John left and Sherlock heard the front door bang as he left.
"Mary's" he thought, "he's gone to Mary's, most likely to moan and gripe and then try and get off with her. How dull, boring, how quiet it must be not to be me"
He sighed and stretched his long legs out, he regarded the door in front of him with interest. He still didn't understand why Squish was upset. He hadn't agreed with Moriarty because what he said was untrue, and to reply in such a way was a waste of time. Besides if he replied, he was encouraging him and surely that was just as bad?
He reached out for the box that he kept underneath the sofa and took out three nicotine patches. He leaned back as he felt the nicotine course through him, yep definitely a three patch problem. No, he still didn't understand. If all he had to do was tell Jim that he was wrong then why did it matter, the opposite was so obvious.
There was only one thing that he could do. Sighing he got to his feet and walked to the door. He opened it and stepped into the room. Squish was lying on her bed, above the covers clutching two toys to her chest. As she heard him come in she turned around.
"Sherlock. Fuck off" she said, in a flat monotone.
"You're upset" he stated.
"No shit Sherlock, great deduction" she said sarcastically, turning over and facing towards the window that opened into the alley behind the house.
"You're upset" he continued "because you think that I agree with Moriarty. That you were just an experiment to me. And that I only keep you around because it amuses me to see you try." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
"Congratulations, ten out of ten" Squish sat up and gave him a round of applause, "is this part where I fawn over you? Tell you how amazing and clever you are? Amazing? Brilliant? Just like John? Because I'm not. Not this time"
He stared at her impassively. Her face hardened.
"God, I can't win with you can I? I could have been adopted by anyone, a normal family. I could have friends, go to school be normal. Instead I got you."
Now that hurt, but Sherlock still just gazed at her without a reaction.
"Say something then. Tell me I'm wrong; tell me that I'm not a failed experiment. That you keep me around because you care."
She looked at him expectantly,
"You can't, can you? Jesus that's all I am, a fucking head in a fridge." Her face crumpled and she turned to face the wall.
Sherlock sighed, and walked over to the bed. He sat down on it and reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. Awkwardly, he patted her shoulder.
"I never told you have I? About why I got you?"
She slowly turned to face him. Siting up she brushed the hair out of her eyes nd wiped her face. He could see where she had bitten her lip to stop the tears from leaking out.
"No. Only that Mycroft did all the paper work."
"I had just left university…"
15 Years Previously
"Sherlock, what are you going to do with yourself?" said Mycroft as he sipped tea from a bone china cup. The two Holmes' were having tea at the Ritz. All Mycroft's doing, thought Sherlock bitterly. All he had done was commandeer a London bus to stop a small terrorist cell from poisoning a museum and look where he had ended up. He didn't understand what the fuss was over; it had only been a small gun. Mycroft was still talking,
"And it's all so upsetting for Mummy"
Sherock snapped to attention.
"You told her?" he asked incredulously "That is underhanded in the extreme Mycroft, to try and blackmail into helping you with this ridiculous government position by telling tales on me."
"We installed you in that flat, under the impression that you had some sort of job in mind" his brother said dryly, "As far as I can see all you have succeeded in doing is hijacking a bus and needed help getting released without a record I might add!"
"Oh please" snorted Sherlock, "What do I care about police records? Their so easy to hack it's almost not worth the effort."
Mycroft looked at Sherlock strangely, almost with concern in his eyes.
"We're worried about you. Can't you see that? You're aimless Sherlock and it isn't good for you. I see you've continued your little habit as well." Mycroft looked over his cup at Sherlock, eyes glinting.
"Yes and how is the diet going Mycroft, you've lost what now half a stone?"
"3, well this has been fun Sherlock. But I really must be going" Mycroft picked up his umbrella, "If there is anything I can help with, you have my number"
Sherlock waited until he had gone before leaving. He walked out into the street and stopped a taxi. They drove in silence and when he got out and he remained silent as he paid the driver. Once he got inside his flat, he sat down and resting his chin on his arched fingertips thought about what Mycroft said.
Two days later, three repetitions of Bach, ten nicotine patches and four gunshots later, Sherlock had a plan. He called Mycroft and told him what he wanted, then he sat back and wited for the next stage.
Mycroft came around the next day.
"You cannot be serious Sherlock." Where his first words. "Even for you this is ridiculous," his voice did not raise above its normal pleasant tone, but Sherlock could tell he was rattled.
"Why not?" Sherlock drawled, "It appears to me to be an almost perfect solution. I'm occupied for a significant period of time which allows both you to continue running the government. The police don't need to worry about me commandeering another bus and Mummy gets a grandchild."
Mycroft sighed. "You're talking about a child Sherlock. Not another one of your appendages in a fridge, a child Who will need feeding, clothing, bathing, changing and educating"
"Yes I'm well aware of what a child needs Mycroft. I am aware of what it would need. Which is why this is a perfect plan, so much of my time would be spent looking after a child, I wouldn't have time to threaten civilians with a firearm."
"A valid point" Mycroft said dryly "But I'm not sure whether I should allow you to do this or at the least involve myself".
"Look at it from this point of view brother. I'm involving you, unwillingly in my plans and if you don't agree to help I will do so anyway without your permission and then I will simply disappear. Imagine how upset Mummy will be then?" Sherlock knew then from the look on Mycroft's face at such a prospect.
And so it was that a week later ,after Mycroft had insisted that Sherlock get a crib and clothed for the child, Sherlock was picked up and taken to St Bartholomew Hospital. There he was escorted up to the children's ward where there about twenty babies.
"Shocking isn't that this many children are abandoned outside a hospital in a week?" said Mycroft.
"You don't have to be here" said Sherlock
"And miss the chance to meet my niece or nephew. I think that you know me better than that brother." Mycroft looked across at the younger man, "You have ten minutes before I come back. That should be enough time for you to make a choice and with that he strode off flanked as ever by his assistant.
Sherlock entered the nursery. There were two rows of babies when of boys and one of girls. He walked down the narrow aisle; he had already decided that none of the crying babies deserved his attention. Unfortunately that didn't leave many, he was nearing the end of the row he noticed that he was being watched.
One baby who was roughly two day's old, was staring at him intently. He walked over to her crib; she was a girl as connoted by her pink blanket and her eyes were very dark as she stared. She just lay there not blinking or breaking his gaze, surrounded by her crying compatriots. He reached out a long finger not quite sure what he intended. But it didn't matter because his finger was grabbed and held by a tiny hand.
Without even realising he was doing it, Sherlock Homes, master of the cold face, reached down and scooped up the tiny body. Holding her against his chest, Sherlock wondered what was going on. In his big complicated brain, a new file was being created it was simply called My daughter. The child seemingly content that she had completed her plan had fallen asleep on his chest. And without another glance at the remaining children he walked out.
As Sherlock finished his narration, became aware that Squish hadn't moved throughout the time he had been talking.
"So I was an experiment?" she asked.
He thought about it, "not so much and experiment as an idea, and Mycroft made sure to say that I could give you back at any point. "
"But you didn't." She looked at him through her lashes.
"No, because I didn't want to"
"Why not? I can't imagine that the late nights, and the changings and the making sure I was fed wasn't really your thing"
"I don't know" He was being honest. He had always known that the option was available if he wanted it, but he hadn't ever wanted to. Squish sighed and sat down next to him heavily.
"God, I hate you sometimes Sherlock," she said, "but for better or worse you're the only dad I'm ever gonna get."
She got up and sighed. She went and opened her wardrobe and started flicking through t-shirts. Sherlock got up and went to the door.
"Sherlock"
"Yes?"
"Thank you, not will you please get out so I can get dressed."
Smirking, he left the room.