Chapter Two- Introductions

The three men were quite a sight. Lestrade had the largest grin on his face, John was frantically wiping up hot coffee, and Sherlock had taken a sudden interest in the floor, with his forehead in his hand.

"You have a daughter!?" John exclaimed. He let out a short, nervous laugh. "Is that even possible? I mean," he turned to Lestrade, and leaned over the table a bit more "this is Sherlock we're talking about."

Sherlock finally raised his head, though he did not stop remove the hand from his forehead. "If you are suggesting, Watson, that I am a virgin and therefore incapable of having conceived a child, then I assure you that is not the case. I have used my reproductive organs before, and, clearly," he gestured to Anastasia in the other room, "they work just fine, thank you."

"Right…" Lestrade said. He shifted around in his seat. The conversation had reached a level of uncomfortable he had hoped he wouldn't have to deal with until at least noon, but with Sherlock, it seemed like his life's goal was to get to that level as fast as possible. "There are certain things we need to talk about. Processes that need to be carried out, forms to be completed…"

"I'm not sure what you mean," Sherlock replied.

Lestrade paused in his list, "you do want custody of her, don't you?"

"Why would I?" he asked.

Both Watson and Lestrade were taken aback. Neither of them could imagine that the extent of Sherlock's callousness would extend towards his own child. Sherlock launched into an explanation of his denial, "until a few moments ago, I had no idea I had even fathered a child. She has lived her life without me thus far, and I, without her. Both my work, and my behaviour, are not suitable for caring for a child, and by placing her in my care I see no other outcome than a terrible one."

"You were listed in her mother's will- " said Lestrade.

"That places me under no obligation."

"And on the birth certificate." he finished. "As of this moment, you already have the makings of being her legal guardian. Now, you do have other options, but if you want my opinion-"

"I don't." Sherlock stated.

"Sherlock…" Lestrade ran his hand over his face. When he finally removed it, the exasperation was clear. "the girl just lost her mum, through a violent murder no less, she needs someone right now. She needs her father. Maybe you aren't parent material, but you and Anastasia… have more in common than you think. It's creepy, really."

Sherlock didn't say anything for more than 10 minutes. It was the longest John had seen him going without uttering a single word. It would have been a refreshing break from him showing off if it weren't for the heaviness of the situation that had inspired such silence.

Eventually, he spoke. "You said her mother was murdered?"

. . . . . . . . . .

Anastasia sat in her designated chair, next to the detective's desk. For a while, the Lestrade had sat with her, talked to her, told her jokes. It made her feel better, but that all ended when two men came to the station, and the three of them took their conversation to an adjacent room.

She had a couple of her books to keep her company, of course, but they weren't the same anymore. They were both books her mother had loved, and now every other word was her mum's name, and every woman character that came across the pages, she couldn't help but feel would meet a horrible demise. Eventually, she just gave up, and sat in her chair without doing much of anything.

Throughout her stay with the police, Anastasia had been told several things about her father. One, that he was brilliant. Two, that he was crazy. And lastly, that if he offers to demonstrate his latest experiment, to always, ALWAYS, say no. Especially if he mentions anything along the lines of eyeballs, or shrunken heads.

One of the police officers walked past her. Officer Miller, if she remembered right. He stopped when he noticed her. "So Sherlock's really you dad, huh?" Anastasia simply shrugged. She didn't really know WHOSE daughter she was anymore, and if she was being honest, she didn't care. The man kept talking to her, but she didn't pay any attention to what he was saying. More often than not, words about her supposed father were testimonies to his madness, and she didn't care to hear another one of those. Instead, she looked the man up and down, taking note of things that stood out to her:

Bad breath.

Stained uniform.

Stiff movement.

Messy hair.

Everywhere she looked, there was all this information, all these signals coming from every direction, all these messages people seemed to be shouted about themselves. No matter how many times she turned it over in her head, she had no idea what any of it meant. She felt like a spider with 8 eyes that could see everything, but a brain that didn't know what she was looking at. It was one of the more frustrating aspects of her life, and something that her mother had never really understood.

"Thank Sherlock, really, thank you." Anastasia recognized the voice of Lestrade, and slid off of her chair to go meet him. The two others were there as well.

"Anastasia," Lestrade began, "This is Sherlock, the man you've heard so much about. Sherlock, this is your daughter, Anastasia." When he was done introducing the two, he added, "From now on, Sherlock is to be your legal guardian. While he certainly is...difficult, I believe this arrangement will benefit the both of you."

Sherlock looked down at her. Anastasia looked up. She had no idea what to do in this particular situation, so instead of attempting to shake hands, as her mum usually prompted her to do when being introduced, she didn't move. Sherlock did much the same.

"And I'm- I'm John." the blonde one stammered. He gave her a warm smile, trying to ward off the awkwardness. It didn't do much to lift the mood, but Anastasia appreciated the effort.

"Nice to meet you," she said.

"Do you have all your things?" Sherlock asked. Anastasia nodded, and went back to the chair, grabbed her backpack and her bear, and went back to Sherlock, John, and Lestrade. "I suppose we can be off, then."

He made his way to the door with John and Anastasia following close behind, but before he exited he said one more thing to Lestrade. "Oh, and Officer Miller has been sleeping here for at least 3 days. You might want to talk to him."

Author's Note: One more rewritten chapter, yay! Might go back and edit later, we'll see. Please review and let me know what you think. Do you like this version better so far? Notice anything I can improve on? Let me know! Thanks for reading!