Hi! I tried to post this chapter earlier, but my internet connection decided not to cooperate today. I just hope that this chapter's worth the wait!

After paying the cabbie, John stepped out into the moonlight. It was abnormally busy at the clinic and he was very much looking forward to relaxing at home. He nearly chuckled at the thought. When was 221B ever relaxing?

He entered the building and began his trek up the stairs. "Hello!" he called up.

In the living room, Sherlock and Rosie were playing with her dolls. At the sound of her father's voice, Rosie gasped in delight and shot up to her feet. Sherlock stood up himself and nervously waited for John to notice Rosie's eyes.

John made it to the top of the stairs and got down on his knees to hug his daughter and kiss her on the cheek. When he pulled back to ask her about her day, his smile vanished. Her eyes were red as if she had pink eye, but John could tell that that wasn't it.

He placed his hands on both sides of her face as he took a closer look. "Rosie? What happened to your eyes?"

Rosie looked down in shame. "I knocked over an expear mint."

John looked over to Sherlock who was intently looking through some books on the shelf. He was doing his best to give off an aura of nonchalance despite his growing anxiety of whatever was to come. He didn't have to wait long.

John released Rosie and stood up. "Sweetheart, why don't you go ahead and pick out what pajamas you want to wear?"

"It's already time for bed?"

"Not quite yet, but you should still get ready. Go on."

Hesitantly, Rosie left in the direction toward her room. Sherlock ceased pretending to look for a book as John went to the kitchen.

Sherlock followed. "John."

John looked into the sink to see a pan he was sure wasn't there before.

"John, I know what you're going to say and-"

"What was it?" he asked, failing to hide his anger.

"Hydrogen peroxide. Her eyes will be back to normal soon."

John turned around to face him, trying not to shout. "So you're telling me, that you performed an experiment with hydrogen peroxide while you were supposed to be watching Rosie, and she was somehow able to get some in her eyes."

"To be fair, I didn't see her coming. You see-"

John snapped, his voice rising, "It doesn't matter if you saw her coming! The point is you were supposed to be watching her! Not doing experiments!"

"I was watching her!" Sherlock defended, "I told her to stay in the living room while I was working!"

"Because children are well known for staying away from places they shouldn't go!"

"She forgot that she wasn't allowed in the kitchen!"

John passed Sherlock to enter the living room. "You shouldn't even be doing experiments in the kitchen at all! Much less when you're supposed to be watching a little girl!"

Sherlock turned back toward him. "We agreed that I could do experiments as long as I only used ingredients found in the common household!"

John turned and pointed a finger at Sherlock. "And you've completely forgotten that I also said not when you're watching Rosie!"

He didn't remember that bit, but he wasn't going to admit it. "You give her too little credit!"

"You got hydrogen peroxide in her eyes because you didn't listen to me! I entrusted you with my daughter, thinking that you would be able to handle it! But you know what?! My mistake!"

"You don't think I can take care of her?!"

"Even when I'm here something is bound to happen! Like when she saw those crime scene photos and had to sleep in our room for months! Or all of those times when you announce very, very gruesome details of a new case while completely disregarding Rosie's presence! And let's not forget when she managed to sneak out of the flat and go to Speedy's! Honestly, it was only a matter of time before something like this happened! You're a walking and talking hazard, Sherlock!"

The room went silent. A hurt expression appeared on Sherlock's face before disappearing in an instant. Anyone who wasn't John would have missed it.

John found a good amount of his anger disappearing with that look. "Sherlock..."

Sherlock went over to where his belstaff was hanging and took it off. "A hazard? Well..." He swung his belstaff on. "Perhaps I should leave, then. Wouldn't want any more harm to befall Watson and Daughter." He grabbed his scarf and headed out the door.

"Sherlock, wait!" The door leading to the stairwell slammed. John sat in his chair and put his face in his hands. While he was still mad at him, he was also feeling guilty over his words. Sherlock was not an easy person to get to, and yet John was somehow able to insult him enough to get him to storm out. It was a bit confusing how Sherlock wasn't able to simply shrug his words off.

"Daddy?" John looked over to see Rosie walking over to him in her yellow pajama bottoms and white pajama top with the cartoon bee. A Christmas gift from Sherlock.

John held his arms out and Rosie sat in his lap. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Just a little." She looked to the door. "Is Sherlock coming back?"

He smiled. "Of course he is. Sometimes people need to take a break from each other. He'll be back soon enough."

"You should say you're sorry for yelling at him. That'll make everything better."

"Perhaps I should. Now, let's go brush your teeth."

Rosie slid off his lap. "I don't want to go to bed until Sherlock gets back."

"How about I'll have Sherlock tell you goodnight when he returns?"

After visibly thinking it over, she nodded.

"Come on then."

Sherlock walked aimlessly through the streets of London. It wasn't very cold, but he was still slightly hunched over with his coat collar turned up and hands in his pockets. The few people he came across were obviously intimidated by his demeanor.

He knew storming out of the flat was a bit childish, but John used to 'go out' when a fight really upset him. If John had done it, then certainly it would be fine if Sherlock did too. He couldn't be in the same room after John implied that he was too dangerous to be around.

One of his biggest fears since John moved back into 221B with Rosie was that he would leave again. Sherlock had done everything he could think of to make the flat as safe as possible. He no longer accepted walk-in clients, took their address off of his website, installed a security system, and together, they baby-proofed the entire flat. Now he wondered if John believed that no matter what he did, Sherlock would always be a problem to be around. He wasn't sure what he would do if John moved out again, and this time he would be taking Rosie with him.

However, he couldn't let himself be selfish. Rosie was hurt because of him. Sherlock had known since early childhood what to do during certain lab accidents, but according to John, that information isn't common knowledge even among most adults. Children were kept away from labs where they couldn't be injured, and it appeared that that's where John wanted Rosie to be. After today, Sherlock had to agree. He couldn't do experiments in the kitchen anymore.

Children typically weren't exposed to the knowledge of criminal activity in London. Sherlock had assumed that Rosie would have to simply get used to conversations about dead bodies and serial killers. John clearly wasn't on the same page. Really, how did he expect to hide such a large portion of their lives from her? Would John have to stop going on cases? Before the birth of Rosie, Sherlock wouldn't be able to imagine John in any profession without any danger, but he would do anything for his child. Sherlock would also do anything for her, and would do anything for John as well.

If it had been anyone else, Sherlock would have probably disregarded their opinion and continued doing what he wanted. With John, Sherlock realized he would have to compromise. They would have to communicate about what was expected in the future. It wasn't something Sherlock was looking forward to, but something that he knew would have to be done.

He was just going to head back when he heard a, "Psst."

He looked into the dark alley, where a figure was huddled against one of the walls. He couldn't make much out about him except that he was male, unkempt, and holding a cup that rattled with coins. He couldn't even make out many facial features.

"Any spare change?"

Sherlock didn't recognize the voice, so this man wasn't in his homeless network. A potential new recruit was always something to be pleased about, but he was acting suspicious. "It'd be much easier to get money if you were out in the street you know."

The man tensed. "Not with my face, Sir."

He raised an eyebrow before taking out his phone and using the light to shine on the homeless man. The stranger squinted his one open eye at the sudden brightness. His face was covered in dirt and grime, but it didn't hide the scar along his face. The most notable feature, though, was that one side of his upper lip was twisted in a permanent snarl. It was a face that he supposed some would be embarrassed to have. It was a plausible explanation for staying in the darkness.

"All right." Sherlock knew the risks of approaching this man in an alley, but a new member was promising, and Sherlock could defend himself if the man suddenly decided to attack him. He took out his wallet and stepped into the alley. He figured twenty pounds would be a good amount to give. When he was less than a meter away, he noticed the man go rigid, as if ready to get up.

He didn't expect the real attack to come from behind.

There was a sharp pain in his neck and then an arm wrapped around his chest to hold him still. Sherlock leaned his head forward to gain momentum and swing it back at his attacker, but his head refused to finish the movement. In fact, he heard his wallet and phone hit the pavement as his arms involuntarily relaxed. It wasn't long before his entire body felt heavy. Nothing was cooperating anymore. If the person behind him wasn't holding onto him, he would have crumpled to the ground.

"Sleep now," said a voice from behind him. It was oddly gentle for an abductor.

Sherlock being Sherlock didn't listen to the order. He struggled to stay conscious and to listen to what was being said between the mysterious man and the supposed homeless person. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he managed to stay awake long enough to feel himself being lifted and carried through the alley. The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him was the homeless man waving goodbye.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Sherlock was able to be abducted. Of course, it's only a matter of time before people realize he's missing.

Did you guys catch the reference to The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes? If you didn't, I added a character from The Man with the Twisted Lip. This character's going to be important in the future.

Please, let me know what you think!