that tired upon waking up. Though, he supposed, she'd already been up for at least an hour.

"Can I ask you something?" Sam's voice was hesitant.

Sherlock closed the computer to show he was giving her his full attention.

And still, she paused as if waiting for something. "What's going to happen now?"

Sherlock tried to understand the context of her question. "Do you mean with where you will be staying? Or with…" Sherlock paused, realizing they hadn't discussed the subject at all since she'd woken up in the hospital.

And yet she knew exactly where that sentence would have finished. "Both."

"Oh." He thought about it. "Well, let's give your grandmother a call this afternoon, and you can talk to her and all of that. As for the latter…" He really didn't want to tell her. "He's vanished. Without a trace. Mycroft has people looking, but there's no way it will be a quick process."

"Are you helping?" She asked, obviously curious about it.

Sherlock shook his head. "I'm not allowed." At her confused expression, he elaborated. "I already asked if I could and the answer was no. My judgement is a little clouded in that area."

He really had tried asking his brother to keep him in the loop. Allow him to help. But, after a rather heated argument, they had both agreed on the end result.

Sam was nodding as if she knew all of what had transpired.

After a moment, Sam asked, "What are your plans for the day?"

"I just finished a rather large case, so I'm currently on holiday," Sherlock told her. "I'll probably read or something."

Sam took a moment to be amused before her thoughts drifted away again to something apparently less pleasant. It was moments like this in which Sherlock wished he could read minds. Sam's had always been a little unpredictable. He could make a guess, sure, but he hated guessing. Sometimes he had to settle with just not knowing.

"What about John?"

"He took the day off, too," Sherlock answered. "He'll do the shopping later."

"How do you know?" Sam asked.

"He always does the shopping on his days off," Sherlock told her. "I never do, so he does whenever he has the time."

"You still don't like stores?" Sam asked.

"They're horrible," Sherlock confirmed. "There's just so much stupid in one building – I don't know how anyone could work there. They deserve to make more than they do, no doubt."

Sam laughed a little under her breath. "That's what happens when you deal with the public."

Sherlock smirked, recalling that she worked with the public all of the time at the library back in the U.S. And apparently that's where he mind went, too, because her eyes suddenly widened.

"Everyone thinks I'm dead?"

"I'm not sure who your grandmother has contacted," Sherlock said.

"So Amelia might not know I'm okay," Sam spoke quietly. "I'd better call her, too."

"Do you have her number?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"Memorized," Sam admitted, tapping the side of her head with her index finger. "Hers, yours, and Grandma's."

Samantha had never been good with numbers, but memorization she could always do. Sherlock was quite proud of that fact. "What would you like for breakfast?" He asked.

Sam blinked. "I'm not hungry."

"Not now, I was thinking after John wakes up."

Her eyebrows lifted. "You're going to make him cook?"

Sherlock tried not to be offended. "No, I was going to invite him with us."

"Invite him where?"

"There's a place a short way from here. They make amazing eggs."

A/N: Thanks for reading! I've never minded reviews (hint, hint)

Also, if there's anyone in particular you might want to see Samantha interact with / be introduced to, let me know. Do remember that this will also probably involve the reveal that Sherlock has adopted a child. That could be pretty funny and/or dramatic. For the sake of not being bombarded with questions, there are only eight people in England that know about it and that is Sherlock and Samantha, John, Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft, the Holmes parents, and Moriarty. They've literally told no one else. I'm pretty sure. I'll double check.

Anyway, have a day that isn't the worst.

~Signature