I'm back with a new chapter! The cult hasn't shown up yet, but this is a very important chapter for the story. I promise they'll make an appearance in the next chapter!

Sherlock grabbed the tooth with his gloved hand and brought it close to his eyes. While it was difficult to see through the safety goggles, it seemed this tooth was in perfect condition despite some yellowing. Now to saw it in half.

He picked up the tiny circular saw when he saw Rosie step into the kitchen. "You're not allowed in here while I'm experimenting, remember?"

"Oh!" she walked backwards until she was back in the living room. "Can you get me a snack?"

"I have hydrogen peroxide on my gloves." He cleared his throat before he called out, "Mrs. Hudson!"

"Are you holding a tooth?" Rosie asked.

Sherlock glanced at the tooth, hoping John wouldn't mind that Rosie had seen it. "Yes."

"Where did you get it?"

"I bought it from the tooth fairy. Why do you think she collects teeth in the first place?"

She smiled. "Oh! It all makes sense now!"

He couldn't help but smile back at her. How simple children are.

Mrs. Hudson entered 221B. "What is it?"

"Rosie needs a snack."

Mrs. Hudson crossed her arms. "Not your housekeeper."

Sherlock turned on the saw and proceeded to cut the tooth in half. He knew Mrs. Hudson would feed Rosie. It was one of her favorite activities.

Sure enough, Mrs. Hudson took Rosie's little hand in hers and gave it a few friendly pats. "I'll be right back, Dear."

When she left, Rosie went back to the middle of living room to continue coloring her masterpiece. Sherlock, not being allowed to use any of the bowls, gently placed half of the tooth in the frying pan of hydrogen peroxide. It was a childish experiment compared to what he usually did, but John made it clear that he was forbidden to use products that one wouldn't find in a house already. It was all part of child-proofing the flat.

Mrs. Hudson returned less than two minutes later with a fruit bowl. "Is John at the clinic all day?"

Sherlock placed the other half of the tooth under the microscope. "He won't be home until later tonight. Perfect for experimenting."

"Of course." She set the fruit bowl next to Rosie. "I have to go get some towels so you don't get juice all over the floor."

"I can be careful," insisted Rosie.

"I know, but even so, it's easy to make a mess." She stood and left again. "Now where did I leave them?"

Rosie focused on her drawing. It was the day when they went to the petting zoo. Specifically, it was the part where the chickens were chasing them. It took a lot to scare Sherlock and her daddy, but chickens had them running in fear that day. When the hens had charged, Daddy had picked her up so fast that his shoulder hurt all day. Sherlock still hasn't admitted that they scared him, but Daddy told her that they did. He said he wouldn't admit it because of something called 'pride.'

Rosie would like to be a chicken for Halloween. Or maybe a goat. She liked the goats there.

As she was contemplating this, Sherlock took the tooth that wasn't in the pan and put it under his microscope. He looked over at Rosie before focusing solely on the tooth under the lens. Nothing seemed to be abnormal so far.

Chicken or goat? Well, Halloween was still a long time away, and she was too close to finishing her picture to get distracted.

Molly said that this tooth was from a male. Judging by the state of the outside, this was a man in great health and/or who took his oral hygiene seriously. Perfect for this experiment.

Her drawing was done, and it was her best work yet if she said so herself. She couldn't wait to show her daddy and to be praised for her work. He'd kiss her on the cheek before asking where she thought they should put it. Maybe he'll even put it on his blog about Sherlock. She couldn't wait to show him!

Until he was home, she'd have to show it to Sherlock. He loved looking at her drawings and pointing out every little detail about them. The idea alone of showing him was making her heart happy. She completely forgot about how she wasn't allowed in the kitchen at the moment.

With a large grin on her face, she stood and ran over to the kitchen. The microscope was limiting Sherlock's vision, making it impossible to see her coming.

"Sherlock! Sherlock!" she exclaimed as she held the picture over her head.

He lifted his head in time to see that not only was Rosie in the kitchen, but one of her little arms was close to the frying pan holding the other half of the tooth and the hydrogen peroxide. "Rosie, stop!"

The next series of events happened too fast for Sherlock to do anything. Her arm hit the handle in just the right way that the pan twirled right off the counter. Looking up to see what she had hit, the pan tipped toward her enough to release a good amount of hydrogen peroxide onto her face and into her eyes.

Rosie let out a high-pitched shriek of pain. Without thinking, Sherlock latched onto her and lifted her into the air as she cried. He stepped toward the kitchen sink only to realize that the dishes in it as well as the clutter on the counter made it impossible to use. Changing plans, he ran as fast as he could to the bathroom. The sink's counter top had too many stuff on it, so he turned his attention to the tub.

"It hurts!" she yelled as she continued to sob into his shoulder. Her death grip on Sherlock only tightened.

Sherlock yanked off his gloves, using his arms to clutch Rosie to himself. "I know. I know. Whatever you do, don't rub your eyes!"

Once they were off, he removed the shower head and sat on the edge of bath. He managed to lay Rosie down on his lap so that her head was over the tub and her eyes facing upwards. She had them squeezed shut, keeping the rest of the hydrogen peroxide on her face from reaching her eyes. The only thing exiting were her tears. Her hands shook as she resisted the urge to rub her eyes.

Sherlock turned on the water and flipped the handle so that the water came out of the shower head. He guided it over her face, washing away the hydrogen peroxide that threatened to get in her eyes and add to the pain.

Mrs. Hudson entered the bathroom, startled by Rosie's crying. "What's going on?!"

He didn't answer. Instead, deciding the first step was done, held the shower head above the bridge of Rosie's nose.

"Rosie! Rosie!" he said over her cries. She managed to lower her volume somewhat. "I know your eyes hurt, but I need you to blink as many times as you can. Understand?"

She was visibly struggling to open her eyes, but Rosie did her best to blink over and over again.

"Just like that."

"What happened?!" exclaimed Mrs. Hudson.

Sherlock finally acknowledged Mrs. Hudson's presence. "She got hydrogen peroxide in her eyes."

The answer did nothing to calm her. "Oh you poor thing! Will she be all right?!"

"Hydrogen peroxide in the eyes hurts, but as long as it's properly washed out, it shouldn't have any permenant effect on her vision."

Rosie's sobs turned into sniffles. "How long is it going to hurt?"

"Your eyes will be sore until tomorrow, but the worse of it is over."

"How long do I have to stay like this?" she asked.

Sherlock answered, "Normally, I'd say 15 minutes, but we'll do 20 to be safe."

"I don't know how long that is. Is that a long time?"

Mrs. Hudson weighed in, "It will seem like a long time, but it's not long at all." She said to Sherlock, "I'm going to clean up that mess in the kitchen."

As she left, Rosie asked, "Did I ruin the expear mint?"

He mustered up the most soothing voice he was capable of. "I don't want you to worry about that. Just focus on blinking."

She obeyed. "Okay."

Sherlock sighed. This was his fault. There was no denying that. He thought he was performing one of the safest experiments, and yet there he was holding an injured Rosie. He shouldn't have taken his eyes off of her for so long, and as easier as it is for Sherlock to use, he shouldn't have had the pan so that the handle was hanging off the island. Frankly, he didn't even care about the experiment anymore.

Mrs. Hudson reentered the bathroom with a piece of paper. "I found this."

"What is it?" asked Rosie.

"It's your drawing. It's got something wet on it, but nothing that won't dry I'm sure."

To Sherlock's relief, Rosie smiled a bit. "Do you like it, Nana?"

"It's very pretty!" She held the picture in front of Sherlock's face. "Sherlock, have a look."

Rosie still had much to learn about creating art, but Sherlock and John were always able to tell what she had created. The tall stick figure was obviously himself running. Behind him was a shorter stick figure, John, holding a tiny stick figure as it also ran. Sherlock recognized the following four brown and red blobs as the chickens from the petting zoo.

"This is from a few days ago," said Sherlock, "When those hens decided that they didn't particularly care for us. I see it's made out of crayon on simple white paper. You very cleverly mixed red and brown to create the hens. I know your father will enjoy this drawing."

Mrs. Hudson agreed. "He certainly will. I'll let this dry and then put it on the fridge," she said as she left.

Rosie's eyes were able to open a little more under the water as she continued to blink. "It doesn't hurt as much anymore, Sherlock. Has it been 20 minutes yet?"

"I'm afraid not. Why don't I recite your favorite book to pass the time?"

"I don't want you to leave me alone to go get it."

He answered, "There's no need to get it. I won't be able to show you the pictures because of the water, and I've memorized all of the words."

This seemed to satisfy her. "Okay. Make sure to get all of the voices right."

"Of course." He cleared his throat before continuing, "Jane hated sewing."

Rosie had to stand on a step stool to stare at her eyes in the bathroom mirror. They were noticeably red and sore like Sherlock had said. The man in question was standing behind her.

"You promise that they won't be red forever?"

"I promise," answered Sherlock. "Will you be all right?"

She continued to stare at herself before saying, "I kind of look like Superman before he shoots lasers out of his eyes."

"Perhaps. I admit that I am not very familiar with him."

She stepped down off the stool. "Daddy will agree with me."

He tensed thinking about John's return to Baker Street.

We'll see John's reaction in the next chapter (he's not going to be happy). Also, like I said earlier, the antagonists will be making their first appearance.

Feel free to let me know what you think!