A/N: Sorry this took so long. The action will be picking up very soon, I promise. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!-thefaultoflegend

"Okay here's her diaper bag. It has bottles, diapers, wipes, powder, bibs, extra clothes, some toys, blankets…"

"John, I've watched her before. I'm perfectly capable. And I don't see why you need all this junk anyway. I barely use any of it," replied Sherlock as he grabbed the bag and baby Ava off of John. The almost five month old curled up in her godfather's arm and giggled up at him.

"Okay well call me or Mary or Mrs. Hudson or Molly if you need anything," said John with a bit of worry on his face. Sherlock had watched John's daughter before without any issue but it was only a matter of time before he started taking the child on cases or experimenting on her. "Goodbye, Ava. Love you," said John as he leaned over and kissed his daughter on the forehead. She smiled up at her father before he walked out of the door and down the stairs of 221B.

"Well, Ms. Watson," said Sherlock as he went to sit in his chair. "What are we going to do today?" He went to grab a book to read when his phone rang and he picked it up to see that his brother was calling. With a sigh he shifted Ava to one arm and answered with the other. "Mycroft," he scoffed.

"Brother Mine," said Mycroft on the other end. He was probably sitting in his office, his feet propped up on his desk, waiting for a new call to come in. In Sherlock's mind, his brother only called when he got bored, same as Sherlock would take to shooting walls or going to find Molly. "I need you to come to the Diogenes immediately. We have plans to discuss regarding your current case."

"I am babysitting, Mycroft and I have strict orders to not bring Ava on any cases of mine or yours or anybody's. The Watsons and Molly would have my head."

"And since when do you care about that?" asked Mycroft with disgust in his voice. "I only want to talk, Sherlock. I'm sure that the young Watson will be fine sitting here in my office. It's one of the safest places in the world." Ava made some gurgling noises from Sherlock's arms and started to fuss a bit. He stood up and paced the room, bouncing her gently.

"I'll see what I can do," said the younger Holmes and hung up on his brother. "Ava, please do hope that your parents don't desire to procreate any further. Siblings can be most bothersome. Look at your Dad's sister. She's a drunk. My brother thinks he can boss me around whenever he wants. I suppose he does come in handy sometimes when it comes to things like faking one's death. However, I wouldn't be in those messes if it wasn't for him in the first place. I'd probably be in a drug den somewhere, though…" Sherlock trailed off as the girl calmed at her god-father's voice. "Right, well, looks like we're going on a trip," he said and set off to get ready.

A half an hour later, Sherlock stormed into his brother's office with baby Ava attached to his front in a sling which Molly had purchased for him as a joke. It seemed to become useful, now however, as Ava was calm during the entire ride to the Diogenes and it was much less bulky than that idiotic baby carrier her parents insisted on using. When Sherlock entered the room, baby on his front and a pink diaper bag draping his shoulder, Mycroft couldn't help but break into uproarious laughter at the sight of his brother. He put a hand on his desk and doubled over while Sherlock simply rolled his eyes and deposited the bag and the sling on a chair, holding Ava in his arms protectively.

"Oh do shut up," started Sherlock. "You're the one who wanted me to bring her down here."

"Yes but what is that ridiculous thing?" asked Mycroft as he pointed to the sling. Ava started crying then, which was unusual for the little girl as she was a happy baby by nature and easy for Sherlock to take care of.

"Shush. You're upsetting her," replied the godfather as he worked to make the little girl a bottle.

"Sherlock, which is more important? The state of Moriarty's large criminal network or the state of your god-daughter?"

Sherlock eyed his brother for a second and then gave a softer look at the little girl in his arms who was now sucking on her bottle happily and staring up at the consulting detective. "Don't make me answer that," whispered Sherlock in a voice that Mycroft had never heard before.

He cleared his throat and his thoughts drifted softly to the place that his brother and he came from as opposed to where they were now. Five or six years ago, these types of things never would have happened. Sherlock Holmes never would have walked into the Diogenes with a baby. He would never be planning on going to see his girlfriend afterward. He wouldn't later return home to see his best friends and eat dinner with the family that he created for himself.

And Mycroft wouldn't let his brother's statement slide without comment. That he cares more for his god-daughter than anything else. Mycroft understood now. Because now, he didn't go back to an apartment alone to sulk in front of a news program. He went back to see his boyfriend and enjoy an hour or two off with a glass of wine and good conversation. He even thought about coming out, quite often in fact. So, yes. The Holmes brothers changed and at first Mycroft thought that it was for the worst. But the further they get, the further he realizes that it is for the better.

"What did you have to tell me?" asked Sherlock suddenly and Mycroft smiled slowly. Well, maybe not everything has changed.

"I looked at the computer program and I've been investigation. The twelve people on this virus are still out there, and their network is only getting stronger as time goes on. They are scattered all throughout the world. I imagine that these are important points in the web and if we take them down then the entire network comes down. Even breaking half of it would break the entirety. The web is weak but we both know that it won't remain like that. So, you need to go in and stop them. They are well protected, well hidden, so we have to send the best."

"I'll take that as a compliment," smirked Sherlock.

"Yes, well. Basically, you are needed again. I don't know how long it will take, I must warn you. It could be a few weeks, could be a few months, could be a year. It will probably be dangerous. However, I do not believe we really have a choice. If they succeed, nothing will stop them. Moriarty has taught these men how to take down entire governments. And you know what happens when someone gets even a small taste of power. You have to go."

Sherlock looked at the bundle in his arms who was now dozing off against his chest. She smelled of lavender shampoo and baby powder. Her nose wrinkled adorably in her sleep as she lifted a small first to her mouth to suck on when he took away the bottle. His heart softened as he stared at her and Mycroft's words began to sink in.

He had to go away again, just when he was getting the hang of being a part of something. Sherlock Holmes wasn't one to join groups. He was a loner. An isolate. A sociopath. But that wasn't the case anymore. He held sentiment for many people and enjoyed the small family he had created.

Leaving the first time was awful. He was still scarred from the experience and often times woke up covered in sweat and frantically searching for his loved ones, thinking that he was away in Serbia or Tokyo or Madrid being chased. He would actually be in his bed looking over to see Molly sleeping peacefully beside him. Or he would startle in his chair only to wake up and see John playing with Ava or Mrs. Hudson cleaning up or a text from Lestrade with more cases and he would thank a god that he didn't believe in that he was there with them and not by himself. They grounded him. They made him forget about all the horror he had seen. And he supposed that it was naïve to think that the extended trips were no longer going to be an occurrence.

Now he would be gone and he would wake up to an empty bed or an empty chair next to him or chained up in some cell with no one to bail him out. He would call and hear the strained voice of Molly as she tried not to cry about him no longer being around. He would receive pictures of Ava taking part in all of her milestones. He would get a text from Mycroft about coming out with Greg. And Sherlock would sit once again and break bit by bit, taking the network down with him. His eyes turned sad, his face forlorn, as he stared at his goddaughter and uttered his next words. "Will they be protected?"

"The Watsons will continue to have the highest level of protection, I assure you," replied Mycroft whose eyes also drifted to little Ava.

"Mrs. Hudson?"

"Of course."

"And Molly?" asked Sherlock with a small, almost unnoticeable quiver in his voice but Mycroft picked up on it instantly.

"She is safe, Sherlock. I will personally make myself responsible for her protection. She will be well taken care of. She is currently residing at Baker Street, correct?" Sherlock nodded and looked away, out into the sun streaming through Mycroft's windows, of the way the room lit up and the oak of his office turned more red under its glow. They were silent for a few minutes.

"I'm sure you will also make yourself personally responsible for Gabe Lestrade's protection," Sherlock said with a smile.

"Very funny, Sherlock. Hysterical. And it's Greg. You know that," said Mycroft as the two of them stood up, Sherlock repositioning Ava in her sling and Mycroft smoothing out his suit. "I'll send you my current information. You leave in three days. We're going to start at what I believe is the top of this chain. Paul Wise. You're going to California. So I'd start saying your goodbyes."

"Goodbye, Mycroft."

"Sherlock," the brother replied as he watched the detective walk out, a slump in his shoulders that he hadn't seen in a long time, while cooing quietly to Ava, raising her up to kiss her when he thought Mycroft couldn't see him anymore.