Wow! I haven't updated in forever. So sorry about that. Hopefully this makes up for it? Maybe? Oh well. If not, I can't say I blame you.

I blame this story on the Mrs. Hudsons Kitchen. Somehow all of my stories start from a conversation in there.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I own nothing, I own nothing.

For the third time today Sherlock was awoken because of a coughing fit. He had gotten the flu and it was definitely taking it's course.

"Papa?" Christin called from the door way. She looked around the corner at him with concerned eyes

"I'm fine Christin" He said with a sniffle. It's 11 am and she's supposed to be taking a nap because she didn't sleep last night (Sherlock's coughing and constant nose blowing perked her curiosity).

She walked closer into the room and stared at him with brooding eyes that are too old for that three-year old face. "You sick?" She asked pointing to him

Sherlock sighed and looked at her. 'No point in lying to her.' He thought "Yes, I'm sick."

"Do you need soup?"

Sherlock chuckled at her question "Yes" He told her with a small smile and a slight nod "Yes I need soup."

"Okay" She said and nodded vigorously then running out of the room and into the kitchen as fast as he little legs would carry her.

Sherlock smiled and closed his eyes knowing she couldn't break anything... Until he heard a large crash And toddling feet coming back to him

"Papa..." Christin said sounding sad

Sherlock sighed and didn't want to see what had happened "Yes Christin?" He asked turning his head towards her and opening his eyes slowly to see her standing right in front of him.

"I can't make soup" She said shaking her head slowly.

Sherlock started to laugh when she said that with complete seriousness. It's not a phrase often heard and most certainly not heard from a child. Christin stared in confusion.

"Should I call Uncle Greg?" She asked "Or Uncle Myc?" She said tilting her head to one side flopping all of her long curls with it.

"Bring me my mobile. I'll call Uncle Greg" Sherlock told her and waved his hand towards where his phone is – tossed in a heap with blankets on the floor.

Christin went over to get Sherlock's mobile and squinted at it when she found it "Uncle Greg called you. Lots." She told Sherlock handing him his mobile

Sherlock looked and she was right. Greg had called about fifteen times. Granted, Sherlock hasn't touched his mobile in three days, so that's probably why it's fifteen calls. Sherlock sighed and called Greg back. He answered on the second ring

"Greg Lestrade."

"Greg." Sherlock said with a cough

"Sherlock? Christ! Where have you been?!" Greg asked sounding angry "I have been trying to get a hold of you for three days!"

"I know" Sherlock said with a yawn 'God I'm tired' he thought to himself. "Sorry about that. I'm sick"

"Got the flu?" Greg asked and got a mumble as a reply "Figured. I'm coming over alright?"

"Sure." Sherlock said with a sniffle "Bring soup. And food for Christin. I don't know when she last ate..."

Greg sighed and hung up on him. Sherlock sat up slightly as he hung up his mobile and looked at Christin with a raised brow. She was sitting on the edge of his bed looking at him curiously

"When did you last eat?" He asked her

"This morning, I had crackers." She said looking at him

"From where?"

"Cabinet. I got a chair." She stated matter-o-factly

Sherlock sighed and crooked a finger at her. "Come here"

She climbed up the bed and sat next to him "Papa going to be ok?" She asked concerned

"Yep. Let's take a nap until Uncle Greg gets here." He said laying back

"Ok!" She said plopping down next to him and staring at the side of his face

"Sherlock?" Greg said waking him up.

It was noon and Greg had finally made it over. He brought soup for Sherlock and sandwiches for him and Christin.

"Hi" Sherlock said with a smile

"You're tired. Eat your soup and go to bed. I'm taking Christin with me alright?" Greg told him setting the soup on the nightstand

"NO" Christin screamed sitting up "I'M NOT LEAVING. PAPA'S SICK AND NEEDS SOUP" She screams and stares at Greg like he tried to kill a puppy.

Sherlock starts laughing sitting up as a stare down begins between Greg and Christin. Christin wins the stare down because Greg turns to Sherlock

"What's so funny?" he asks

"You had a stare down with a three-year old... AND LOST" Sherlock said laughing harder

"Eat your soup and shut up you bugger."

"NEVER" Christin calls and dive bombs off the bed.

"Does she always do this?" Greg asked with a raised brow and a pointed finger

"What?"

"All this..." Greg said with a wave of his hand "Drama

"Oh. Well," Sherlock says with a smile. "She learned from the best."