Chapter 44: Markets and Milk.

"Alice thought the whole thing very absurd, but they all looked so grave that she did not dare to laugh; and as she could not think of anything to say, she simply bowed and took the thimble, looking as solemn as she could."

-Lewis Carrol, Alice in Wonderland.

"Sammy, get back here!"

"Never!"

"Jim, stop that, you're encouraging her!" "Jim, damnit, don't do that!"

"Try and stop me!"

"You're both incredibly immature! We're in public!"

"Wheee! Again, again!"

"Sure thing!"

"Jim, no, don't-" John was being ignored. He shook his head and sighed, then stood back to watch the chaos unfold. The three of them were at an outdoor market, and Jim and Sammy were being utterly unmanageable. Currently, they had found a semi-open spot, and Jim was spinning Sammy around by her arms, until she came off the ground and was spun through the air, laughing all the way. John was just worried about Sammy kicking passerby, or Jim letting go of the Misfit, or walking into a fruit stand, or…

"Stop worrying, Johnny boy! I'm a genius, I'm sure I can calculate the average arc of a little girl's feet and make sure she doesn't bump into anything."

"Yeah, but what if someone who isn't a genius walks too close? Come on, you can do this at home, put her down now."

"Spoil-sport," Jim muttered, but he put Sammy down.

"Spoil-sport daddy!" Sammy cried, pointing at John. John rolled his eyes, and she ran over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "It's okay, I still love you. But my other daddy is still more fun."

"And isn't that the truth," Jim said, walking over and slinging an arm over John's shoulders. John gave a mental sigh, but leaned into the other man anyways.

"Yes, well that's because you never grew up. That leaves me to babysit both of you."

"You should stop being so serious, doctor my doctor," Jim said. It was a new nickname of his, and John was unsure as to whether or not he liked it. "Come on, let's do something crazy."

"I moved in with you," John said. "I pretended to be a criminal mastermind in front of the only consulting detective in the world. I killed two members of the Russian mafia for you. I think I've done enough crazy."

"Yeah, but that's serious crazy. Let's go do something fun crazy. I want to see if you're even capable. Hmmm…. But what? Sammy, what should we make your daddy do?"

"Woah, hang on, make me do? This is sounding way too sinister. Sammy, please don't be mean to me, pick something nice…"

"Umm…" The little girl tapped her chin and stared into the distance. Both fathers waited in silence, to see who she would side with. "John, you must put a cake into Jim's face." The words were delivered with the over-seriousness of a child issuing a command.

"It's a compromise!" Jim crowed, and threw his arms to the sky. "I knew you had it in you, Sammy-girl!" The honey-blonde girl just smiled, blinking at him.

"So, I still have to do something ridiculous, but it's also something that puts Jim at a disadvantage," John said. "Good work!" Jim had been lecturing the Misfits on problem-solving and bargaining, which was interesting to watch. Obviously, this had been a small test.

"Can I choose the flavor?" Jim asked, grinning.

"No, it's going to be chocolate mousse. Makes the most mess," decided John.

"Devious," Jim said. "So, one cake, three bags of marshmallows, five containers of bowtie pasta, as the kids have so creatively named farfalle, and one carton of milk. Yes?"

"You got it," John said. "Split up?"

"Naw, we'll do it all together. What if you wandered off on me?"

"I'm sure that I'd find my way back to Brewer's. Or you would find me. Probably a bit of both. That always seems to happen, doesn't it?"

"We're simply meant to be," Jim sang, placing both hands over his heart and looking like William Shatner playing Romeo; over-acting an over-dramatic character.

"Come on, you ridiculous b-" John remembered Sammy just in time "-rilliant man."

"Good catch," Jim said, and then marched off, leading the way.

The sort-of-family wove among the stalls, picking up what they needed. This market only had one security camera, which they stayed away from, so it was perfect for their weekend shopping. Jim wasn't even disguised, although he was dressed down. People only saw what they expected to see, but still, Westwood suits and slicked-back hair might raise memories for a lot of people.

Moriarty had admitted to John that he now regretted showing up, with all those cameras on him, in Westwood. It was coming back to bite him, now.

"Take your pick," Jim said, and gestured towards a stall that was filled with cakes. John went up to the seller.

"Hi," he said. "I'm looking for a dark chocolate mousse cake, if you've got one?"

"Certainly," said the seller, and brought one out from his tent. John grinned as he looked at it, anticipating being able to throw it into a certain criminal genius's face. He should take pictures and send them to Sherlock. That would be brilliant. Or he could get Sammy to record it. That was even better. He gestured Jim over, and made him pay for his own punishment. The glare that Jim sent his way told him that the other man was not unaware of the irony. John just smiled.

They continued on to get the pasta and the milk, having already picked up the marshmallows. After they had everything they needed, John handed the bag to Sammy, and led them to a small field behind the market.

"Hang on, I'll get the cake," he said. He bent down to grab the it, and murmured in Sammy's ear. "Record it." The little girl stifled a giggle, and gave a barely-perceptible nod.

"Got it," John said, and straightened with the chocolate mousse cake in one hand. He took off the lid, and bounced it slightly in one hand, measuring the weight carefully. He walked towards Moriarty casually, dark eyes following John's every movement. He finally came to a halt, three feet away from the consulting criminal. "Ready?" he asked, both to Jim and to Sammy.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Jim said.

"Go for it!" laughed Sammy. So John took a deep breath, let it out, and then flung the cake at Moriarty's face. It stuck there for a moment, then started to fall, but John dashed forwards and caught it again on the plate. There was mousse and icing all over Jim's face, even in his hair. John started to laugh, Sammy started to laugh, Jim started to laugh, and every time one of them calmed down, they would hear the other two laughing away, and it wouldn't take them long to collapse back into giggles.

"Jesus Christ, I can't believe I just threw a cake into the one and only consulting criminal's face. Sherlock isn't going to believe this," John gasped.

"Daddy, your face," Sammy managed, before descending back into gasps of laughter.

"I hate you both," Jim said, but he was laughing too, so it sort of lost the effect.

Eventually, they all calmed down. Jim scraped the icing off his face, looked at all the mousse on his fingers, and then innocently put them into his mouth, sucking off the sweetness with a loud, indecent sound.

"Jim," John said warningly.

"What?" The criminal genius said innocently. "I'm not going to throw it on the ground." He ran two fingers along the side of his face, collecting the icing, and licked them off extravagantly. "You two should have some as well. Good thing you caught it, John. It would be a shame to let a cake like that go to waste. It's simply divine." John looked down at the squished, deformed cake that he was holding, then shrugged and took a bite out of the side. Jim wasn't lying; it was really, really good.

"Oh, god, we have to go back and get another one," he said dreamily. Sammy stole a handful and ate it, her expression lighting up.

"Good taste in cakes," Jim said.

"Only the best for you," John said, taking a bow, careful to keep the cake steady.

"Of course," Jim said. "I have good taste in doctors. So there."

"Doctors," said Sammy distantly.

"Oh no," John said. "Now you've done it." He poked Sammy in the side. "Hey! I'm the doctor in this conversation."

"The Doctor," Sammy repeated, grinning at nothing but blue sky.

"This is all your fault for showing the kids Doctor Who," John told his co-parent sternly. Jim just shrugged. "Well, come on, let's get back home. I've got to put the water on for dinner. Jim, why don't you watch some TV with Sammy?"

"Yeah!" Sammy cheered, finally coming out of her distracted staring into space. "Doctor Who!"

"I think I can manage that," Jim said, who was mostly clean now. He had produced a handkerchief from one of his pockets and was trying to get all of the icing out of his hair. Later in the evening, after the Misfits had left for their jobs, John would finally point out the piece that he had missed, and the narrow smear of chocolate down the side of his nose.

Ooooo0000ooooO

The next day, while sitting in his flat, Sherlock Holmes received a text with a file attached that made him laugh for the first time in two years.

A/N: Yes, I know, it's a purely OOC, silly chapter. I've had a rough week, and I just wanted to write fluff, so that's what you're getting.

On the OTHER hand, if you go back a chapter, I filled in the shower scene for everyone who wanted it. Especially for ChosenOfAshurha, who offered me goats and maybe gold.

It IS M-rated, but I really don't want to bump the rating of this fic, so I'm just gonna leave the overall rating at T and put warnings on the chapters that have M stuff in them. And hope that I don't traumatize any 12-year-olds.