Stakeout

Genre: Family, Humour, Adventure

Pairings: Greg and Molly, Sherlock and Sally background

Main characters: Greg, Molly, Greer, Sherlock, John

"Daddy," Greer said softly, leaning into her dozing father's ear in the dark bedroom, "there are funny noises outside of my bedroom window, and strange shadows on my wall."

Greg, who had just managed to fall asleep with his arms draped over Molly, after a long shift that involved several hours of overtime, groaned inwardly as he opened his eyes.

"Daddy, did you hear me?"

"Yes, Little Love," he said thickly, as his consciousness fully returned in the darkness of the bedroom. "I heard you." Sighing, he tried, failing, to remove his arms from Molly without waking her up. Molly rolled over, squinting as dim light from the hallway spilled in.

"Greer? What's wrong darling?" Molly asked, concerned.

"Funny noises and strange shadows, Mummy," Greer said, crawling up onto the bed to snuggle up to Greg. "They've been there since the night Morrie and Toby snuck out."

"But Greer," Greg said, pulling his daughter up closer towards him and Molly, "they snuck out four nights ago. Are you telling me you've heard noises and seen odd things all week?"

Molly glanced at Greg, concerned. Though their flat was the basement of Mrs. Hudson's house, their windows still sat above ground level, and as such, their daughter's window was more than accessible to intruders, should they desire to break in.

"Yes. What are they daddy? They're beginning to scare me," she said, her voice small, almost embarrassed to make the admission.

"How about if I go take a look then?" Molly said, swinging her legs off the bed and rising out from under the covers. "I'm sure it's nothing to be frightened of, sweetheart. You stay here with Daddy, and I'll be right back." She leaned back over the bed, placing a soft kiss on her daughter's head.

"Now, Little Love, what sort of noises are you hearing?" Greg asked gently, as he held her close. "Does it sound like anything you've ever heard before?"

"Scratching and such, and sounds like when Johnnie and Scottie are playing outside in the autumn, when there are leaves in the yard."

That made sense to Greg, given the shadows, and the time of the year. The street light shone into Greer's bedroom window and anything outside of her window would cast high shadows on her wall.

"Are there any other noises?" he pressed, as Greer wrapped her arms even more tightly around him.

"Yipping noises, like when Maisie is asleep and dreaming."

That was odd, Greg thought. But he was sure it could be explained easily enough.

He looked up as Molly returned to the room. Silently, she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, indicating she was just as perplexed as they were.

"Whatever it was must be gone, darling," she said, as she crawled back under the covers. "Perhaps Daddy can check into it tomorrow, on his day off?"

"Or perhaps we can check into it together, Greer?" Greg suggested softly. He looked up at Molly and cocked his head as his wife's face seemed to light up with an idea.

"Well perhaps you and Greer can have a stakeout, try to catch whatever has been making noises and shadows in the act?"

Greg smiled crookedly. Trust Molly to come up with an idea like that. No doubt about it, Greg thought to himself, he had married a bloody brilliant woman.

"Well, I think that's a fantastic idea," Greg said. "What do you think, Little Love? Should we go on a stakeout tomorrow evening? You and I?"

Greer seemed to think about this for a few moments. "I think I'd like that, Daddy."

"Well," Molly said, yawning, "how about we work out the details in the morning then. Would you like to go back to your own bed Greer? Or would you prefer to stay here with myself and Daddy?"

Greg shared a smirk with his wife. They both knew that question was a mere formality.

"Right here, Mummy, please? Would you cuddle me too?"

Molly smiled as she slid back under the covers, holding them up as Greg maneuvered himself and Greer to more of a recline. Rolling over towards them, she draped her arm around her daughter, snuggling close, while Greg brought a hand up to hold hers, interlacing their fingers. Before either of them had a chance for that final heavy sigh before attempting to go back to sleep, the soft gentle snoring of their small daughter told them that all would be well for the rest of the night.

"Right, then, Police Constable Greer," Greg said, sounding serious and official. "Have we everything we need for this assignment?"

Molly stood back, smiling. She truly hoped this impromptu plan would do the trick to set their little girl at ease in her own bedroom. The whole point of a stakeout with Greer involved was to let her see for herself what was causing the ruckus outside her window at night.

"Torches, binoculars, Detective Inspector Daddy," Greer said solemnly. "Radios to stay in touch with Uncle Sherlock and Uncle John and Mummy. Bagged lunches. Did Mummy remember Uncle John's special biscuits?"

"I most certainly did, sweetheart," Molly said. "Ginger nuts and oatmeal biscuits with coconut, just the way you like them. He made them special today just for your stakeout with Daddy. And I also remembered your coffee."

Greg inwardly sighed. Greer loved coffee. Ever since she was a toddler, she loved the smell of it, and the moment he had, with what wasn't a small amount of trepidation, allowed her to take a sip of his, she had fallen in love with it utterly. Molly kept a small stash of decaffeinated coffee on hand just for Greer's little cravings – which, mercifully, weren't too frequent just yet.

"And I have the car ready for us outside," Greg said, having brought his own patrol car home for the purpose on both Sally and Kieran's suggestion.

"Good luck then, my loves" Molly said, crouching down to kiss Greer's cheek. Standing up, she gave Greg a slightly more involved kiss. "Here's to hoping this is sorted before everyone's bedtime then," she winked.

Once in the car, Greer fell to silence, concentrating on peering through her binoculars. Greg kept a sideways glance on her as he smiled to himself. He could well imagine her following in his footsteps someday. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, but he also knew that all indications pointed towards his daughter growing into a woman who would not suffer fools gladly, and would not be pushed around. Already, his Little Love was a force to be reckoned with. Her brothers knew better than to make her mad, though they rarely did anything to honestly achieve that. Greer adored Greg most of all, but that didn't mean she didn't also love her Mum and her brothers fiercely. It would take massive sins on the parts of her beloved big brothers to truly upset her.

Greg's radio toned. It was Sherlock, who had, surprisingly and no doubt under threat from Sally, agreed to play along. "Inspector Daddy," Greg answered.

"Deputy Detective Uncle Sherlock here," the deep baritone came through. Greg could well imagine Sally egging him on with a glare. "We may have a problem. Be advised that Morrie and Toby have once again snuck out. Evidence suggests they may have been doing this every evening for the past week."

"Explain please, Deputy Uncle?" Greer said, her sweet small voice carrying through.

Sally, inside 221B, had to stop a giggle. It was possibly the most adorable thing she'd heard in several days. Sherlock, smiling sideways at her, played along, now utterly charmed himself.

"It would appear, Constable Greer, that the main door to 221 Baker Street has not been latching properly. I believe the feline elements have had an accomplice in the form of one very naughty pocket beagle who goes by the alias of Maisie Lestrade."

"I believe you're mistaken Deputy Uncle," Greg cut in. "The rogue beagle is not, in fact, a Lestrade. Her papers indicate she's a Holmes. This is on the record, though she may also go under the aliases of Maisie Lestrade and Maisie Watson. Rarely though not unknown, Maisie Hudson."

"Semantics, Inspector Daddy," Sherlock retorted. "In any case, Morrie and Toby have been going on the lam with Maisie's assistance."

"Deputy Uncle John here," John cut in. "I'm observing movement on the north side of 221B through the window. I believe it to be suspicious in nature as it does NOT appear to be exclusively feline."

"Noted, Deputy Uncle John," Greg said, peering over at Greer. His young daughter had taken on a gravely serious expression, completely absorbed in their mission.

"Deputy Mummy here," Molly chimed in. "I'm confirming the sighting. I see three distinct individuals outside scampering about in front of Constable Greer's bedroom window."

Greer moved her gaze towards the window she knew Uncle John and Mummy to be speaking of, bringing her binoculars up to her eyes.

She watched for a moment, and then gasped loudly. "Oh, DADDY!"

Greg started, concerned, then brought his own up to take a look. Seeing what his daughter had spotted, he grinned broadly.

"That, Little Love, is a fox. Do you see what he's doing?"

Greer was silent for several moments. "It looks like he's playing with Morrie and Toby!"

"Deputy Uncle John, Deputy Mummy, what are you seeing right now through the window?" Greg asked through the radio. "Constable Greer is reporting play time between a small fox and our two feline suspects."

"Copy that, Inspector Daddy," John replied. "Confirming sighting of one small fox scampering, wrestling, and snuzzling Morrie and Toby."

"Agreed," Molly said through the radio. "I'm seeing the same thing from my location."

"I'll be damned," Sherlock was heard muttering softly.

"Little Love, do you know what this means?" Greg asked softly, when Sherlock, John, and Molly had signed off.

Greer, her dark brown eyes huge, shook her head.

"This means that Morrie and Toby have a playmate, but most importantly, foxes are territorial. Do you know what that means?"

"No, Daddy. Not really… is a territory a… home?"

"In a sense, yes, Little Love," Greg said. "This little fox has claimed this place as his home, which means that no other foxes will dare challenge him for it. And since he's obviously made friends with Morrie and Toby, that means that no other foxes will ever try to bother them, unless something happens to him."

"So then, the strange noises and shadows were just him playing with Morrie and Toby?" she asked, her little voice hopeful.

"I think so, yeah. Nothing to worry about, it's just our cats outside playing with their new friend, is all."

"He needs a name then, Daddy," Greer said, happily. "What shall we name him?"

"I'm not rightly sure," Greg said. "But as it's past your bedtime, and mine as well, suppose we sleep on it and discuss this tomorrow at dinner, when I'm home from work?"

"I LOVE that idea, Daddy," Greer said, with a relieved sigh. "I think I might sleep in my OWN bed tonight, if that's alright?"

Greg held back a snicker. "Of course, if you wish, I think that's a grand idea."