Chapter Four- Brownies.
Alex Lestrade-Holmes woke up to a dull and grey Saturday morning in the middle of April. She was now ten years old but according to her father's, she acted more like a teenager with every passing day. She was still the best friend of John Watson's daughter, Rosie and the two were, if possible, more inseparable than ever. Alex sighed as she rolled out of her bed. The house was quiet. Daniel, Sally and Johnny had all moved out. Daniel was at Oxford University, studying History and Politics, Johnny had joined the Royal Air Force and was living at his training camp and Sally was at Surrey University doing Criminology. Keira was still at home, but she was in discussions with Mycroft who wanted to help her get a flat. She was currently playing Eponine in Les Mis and finishing late. She was always worried about disturbing Bertie, who was now seven, and Alex when she came in, so she really needed her own place. Alex walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain to see fog covering London. She sighed again and resigned herself to getting breakfast.
Putting her dressing gown on, she wandered out onto the landing. Alex now occupied the attic room that had been her brothers. She liked it up here. It was like having her own apartment. She had an en-suite bathroom and her bedroom was quite large. She had a double bed and an armchair. She was an avid reader and one of her walls was taken up completely by bookshelves. She walked down the stair quietly. She knew Keira would still be asleep. She poked her head into her little brother's room and found it empty. She then went down the final flight of stairs and walked into the kitchen. Bertie was sat at the table, his books open, doing his homework, Greg sat next to him. He looked up and smiled at his daughter.
"Morning Alex." He said, "How are you?"
"Good ta." She replied, fetching a yogurt from the cupboard and joining them at the table.
"Good." He paused, "What are you doing today?"
She shook her head and shrugged, "Nothing… I don't know…"
"Have you done your homework?" Greg asked innocently.
Alex gave him a look that said, "Are you really asking me that?" and Greg smiled, "I take that as a yes then?"
Alex nodded, "I always do my homework the day I get it."
"Good girl." Replied Lestrade.
"Have you got the day off?" asked Alex, hopefully, it was very rare that her Dad had a Saturday off.
Greg shook his head sadly, "Unfortunately not." He took a sip of his coffee, "I'm going in this afternoon."
"And Dad's in Brussels on some European conference thing…"
"He's helping in the Brexit negotiations." Chimed in Bertie.
"So, the question remains, what are we going to do? We can't stay here by ourselves."
"Alex can't look after me by herself," Bertie said, "She has to be thirteen or older."
Both Alex and Greg looked at him.
"Where did you read that?" asked Greg
"Uncle Sherlock told me." Bertie said, putting down his pencil, "I was round at Baker Street after school one day, when Alex and Rosie had dance and you and Dad were at work, and I asked why Alex couldn't look after me and Uncle Sherlock told me." He explained at top speed.
Alex looked at her Dad and smiled, "He's a Holmes alright."
"And a Lestrade. There's nothing in the law that says Alex has to be thirteen to look after you. It's when Dad and I feel comfortable enough to leave the two of you on your own and right now, that's not going to happen." He stood up.
"Where are you going?" asked Alex, looking confused.
"To call Sherlock. Anyone fancy a trip to Baker Street?"
An hour later, both kids were dressed, day bags were packed, and they were on the way to Baker Street. It was just as quick to walk as it was to get the tube, and Greg had a feeling they would be indoors all day. Bertie ran on ahead, pretending he was a plane, carrying his trusty bunny 'Cottontail' in his hand. Alex held on to her father's hand, talking to him and enjoying being in his company. When they reached Baker Street, Bertie ran up the steps to knock on the door when Alex saw Rosie and John Watson walking down the street towards them.
"ROS!" she shouted, running towards her.
"AL!" Rosie called back, also running at her friend. They hugged each other on the pavement.
"You saw each other yesterday!" John commented, amused.
Alex rolled her eyes and linked arms with Rosie, walking towards the door.
"Uncle Sherlock called Dad and said he had a case, so Dad brought me here. I had no idea you were coming."
"Dad's in Brussel's on some Government business…"
"Brexit!" called Bertie, having just banged the knocker.
"… and Dad's at work this afternoon. So, he brought us here too."
"Which means Molly will be looking after us!" said Rosie, excitedly.
"Oooh, d'you reckon we could show her our 'danse des petits cygnes' that we've been learning?"
"I should think so. D'you think she'll let us do some baking?"
Greg laughed, "Girls, don't forget Aunt Molly and Uncle Sherlock have a toddler and a three-month-old baby now. Molly isn't as free as she used to be."
"Yeah, but it's Molly." Replied Rosie, "She always finds a way."
Sherlock opened the door and Bertie rushed at him, almost bowling his Uncle over.
Sherlock chuckled and lifted his nephew into the air. The events at Sherrinford a little over three years ago had left their mark on Sherlock who had become determined to see life in a new way and cherished his relationship with Molly.
"Hello young Bertie. And Cottontail too! What mischief have you been getting yourselves into?"
"It's only 10 in the morning, Uncle Sherlock, I haven't had time to get into mischief! He grinned.
Sherlock grinned at his nephew. "Oh, that's plenty of time. Why my friend Victor and I used to…" and he carried Bertie inside, and the rest of the party followed.
The exterior of Baker Street hadn't changed much since Rosie and Alex were young. It was still the same layout with the two chairs facing each other and a sofa along the back wall. The animal head still had the headphones on, the skull was on the mantlepiece and the ever-growing pile of correspondence was on the mantlepiece pinned with a penknife. The only changes that were noticeable were the additions of an extra chair next to Sherlock's, a crib in the back corner and the light levels in the room. The kitchen was cleaner, and Sherlock was no longer allowed to use it as a lab, save for doing experiments with Rosie, Alex, Bertie and Christopher.
Alex and Rosie ran over to the sofa and clambered onto it, still chatting away. John went and sat in his chair and Greg loitered by the door. Molly emerged from hers and Sherlock's bedroom, carrying their baby daughter, while Christopher followed behind. Christopher looked a lot like his Dad with jet black curly hair and pale skin, but he had his mother's eyes. Lily, the baby in Molly's arms, had a streak of red hair, which was apparently a trait in the Holmes family, with Mycroft's hair having a coppery tint in it, despite being dark brown.
"Hello Molly. Hi Chris." He said crouching down to his nephew's height, "How are you?"
Christopher peered out from behind his mother's legs and smiled, "Hi Unca Greg. I fine. Mummy was reading me and Lily a stowy!"
"Oh that's cool, which one was it?" he asked.
"Wittle Red Widing Hood!" he smiled, "I like that one."
"Is it your favourite?" Greg asked, regretting the decision to crouch down. He wasn't as young as he used to be.
Christopher shook his head, "My favourite stowies are the one's that Daddy tells. He doesn't use a book. He just makes them up, like magic!"
Greg smiled and looked at Sherlock interacting with his son. Christopher looked over as well and then looked up at his mother.
"You can go play with your daddy and cousin if you want to." She smiled, "You don't need to ask me."
Christopher ran over to play with the others and Greg was relieved to be able to stand up again.
"Is it alright if I leave Bertie and Alex with you? I didn't realise Sherlock had a case or I would have taken them to the office with me."
Molly smiled, "It's fine Greg, honestly. Lily will go down for a nap soon, Bertie can look after Chris and I think the girls will be more than happy to do some baking with me."
Greg smiled, "Just a heads up, I think they want to show you one of their dances that they've learnt at ballet recently. It's not too long but it is complex, and I think they are proud that they've learnt it."
Molly smiled, "It'll be fine."
"Thanks Molly, you're a saint!" and he kissed her on the cheek. Then he called to his children, "Alex, Bertie, I've got to go!"
Alex climbed off the sofa and ran to say goodbye to her Dad. She gave him a hug and gave him a kiss. Bertie ran over next and did the same. Lestrade gave one last hug to Molly, looked back at his children and left the flat.
A couple of hours later and it was just Molly, two ten-year olds, a six-year-old and a two-year-old. Christopher and Bertie were watching cartoons and playing with the superhero figures Bertie had brought from home. Molly, Alex and Rosie were in the kitchen attempting to make brownies. All that had happened so far was a mess. Rosie had flour in her hair and down her front and Alex had chocolate smudged on her nose and cheeks. You couldn't see the side under the flour and cocoa powder. But the smiles and laughter were genuine and that's all Molly cared about.
"Now," she said, reaching to the hob for the melted chocolate and butter, "I'm going to pour this into the bowl with the flour because it's hot. Rosie, you can stir first while Lexie measures out the sugar." She handed Rosie a wooden spoon and Alex a bag of sugar. She then poured the chocolatey concoction into the bowl and Rosie began to stir.
"Aunty Molly?" asked Alex as she weighed out the sugar
"Yes Lexie?" replied Molly, trying to keep an eye on both girls.
"Can we put marshmallows in our brownies please?"
'But of course, we can! I think I kept some in the cupboard over here…" said Molly, reaching into the baking cupboard. But just as she grabbed the bag with the marshmallows in, there was an almighty crash followed by a small "oops."
Molly turned around to see Alex holding an empty bag of sugar and the scales and weighed out sugar all over the side.
Molly sighed and smiled. She shook her head and walked over to Alex.
"Lexie Lestrade-Holmes, how are you a fantastic dancer? You are one of the clumsiest girls I know!"
Alex grinned.
"To be honest Aunty Molly, I don't know either!"
"Something smells good in here!" came the voice of Greg Lestrade from the living room, half an hour later. He walked into the kitchen followed by Sherlock and John
"Daddy!" both girls cried and ran to their respective fathers. Sherlock went to Molly and greeted her with a kiss.
"What happened to you?" asked John, looking at the amount of flour in his daughter's hair. "I thought Rosamund Watson had light brown hair, not white!" Rosie giggled
"What's on your cheeks?" Greg asked Alex
"Chocolate." She replied as if this was a perfectly normal thing to have on one's face.
"Looks like you had fun!" smiled Sherlock, wrapping his arm round Molly's waist.
"Daddy, daddy, come see what Christy and I built!" Bertie ran into the kitchen and practically dragged Lestrade into the living room.
"Did you show Molly your dance?" asked John.
Rosie and Alex shook their heads.
"Mind doing it for all of us?" asked Sherlock.
Rosie Watson looked at her best friend. "What d'you reckon Holmes?"
Alex grinned, "But of course Watson."
"On pointe or in socks?"
"Did you bring your shoes?" asked Alex
"Rosie hasn't let those shoes out of her sight since she got them!" John smiled, kissing Rosie's hair and then regretting it immediately as he got a mouthful full of flour.
"On pointe?" asked Rosie.
Alex nodded and the girls ran off to wash and get ready.
