Summary: John threatens to derail the Sherlolly train.
Chapter 5: Uncle Mickey
"Rosie, please." John ran a hand through his hair in frustration. His sweet little angel would not stop fussing in her crib. "Can't you be a good girl for Daddy and just go to sleep?"
He lifted his daughter and held her to his chest, swaying gently. He began humming "Hey Jude," which usually quieted her but didn't seem to be working this time.
"Please, sweet pea," he cooed. "Daddy has to go to the clinic sooo early tomorrow, he needs his rest as much as you do. Don't worry, Auntie Martha will look after you in the morning and then Auntie Molly will be here in the afternoon." John hated imposing so much on his friends, but what choice did he have? It was all very well for Sherlock to take cases for free, not a care in the world, but he had to earn a living. And there was no way in hell he'd leave his daughter with Harry.
Or with Sherlock, for that matter.
The consulting detective was driving John crazy. Animated and engaged one moment, despondent and withdrawn the next. When John mentioned bringing Rosie by 221B, Sherlock actually snapped, "Oh, so now you're dumping her on me, are you!" Mrs. Hudson let out a gasp and John was understandably offended. Honestly! John had a great deal of sympathy for Sherlock – he was probably still dealing with all that his sister had put him through at Sherrinford. But that was no excuse for being a complete twat.
So when Mycroft appeared on John's doorstep, umbrella and briefcase in hand, while he was desperately trying to get Rosie to bed, John wasn't inclined to be patient.
"Whatever's going on with your brother, Mycroft, you'll have to sort it yourself. I'm washing my hands."
He carried his daughter back to her bedroom, with Mycroft in pursuit.
"Now, John – "
"No! I can't deal with his mood swings," John whispered harshly, laying Rosie down again in her crib. He began rubbing her back soothingly. "Yesterday he was even more rude and irritable than usual. I asked what was wrong and he just let out this great big hopeless sigh and retreated into his Mind Palace."
Mycroft regarded Rosie dispassionately as her blue eyes began to droop. She was age-appropriate in height and weight and seemed an amiable child, from what he could tell. Her mother had been a remarkably clever woman and her father had many fine personal qualities he could pass on – such as compassion, bravery, dogged determination – so nature and nurture were happily conjoined in the girl. Mycroft decided that, should Sherlock's efforts with Molly blossom, it would do very well for their future offspring to have Rosamund Watson as an older sister figure.
When he saw Mycroft wasn't leaving, John heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Go wait in the living room, I'll be out in a few minutes."
Mycroft settled on the couch and appraised the room. It had large windows, so good light during the day. The walls were painted neural colors. Photos from John and Mary's wedding and of the proud parents with their infant had pride of place on the mantel. Toddler's toys and clothes were scattered about. The furniture, carpet, and all surfaces were clean – John appeared to have some skill as a housekeeper. Mycroft determined that, all in all, this would be a most pleasant place for his hypothetical niece or nephew to spend time.
But for such an eventuality to come to pass, a few things had to happen first.
"Right, so what are you here for?"
"You're not going to offer me tea?"
"It's 10 bloody o'clock, Mycroft. No, I'm not offering you tea. Just say what you're going to say and get out."
"Very well. You are aware Sherlock is in love with Molly Hooper and she with him."
"Yes," snapped John impatiently. "I was there, remember?" He didn't like to think about that moment in Sherrinford, the exchange of "I love you's" that should have been private and beautiful for Sherlock and Molly but instead brought pain to them both for Eurus' twisted pleasure.
"And are you also aware that Sherlock has been trying to court Molly these past few weeks?"
"I knew he took her to lunch a while back but –" John shook his head slightly. "Are you saying they're actually dating?" Mycroft nodded. "Why didn't he say anything to me? Why didn't she?"
"They wanted to keep it quiet until the relationship is further along."
"Well… well, that's excellent. Molly is great! And she won't put up with any of Sherlock's crap." A big grin broke out on John's face. "So Sherlock Holmes is dating for real!"
Mycroft looked stern. "He is endeavoring to do so. However, it has come to my attention that babysitting your daughter is cutting significantly into Molly's afternoons, causing her to shift more to night work. This, in turn, means she is less available to Sherlock, leading to the negative moods you've recently observed. I have therefore made arrangements for Rosamund to attend Bixby's starting next week."
John looked startled. "But that's one of the best daycares in London! When Mary was pregnant, they told us not to even bother putting our names on the waiting list."
"Yes, well, consider yourself at the top of the list."
"Look, I appreciate the gesture, but there's no way I can afford Bixby's on my salary."
Mycroft calmly plucked a manila folder from his briefcase and placed it on the coffee table.
"Here are the admission papers. Rosamund's fee has already been paid for two years."
John took the proffered papers and scanned them quickly, his mouth half-open in surprise. "But…"
"Have you ever considered, John, how many lives and hundreds of thousands of pounds you've saved the British government over the years by thwarting terrorist plots and capturing arch criminals? If the Crown can give actors knighthoods for reciting Shakespeare without flubbing their lines, it can give your daughter a place at Bixby's."
"You would do this for Sherlock?"
"I believe it is in everyone's best interest, John, including your daughter's."
John considered this. "Well, thank you, Mycroft. This is going to be really good for Rosie, having a steady routine and little friends to play with. To be honest, I've been a bit worried about that. I wouldn't mind meeting a few more parents myself."
Mycroft gave his thin-lipped smile. "Then I am glad to be of service." He stood to leave. "I assume I needn't tell you not to let on you know about Sherlock and Molly just yet."
"Alright, but I hope they tell me soon. It's going to be strange being around them and pretending I don't know."
"Oh, I suspect they will inform you shortly," Mycroft replied as John opened the front door for him. "Goodnight, John," he called over his shoulder and strode to his waiting car.
John watched the black sedan drive off into the night and then slowly closed the door. He made his way to his room and began undressing for bed. So Sherlock and Molly were dating! And Mycroft Holmes of all people was playing Fairy Godfather! This would either make everyone blissfully happy or end in total disaster. John fervently hoped it would be the former.
Mycroft stared straight ahead as the car sped down the nearly deserted street. Another obstacle to his brother's romantic felicity successfully removed. He took out his phone and selected a number on speed dial. "Hello, Alicia. 'Operation Beauty and the Beast' is back on track."