Look up Josh Vietti's wake me up violin classical cover to see what Sherlock played!
When Sherlock awoke, stiff from his desk chair, he instantly looked for Lissie. Her blanket was neatly folded and he heard faint kitchen noises.
She appeared in the kitchen door then,spatula in hand. "Power's still off but I'm using your Bunsen burner and Ms. Hudson's skillet to make pancakes." Something in her eyes begged him not to mention last night.
"Thank you!" He left to dress and returned. "It's bloody cold!"
She turned back from the kitchen. "I think I've tried to turn on lights or get my music app on at least five times. I keep forgetting the electric!"
"I'll provide the music," he said grandly, picking up his violin. She clapped her hands. "Yay! Can you do all types? Classic and pop too?"
Smiling, he began to play Avicci's Wake Me Up, with Pachelbel and Bach mixed in. She waltzed back into the kitchen, flipping pancakes and setting plates on the table.
Pretty soon they were eating syrupy, thin cakes, cooked to perfection. "It's fun to cook for just two people. Hardly any work, really," Lissie admitted.
Just then the lights flickered back on, and the heat began to rattle. Cheerfully, they ate their pancakes, with no mention of last night's incidents. When Lissie bowed her head for silent prayer- she never forced him- he bowed, too. Thank you for my daughter.
Clearing dishes, washing up, everything felt better and light. They had finally discovered how much they needed each other.
A rap at the door startled them.
"'Houstons," Lissie whispered, subconsciously moving closer to him.
"Maybe it's just a client," he said reassuringly, knowing full well no client would venture out in the cold.
The saccharine sweet voice drifted in.
"Lissie! Are you ready, sweetheart?"
"Yes, Ms. Houston. Seeing as you and Mr. Houston are both here, could I talk with you all and Sherlock?"
Darting suspicious glances about them, the Houston's perched on the couch.
"You have been very kind to me, and I thank you for that. I know you have some bias against Sherlock but I love him and he is my father who, I have learned, loves me very much... "
Their faces were incomprehensible. In a rush, Lissie added, "And I would like to live with him."
M. Houston was indignant and shrill. "I knew you'd come back brainwashed! You have been confused for a long time, but remember how angry you were at him a few months ago? You practically hated him! No, he cannot have you. I am your legal guardian and I will take this to court if I must," Ms. Houston grabbed Lissie's shoulder. "Come to the car, love."
Lissie shook herself free and drew up like a regal queen of old. "I'm only going because you're my guardian and there'd be trouble for Sherlock if I resisted." Her eyes blazed as she went to the car.
Mr. Houston rose and gave his best I'm-a-rich-lawyer look. "We'll get you for this, Holmes. We love Lissie and you can't have her back. Any judge would take one look at you and send her to us. Who're you going to pick, a lawyer and businesswoman or a criminal?"
Sherlock regarded him coolly, their faces inches apart. He was suddenly reminded of his confrontation with Mr. Raymond so long ago.
"I don't care who you think you are,"'he said finally. "I believe it is obvious whom Lissie cares for."
"Holmes,I know you aren't dumb. You've got powerful friends and have a neat little reputation; I'll give you that. But we aren't going to lose Lissie to a..." Houston stopped, at loss for a deprecating enough word.
"She isn't yours to lose!"
Mr. Houston sneered. "We'll see, Holmes, we'll see."
The door slammed and Sherlock rested his chin in his hands. He allowed himself only a few minutes, however. Then he set to work, swallowing his pride and calling Mycroft, who in turn called every legal expert he knew.
A case was filed, court dates sat. Would Lissie return to boarding school from the Houston's ... she'd been moved to an impartial foster family in Dover...Lestrade could testify Sherlock' s character, that was an impressive witness, a DI...
And then came the waiting. Winter turned to spring. Every day something crossed Sherlock' s mind about Lissie. One night he awoke, frantic.
What if she has the Dream and her foster family doesn't do anything?
Should Sherlock get Lissie back? Do you think he would be a good father?