The Most Interesting Case
"Interesting." Sherlock murmured, as his daughter turned her head towards the door when the doorbell rang. "Look Molly, she recognises the doorbell. But is she looking that way because that's where the sound came from, or because she knows it is usually followed by someone coming through that door? This might require further investigation."
"It won't be followed by someone coming through the door if you don't answer it, Sherlock." Molly prompted him, her hands busy doing up Eleanor's baby grow after changing her nappy.
"Mrs Hudson will get it." Sherlock waved her comment off.
"Sherlock. She's our landlady, not our housekeeper." Molly reminded him, smirking a little at her own impression of the older woman.
"Oh goodness, she's got you at it." Sherlock griped, getting up and going down to answer the door. "Don't worry, Mrs Hudson, I've got it." He told her, as she emerged from her own apartment, about to get the door for him, and looking truly shocked that he was getting it himself.
He opened the door to find an equally shocked looking DI Lestrade.
"You feeling alright, Sherlock?" he asked in laughter-tinted confusion.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Sherlock asked, unamused.
"Well, for starters you're answering your own door." He pointed out. "And then there's the cases I sent this morning. I really didn't think you'd bother with the first, but felt certain the second would grab your attention. Instead, you emailed the answer to the first and completely ignored the other."
"They were both ridiculously obvious, but the latter required legwork. I'm far too tied up for that right now. If you're still stuck on it, I suggest a more thorough investigation of the house itself. The houses on that street are all 3 bedrooms, yet your report only mentions two bedrooms being searched." Sherlock explained
"And you couldn't have included that in your email? We'd have the case solved by now!" Lestrade complained.
An excited squeal came from upstairs, followed by a cat's hiss, and then a baby's cry.
"I was distracted." Sherlock murmured, already turning and hurrying back up the stairs. Since he hadn't closed the door, Lestrade assumed he was invited to follow, eager to meet the youngest Holmes.
"What happened? Did he scratch her?" Sherlock demanded the second he got upstairs, going straight to Molly and lifting the baby out of her arms to examine her himself.
"She grabbed his tail when he tried to run past. I don't think he scratched her, just startled her by hissing." Molly explained, wrapping her arms around herself and looking rather bereft at having her daughter snatched out of her arms again. Post natal depression hadn't hit hard, but she was not unaffected. She knew Sherlock couldn't help himself sometimes, he was so caught up in his adoration of his child, which was a joy to behold, but sometimes he did monopolize her. He did notice Molly's reaction though, and once he was satisfied Eleanor was unharmed, he passed her back apologetically.
Thankfully Lestrade wasn't currently paying much attention to the exchange, engrossed in examining the baby development books strewn over the desk, and the charts and notes pinned to the wall, charting everything from sleeping patterns to fine motor control. He looked over to the kitchen table to see two bottles of milk next to the microscope.
"Please tell me you haven't been experimenting on her, Sherlock?" The detective grimaced, before noticing the baby looking at him, and smiling at her awkwardly.
"They're called observations. All childcare institutions do observations on the children in their care to make sure they're developing correctly. I'm just being more thorough." Sherlock replied haughtily.
"She's less than a week old." Lestrade pointed out, still pulling faces to make Eleanor giggle.
"Oh and yet, there is so much to be learnt from her!" Sherlock said enthusiastically, looking proud.
"Don't worry, I've been making sure he doesn't go too far with her." Molly whispered to Lestrade, though not quite quiet enough for Sherlock not to hear.
"Oh Molly, I keep telling you, she would have been fine. It's a well-known, scientific factthat babies are born with the ability to swim. And in the unlikely event she hadn't been able, I would have immediately rescued her." Sherlock protested.
"If you want to take her swimming Sherlock, that's fine, we can take her to the pool and fit her with floats like responsible parents, not just drop her into a completely full bathtub!" Molly argued back.
"I wasn't going to drop her, I was going to let her go lightly. Restricting movement with floats is exactly the reason why most babies struggle to swim, she needs to go without, and so help me if I'm a bit nervous about starting her off in a big pool with other people splashing about. I thought the bath would be a safe option to start with." Sherlock explained, his arguments surprisingly reasonable, despite his unreasonable tone.
"Perhaps I'd better go…" Lestrade said, backing towards the door as he sensed a full blown fight starting up.
"But you haven't even held her yet!" Molly protested, dropping the argument just like that.
"Yes you need to hold her, it's the optimal distance for her to properly take in your face and remember you. She already recognises John and Mary when they come, and Mrs Hudson of course." Sherlock backed her up.
"Oh well, alright." Lestrade smiled, taking Eleanor gently from Molly. It had been a long time since he'd been able to hold either of his like this, and it was a wonderfully nostalgic feeling.
"Eleanor, meet Detective Inspector Lestrade. I know that's a bit of a mouthful, so you can call him Uncle Greg. Or Granddad." Sherlock added with a smirk.
"Oi, watch it you." Lestrade warned.
"Actually I think she prefers that, she smiled when I said it." Sherlock teased.
"Shut up"
AN: This one is for superlc529, who pointed out how I had neglected our favorite DI a little in this story. Thanks again for all the reviews and follows :D