I do not own BBC Sherlock
.o0Sherlock0o.
"John, wake up." Sherlock's voice called. I blinked slowly opening my eyes. I was warm and comfortable, a comfortable weight rested on top of me. Scarlett had climbed on me while I was napping on the couch, she had fallen asleep on my chest, small puffs of her warm breath tickled my chin.
"Yes. Yep, I'm up." I muttered, still ruddy with sleep. Sherlock glanced at Scarlett then me.
"Lestrade called, there has been a murder." Sherlock said a large smile spread over his usually stoic features.
"Who will watch, Scarlett?" I asked instantly, the child still limp across my chest. Her long lashes flicked against her pale cheeks.
"We will have to take her. Mrs. Hudson is out, crime waits for no one." Sherlock beamed.
"Sherlock it's good to- you brought Scarlett?" Lestrade shouted, his face twisted in disbelief. The still sleepy child rubbed her eye as my jumper hung from her shoulder childishly. It was a warm night, but I was still concerned about her lack of proper clothing.
"Bonsoir, onspectoir." Her accent gave way while she was sleepy. Sherlock had spoken to her in mostly french for the two years of her life, seeing it fit since they lived in France. It would be a hard habit to break, but we planned on keeping her bilingual.
"John, I can't believe you agreed to this!" Lestrade said, I flushed. Of course I hadn't. But to be honest, I was dying to visit a crime scene myself. Sherlock was giving him an annoyed look, he pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his slacks. He tied it around Scarletts eyes and she giggled.
"There. Come, Scarlett. Let's investigate" He said, leading her to the warehouse by the hand.
"Papa, let's investigate!" She called to me, waving her free hand in the air for me to grab. I did so, pulling her away from Sherlock.
"Absolutely not, stay here with Lestrade. We should be out soon." I promised, pulling the handkerchief from off her head. She pouted, begrudgingly taking Lestrade's hand.
"Chataigne." She called the inspector, causing Sherlock to snicker. I had no idea what it meant. I hurried to Sherlock as we entered the packaging room. It was a large warehouse on the wharf, empty besides the fowl smell of fish.
"Oh, God. What is that smell?" I complained, coughing slightly. Sherlock walked over to the body, crouching down to inspect it. He glanced at the mans shoes and scowled, sniffing his gaping mouth.
"He took a tumble." I noticed, seeing how his body was skewed and his shoes scuffed, he was obviously drunk before he died.
"No signs of alcohol on his breath." Sherlock said, leaning back. He stood and retraced the mans steps, back to the office. The man had knocked over a few things on his was into the packaging room.
"He was stumbling." I pointed out. Sherlock was ignoring me, zoning in some files laying on the mans desk before smirking. The door opened and Scarlett peeked in.
"Scarlett, you were to wait outside." I scolded, she pouted running up to me to grip my leg.
"No, Papa. I want to be with you and Daddy." She said, her full lips trembling. I sighed, rubbing a hand over my forehead.
"You can't go into the packaging room." I warned, it was bad enough we had a four year old on the crime scene. The last thing we needed was-
"Why is that man laying on the ground, it's stinky." She said, scrunching her nose cutely. I felt my stomach coil.
"You saw him?" I asked, and she nodded happily.
"Yes, I thought he might be hurt." She said, a worried frown tugging at her identical lips. Sherlock rifled through a cabinet, not seeming bothered at all.
"Sherlock ..." I said, and he glanced up with disdain.
"He was sleeping." Sherlock lied in a monotone voice. Scarlett crossed her arms, glaring at him huffily.
"Daddy, that's a lie! I tried to wake him." She said, tugging at my shirt and pointing accusingly at her father.
"Papa, daddy is lying." She repeated, I smothered her hair and picked her up.
"Fine, he's dead." Sherlock said, becoming angry now. I knew he hated being bothered when investigating a crime scene, but this was his daughter.
"I'll take Scarlett home, while you finish up here." I said, I saw the relief on his face and he tossed me a grateful look.
"Thank you." He sighed heavily, scouring the files.
"Thump, thump, thump." Scarlett sung happily, pressing the stethoscope to my chest as she sat in my lap. I read a book over her shoulder, lazily stroking her silken hair.
"Papa, how did that man die?" She asked suddenly. I closed my eyes and tried not to pull a face. Setting down my book. I offered her a easy smile, which she returned.
"We aren't sure. That is your Daddy's job, to find out how a person died." I said, her legs swung and tiny feet patted against my shins.
"Is it bad, that I saw him?" She asked, looking guilty as she fumbled with the stethoscope now in her lap. I shook my head.
"It's not bad, I just- I don't think a little girl should see things like that. You might get nightmares-"
"I won't, I promise! It's not scary." She ensured, her eyes wide.
"I'm glad you're not scared. You're very brave." I complimented and she blushed. Compliments were rare for her, seeing as I worked and she spent most of her time with her harsh father.
"You won't leave me again, okay?" She said, gripping my thumb in her tiny palm. I reached around, holding her hand, I felt my brow knit together.
"Scarlett, sometimes you will have to be separated from Sherlock and I. That's part of growing up." I pushed, and she sniffed, her eyes going glassy at the thought.
"No, Papa. I don't like that, I'll stay with you." She panicked, her arms reaching around to cling to my neck. I rubbed her back soothingly.
"Are you scared you'll loose us like you lost your mother?" I asked gently, my voice soft in her ear. I'd noticed how she clung to us. How she hated being watched by Mrs. Hudson, despite adoring the woman. Scarlett nodded into my neck, I felt her warm tears and rocked her carefully, swaying to ease her tiny sobs.
"We will never leave you, darling. I promise you that. We love you very much." I said against her warm hair.
"I love you too, Papa." She said, falling asleep tucked under my chin.
Sherlock appeared behind me as I tucked her into his bed. Leaning against the door frame.
"I solved it." He said cheekily, but his voice was hushed. I tucked the covers up to her chin and she rolled over, grasping my hand while she slept. Prying away from her gently, I rested my lips against her chubby knuckles before laying her hand beneath the covers.
"Fantastic, tell me what happened." I whispered, brushing a lock from her forehead. Turning around Sherlock was giving me a smug look.
"What?" I asked, he motioned for me to follow him out of the room and I did. I would follow him anywhere.
"You always wanted children." He pointed out as I quietly shut the door, walking up to him where he stood in the kitchen, his hip resting on the counter.
"Yeah, so?" I said, reaching behind him to get started on a cuppa. I let out an annoyed huff when I had to stand on my tip toe to reach the top shelf. Sherlock spun behind me, trapping me against the counter, his chest bumped against my back.
"I gave you a child." He said lowly into my ear. My stomach knotted, as he reached around me. He easily retrieved my favorite mug, slipping it between my slack fingers.
"Scarlett is your daughter." I said, but my voice held no real strength. His arms enveloped me, pulling me back into his body. It's was almost a hug, but his hands remained flattened on the counter before my belly.
"She is our daughter." Sherlock said, his nose grazing at the exposed skin behind my ear. I shivered at the sudden chill when his body vanished, he headed over to his microscope. My hands where shaking so violently that I nearly dropped the mug. What the hell was that?
"Make me one too, will you?" He hummed, seemingly pleased with himself. It was all in my head. I was sure of it. I was hallucinating, Sherlock would never be so intimate. Never say something so intimate. I made us the tea, desperate for him to fill the silence where my thoughts raced.
"The case, tell me how you solved it." I said shakily. He kept his eyes fixed on the scope, but answered.
"Mercury poisoning. Lack of coordination and speech impairment. Our victim was one of the prime consumers of the factories fish, workers got specials. This particular man noticed his ailments and went to a doctor who told him his symptoms. He tried blackmailing the foreman into giving him compensation money for his silence on his mercury poisoning, and if he didn't he, would go to the public and tell everyone they had bad fish. The foreman killed him in a rage." Sherlock explained. I nodded, everything fit so perfectly. It was like I had seen the picture, watched the pieces fall apart, and then forgotten how they fit. Sherlock was the one who always knew how to put the pieces back.
"Brilliant. Truly." I sighed. What it must be like, being so intelligent. He outsmarted the entire Scotland Yard. Sherlock's eyes were glossy as I handed him his cuppa, they caressed me. Igniting a fire he gazed at my lips down to my neck, then skipped to my torso and hips. I shook my head, clearing my throat.
Sherlock would never do something so ... lusty. He was merely deducing me, like he did with everyone. Those eyes didn't have the same look in them, they weren't calculating. Quite the opposite in fact, they seemed dazed. But still, the idea of being goggled at by Sherlock was preposterous.
"Delicious." Sherlock growled throatily, and I felt my knees nearly buckle.
"What?" I rasped, gripping the desk for support. I swayed and he wore the most devilish look, holding up the cup.
"The tea, it's delicious." He said, and I gave him a weak smile. I couldn't help but notice that he had yet to take a sip.
"I think this will be good for her." I said, glancing up at Sherlock who was looking at the house in distaste.
"This is going to be a nightmare." Sherlock gritted, I took a step towards the door and wished I hadn't. It swung open and a pile of boys rushed out, stampeding passed us.
"Hey, get back here! That's not a toy!" Lestrade yelled, hanging out the window. I looked on in horror as the children tossed a handgun back and forth. Greg caught sight of us and smiled.
"Hey, boys. Come on in." Lestrade grinned from a window. When I gaped at the four boys wrestling for possession of the weapon Greg waved a hand over to them.
"No worries, it's not loaded." He assured. Sherlock stepped into the house, Scarlett clung to shoulders, craning her neck to look at the other children.
"How does Mycroft handle this." I heard Sherlock grunt under his breath as he saw the toy's stern all over the nice house. Some clothes dangled from the stairway, and there where roller blades handing from the expensive looking chandelier.
"Scarlett, love, how are you?" Greg said, patting her cheek. I couldn't help but notice he was wearing a frilly white apron in front of the stove. She nuzzled into his hand, smiling sweetly.
"Very good, chataigne." She said, using her nickname for him. I set her down and she went to Greg's side. She did like Greg, she just hated being parted from Sherlock and I.
"Jenny, come down and meet Scarlett." Greg called. A child appeared around the corner, she had mousy brown hair and her father's handsome features. She was nearly the same age as Scarlett.
"Bonjour!" Scarlett said, scampering up to Jenny. It occurred to me she must not have gotten to play with children her age for quite some time. The child's eyes widened and her tiny mouth made an 'o'.
"You look like a princess." Jenny gushed, touching Scarlett's satin curls. We had forced her to wear one of Mycroft's simpler dresses, and I'd brushed her lustrous hair and pulled half of it up in a ribbon.
"I do?" Scarlett whimpered, tugging at her dress in embarrassment. I winced, of course she would think it was an insult. A few days ago I had been caught playing 'tea party' with Scarlett, when Sherlock proceeded to comment on my 'princess-like' grace, which then induced me to throw a tantrum.
"She means that as a compliment. She's saying you're pretty." I clarified as Scarlett pouted selfconciously. Scarlett blinked and thanked the girl quietly, becoming shy. She tucked herself behind Sherlock's long legs.
"Look at that, you made a new friend, Jenny." Greg grinned, flipping over a wad of meat on the grill.
"Are you sure it's okay, leaving her here?" I asked Lestrade, he looked up in confusion.
"Well, why wouldn't it be? I don't mind, what's one more kid to watch!" He laughed, shoveling the meat onto the last empty bun.
"Jenny, go get your brothers." Greg said, wiping his hands on the apron before picking up the plates and setting them on the table.
"You guys want to stay for dinner, we have plenty." Lestrade said, poking out his tongue as he balanced the plates. I helped him, and he tossed me an appreciative smile.
"No, we're both doing a private case. We need to hurry." Sherlock spoke up, oddly quite. He sidestepped out of the hallway as the stampede trampled into the living room.
"Dinner's ready, dimwits!" Jenny shouted up the stairs, two more boys came down. The table was filled with six boys, and the two girls. Scarlett was seated between two little wankers who where elbowing her to get to the food. She ducked under them and took a new seat at the edge of the table, by Jenny.
"She'll be fine." Greg said, biting into his own meal. The children where all talking loudly, and Sherlock looked uncomfortable. I bent down by Scarlett, she was already having a conversation with Jenny.
"Scar, we're going to go, okay. You remember how to use your phone?" I asked, she gave me a hesitant nod.
"You call us if you need anything, we won't be far. I love you, sweetheart." I said, brushing my lips over her forehead. She pulled me into her small embrace.
"Bye, Papa." She said, biting her lip. She didn't want us to leave, but she was trying to be cooperative. Sherlock made sure she was obedient, she had to be with such a demanding father. He was standing nearly in the kitchen, watching from the hallway. He made no move to say goodbye.
She lowered her head slightly, heartbroken. He sighed, spreading his arms in the smallest gesture, it sent her flying from her seat and across the hallway to barrel against his tall frame. He lifted her into one of his rare hugs, and she returned it full force.
"Be good." He said, setting her down. She nodded and went back to her seat, waving as we left the house.