Mary and John's flat was decorated with balloons and streamers, beautifully matching and picked out by John's girlfriend. There was a selection of finger foods on the table and another dedicated to drinks, both alcoholic and not. There was a small collection of adults milling around the room as Greg entered, present in hand as he grinned at John, patting him on the back.
"Hard day?" He joked, referring to the covering of stubble on the man's face. John rubbed it, nodding.
"February's cold season." He replied. It had been non-stop at the clinic because, apparently, the majority of London couldn't tell the difference between a common cold and the plague. Thankfully the only person in the room with anything remotely coldish was the little girl sat on the floor between her mother and his Mary, dressed in a beautiful white dress with flowers in her hair. He nodded over to a small pile of presents, near where Molly was chatting happily but awkwardly with Mrs Hudson, "Place that over there, we're just waiting for Mr and Mrs Holmes." Greg saluted casually and placed the small box on the ever-growing pile of gifts before heading over to Faye and Mary, sitting on the floor and crossing his legs.
"How's the birthday girl?" He asked, reaching out and letting Bella take his hand. She stumbled over to him, having just barely started to walk, and fell into his lap.
"She doesn't seem to care about the presents at all." Faye replied, "She's been staring at Aunt Mary's fabulous decorations for the last ten minutes." He glanced down and, sure enough, Bella was sat in his lap, staring at the ceiling where the pink balloons floated lazily.
"I was surprised it was being held here." He admitted.
"It made sense." Faye explained, "It's a bigger flat, plus there was no way I could pull all this off." Mary nudged her.
"I just like showing off my impeccable party-planning skills." She retorted, although both of them knew that wasn't the reason. It had been almost two months since John had moved out of Baker Street and he had yet to step foot back into the flat. At first it had really bothered Faye, but now she saw it for what it was – the inability to see it without any sign of him and Sherlock. So the two women worked around him. By, for example, having Bella's first birthday party in his flat.
"Modest, as always." Faye replied as the door opened again and Mr and Mrs Holmes came in, Mr Holmes carrying a bag of presents. Faye pushed herself up, "Time to greet the almost-in-laws. Come on, Bella." She reached down but Bella scrunched her face up and tightened her grip on Greg. He yelped slightly, not expecting such a strong hold from such a little person.
"NO!" Bella screamed, "Grav, Grav, Grav!"
"Oh great, another Holmes who can't get my name right." Greg grumbled as Faye sighed in annoyance, scooping up Bella who began squirming in her grasp.
"Look, Granddad and Grandma are here." She told the little girl firmly. Mrs Holmes strode over, holding her arms out to Bella, who all but chucked herself at her Grandma.
"Grav, Grav, Grav!" She continued as Greg turned to Mary, who was watching the group of Holmes try to calm down the little diva.
"I've never felt so loved." He told her and she laughed, slowly pushing herself up and walking over to John, who wrapped an arm around her waist. It was the most affection he was prepared to show in public and she loved how it felt, that he'd act against his normally reserved nature to be close to her.
"Presents, perhaps?" She whispered and he nodded.
"Faye?" He called over and the mother looked expectantly him, "Presents?" She nodded, sighing in relief and showed the pile to her daughter, "Look, Bella. Presents for you." The little girl shook her head, burying her face into her Grandma's shoulder as she continued to scream.
"Oh, there's no need for that, sweetie." Mrs Holmes cooed, heading over and picking up a box, shaking it enticingly, "What's this?" Bella was pouting adorably, but reached out and batted the box. Faye had noticed it was how she tested whether or not she was interested in something, a quick smack with her hand. Better than sniffing dead bodies, she supposed.
~0~0~0~
After Bella had opened the presents with her grandparents, because she wasn't liking her mother apparently, Mrs Holmes put the little girl to bed in a travel cot in John and Mary's room. Apart from the party, and the gorgeous dresses Mary had bought, their birthday present to Bella was a night over so Faye could have a night to herself. Again, it was just John making an excuse to not go to 221B to spend time with the child, but Faye would take it. A night without Bella, a night she was guaranteed on her own, meant one thing. A night on her own with Sherlock.
Not that she'd begrudge him time with his daughter, after all she wanted the pair to have a normal relationship, or at least as normal a relationship as they could have under the circumstances. Sherlock wasn't a natural father, but he was trying his best to build on the little knowledge he remembered from his own childhood. He was trying to not become frustrated when she cried for no reason, and she'd caught him playing with her collection of Meerkats. He was getting there, slowly, and she was certain that there was another little black book somewhere with his notes on his times with her, much like the one he'd done when he'd tried to make her smile.
She tidied the flat slightly, making sure to hide all the toys that had been bought for their child, before flopping onto the sofa and pulling out her phone.
Home Alone.
She sent the quick message to her contact 'Shaun', just in case John ever looked at her phone and wondered why she was contacting Sherlock so much despite the fact he might be dead. Then she chucked her feet up and waited.
The sound of the window in the bathroom opening had her upon her feet, her heart swelling and she dashed to the door, chucking it open.
"Sher..." She started excitedly, only to be greeted by Sebastian Moran.
"Hello, Faye." He drawled and she screamed.
~0~0~0~
John gently shushed Bella as he strode purposefully up Baker Street. Faye had told them she'd pick Bella up around 10am, but it was pushing 3pm and there was still no sign of her. Mary had brushed it off, saying she probably was sleeping while she had the chance, but the moment she'd left for work he'd been out of the door. It wasn't far-fetched to think she'd just slept in, in fact it wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but she would always answer her phone with a grunt and a swearword when he'd tried to contact her. However, being sent to voice mail so many times without an answer was starting to really worry him, and over the years he'd learnt to trust his gut instinct. With Mycroft out of the country, and Mary at work, he'd had no choice but to bring the little girl with him, as reluctant as he was to do that.
He reached in his pocket, feeling a large twinge of sadness at the fact he didn't have keys for the building anymore, because he didn't live there anymore. He knocked three times and Mrs Hudson opened the door, smiling in surprise at the sight of John.
"Oh, I wasn't expecting you, dearie." She told him, stepping out of the way so she could let him in.
"Faye's not answering her phone." He explained, pulling the buggy into the flat, "Can you look after Bella for a moment?"
"Of course." She replied instantly, making a face at the little girl. She still hadn't settled, but stopped gurning so much at the sight of the landlady.
"Thanks." John threw over his shoulder as he dashed up the stairs, two at a time. The front door was unlocked, but that wasn't unusual as they had another door between them and the street. Between her and the street, "Faye?" He stepped in, his well-trained eyes immediately spotting her phone on the sofa. He picked it up and spotted all the missed calls from him. He felt slightly embarrassed; he hadn't realised just how many times he'd rang her, "Faye?" He tried again, heading towards the bedroom. The gentlemanly part of him was reluctant to just walk into her bedroom, but he was too worried at that point to care. As he reached towards the door handle, the bathroom made him double take. There was a teddy bear sat in the middle of the room, a blue colour with it's head in tact. He stepped in, noting the way her toiletries were strewn all over the floor, and the shower curtain had been torn down, now draped half over the bathtub. He picked up the bear, hands shaking when he spotted the note underneath it.
Faye's head for Sherlock's.
