A/N: Please read and review. I love hearing what readers think!

Sherlock's first morning as a father was surprisingly uneventful. Alex came bounding into the living room fairly early, but the detective himself was already up and to work, having had very little sleep the night before. He greeted the boy before going to make some toast with the bread Mrs. Hudson had brought him. He'd probably have to go shopping sometime soon, but for the moment there were more important things to do.

As Alex ate, Sherlock busied himself with getting ready for the outing with Lestrade. The text he'd received this morning said they were busy dealing with a recent murder case, but that Sherlock could meet him at the crime scene and they could head off to investigate the rest together. The only issue was that Sherlock had just taken into account the fact that he probably shouldn't leave a five year old alone for half the day.

Considering, Sherlock walked over to the doorway and yelled for Mrs. Hudson down the stairs. She appeared in under three minutes, flour all over her apron and a bit in her hair as well. Alex giggled even as she shot the both of them a miffed look.

"I'm not your housekeeper, Sherlock. What is it?"

"Can you watch Alex for the day?"

"I'm not your sitter either," Mrs. Hudson chided. "Any other day I'd be glad to watch the dear, but Mrs. Turner and I are getting together for lunch with a few other friends of ours and I'm busy cooking up a storm. He'd be so bored sitting around watching me at the stove, and I think the ladies would prefer we didn't have a child hearing all our silly gossip. No, it just wouldn't do."

Sherlock frowned and glanced back at the boy. He hadn't really considered the subject of a sitter yet, considering he'd often done that job himself ever since John had trusted him enough the first time.

After Mrs. Hudson had scuttled back down to her apartment, he pulled out his phone and made a quick call.

"Oh, hello?" Molly's sweet voice came through the other end of the line. "What's the matter, Sherlock?"

"I am in need of assistance, Molly. Are you available to help me this morning?"

"If you need something done you could drop by the hospital. I have a little bit of free space in between some of my jobs, so I could look at something for you if you can just drop it by."

"No, no, no. I need someone to watch Alex while I'm out on a case," he snapped.

"Oh. Well, I'm afraid I can't just skip work. Sorry. I really am. Is there anyone else you could ask?"

Sherlock grumbled into the phone and ended the call without another word. He glanced back at Alex who was still giggling.

"You're stuck with me then," Alex said before stuffing another piece of toast into his mouth. Sherlock sighed and looked away, brows furrowing as he considered any alternatives. Molly was right, there was no one else. He only had three friends after all…three left that was…

Sherlock stopped at that, unable to think about the ending of John and Mary anymore. No, he needed to focus. His attention returned to the still chewing boy.

"Then you're coming with me," Sherlock said.

"Cool," Alex brightened at the thought. He stuffed one last bite of toast into his mouth, muttered, "done," and then ran off towards the stairs to go put on his clothes.

Sherlock sighed and grabbed the plate the boy had left, tossing it into the sink before going to find his coat. He slid into the old familiar garment, turning the collar up. He called a cab and sank into his chair, awaiting his ward's return.

The sound of footsteps echoing down the stairs alerted him to the fact that Alex was already dressed. The boy appeared in the doorway with shoes and a coat on as well, thoroughly ready.

"Grab your knapsack too and bring a book. In case you get bored."

Alex nodded and reached for the things he'd had in the fort yesterday. He slid a few books into his bag before slinging it over his shoulder and smiling at Sherlock.

"Ready," he said.

They headed to the door, going down the stairs past Mrs. Hudson's place where they could hear her humming as she worked. Sherlock rolled his eyes as they headed out the front door onto Baker Street, finding the cab already awaiting them.

Alex bounced with anticipation for most of the ride, looking out the windows and chattering to Sherlock about how exciting it was. Sherlock did his best to keep his sarcastic responses to a minimum, mostly a little relieved to not have to go about business alone. He'd worried about John's absence, how that would affect him. While John hadn't been as active once involved in married life, his presence had still been a part of some of his major cases, and Sherlock had always valued that. Now at least he still had someone to bring along. Though the vibrating child next to him certainly wasn't quite the same.

Lestrade stared at him when they pulled up and exited the cab. Sherlock paid the cabbie before following Alex over to the crime scene tape.

"You'd better bloody well be joking," Lestrade said, staring perplexedly at Alex. "Why have you got a kid with you?"

"This is Alex," Sherlock said. "He's joining me today."

Lestrade's jaw dropped. "Bloody hell that's Alex Watson. Seriously, what's he doing here?"

"He's with me," Sherlock said. "I couldn't find a sitter. So he'll be tagging along."

"With you? Cor, what are you on about?" Lestrade demanded.

"I'm in the process of becoming his legal guardian," Sherlock said.

Sally Donovan looked up from where she'd been leaning over the body. "What? They're letting freaks like you around kids? That boy's going to be a piece of work, let me tell you."

"If I wanted your opinion I'd ask for it," Sherlock snapped. "And if you were a better detective you'd already have realized this is a drug overdose not a murder, but clearly you're too blind to see the signs."

Lestrade stared a moment longer and shook his head. "I don't even want to know. Now, about the kid, he can't come, Sherlock."

"Why not?" the consulting detective asked, tilting his head.

"Because, he's a kid! Christ, Sherlock, we're investigating the murder of his parents for crying out loud."

"He'll be fine," Sherlock said dismissively.

Alex was busy staring at the dead body, his mouth open and his eyes sparkling. "Woah. Is he really dead?"

"Yes," Sherlock sighed. "He doesn't mind these things, Lestrade. And it's not as though we're going to go find the bodies, are we?"

"I still think this is messed up," Lestrade muttered, even as he walked towards his car. "Finish up here Donovan and write up a report, would you? I'll be back in a few hours. Sherlock is tagging along for a check up on a lead for the Watson case."

Donovan rolled her eyes but apparently decided to just go along with Lestrade's orders. Sherlock grabbed Alex's arm and lead him towards the car.

"So, where to first?" Lestrade asked, once seated at the wheel. "You mentioned that place a few blocks down…"

"No, I'd start with closer proximity to where the bodies were found rather than where the Watsons were taken from," Sherlock said. "Start with the furthest away and we'll work our way back in if there are no leads there. I'd say we have a safe bet with it though. It has everything Moriarty would have needed."

"Hmm, alright, whatever you say," Lestrade said, starting the engine and setting off. He glanced in the mirror to look at Alex for a moment. "How are you doing, Alex? You holding up alright?"

"I'm fine," Alex said with a smile. "I mean…it's been sad…but I think it's going to be ok. Sherlock will find the bad people who did this."

"I gotta agree with that," Lestrade said. "Or at least hope. I mean this is Moriarty we're talking about. This guy's a real bastard. And he's gotten away far too many times already."

"We'll find him this time," Sherlock said.

"Well, whatever you say. You seriously adopting Alex though?"

"Yes," Sherlock said.

"Why? You don't strike me as the kid type. Seems a bit odd if you ask me."

"I—John wanted me to. There were no other good options anyhow. And Alex likes me rather well, and I don't mind him all that much. It's a suitable arrangement."

"Adopting a kid should be more than suitable," Lestrade muttered, glancing in the mirror again. "It's lots of work it is. Gotta love it."

"Hmm, if you say so," Sherlock said, looking out the window and considering every detail he could about this potential route. Perhaps he'd considered poorly. Perhaps Moriarty would be more likely to choose the location closest to the Watson residence.

"What about you, Alex? You liking living with Sherlock?"

"He's really nice," Alex piped in.

"Nice?" Lestrade chuckled.

"Yeah, he read me a story from my dad last night about this pink lady and this guy who killed people with medicines. It was really interesting. And he made me a fort too and he didn't get too mad at me when I flooded the bath. Plus he's really smart and stuff."

"Is that right?" Lestrade asked, shooting Sherlock a look of amusement. The consulting detective rolled his eyes.

"Yep," Alex said.

Lestrade launched into asking Alex some questions about school and such. The boy answered easily, the two falling into casual conversation without too many problems. Sherlock was relieved when the boathouse was in view.

"Thank heavens," Sherlock muttered under his breath as he unbuckled. As soon as the car had stopped moving he was stepping out, striding towards the building with little hesitation.

"Is the kid joining us?" Lestrade asked.

"Hey! You can't leave me," Alex protested. He dashed off after the detective, leaving Lestrade shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Together the two men and the boy made their way closer to the abandoned boathouse.

Sherlock was absorbing every detail he could. Tire tracks. Fairly fresh. Someone had been here. Large tread. He glanced towards the door and noticed the lock had been broken. There were signs of a struggle in the gravel, where people had obviously been forced inside. There was no doubt in his mind this was the place.

Lestrade pulled out his torch as they opened the door. Sherlock stepped inside, still trying to absorb as many details as he could about what had happened. There had been three other men besides Moriarty from his guess. He noted two types of cigarettes, scattered on different parts of the floor, but also a set of footprints nowhere near those that were far too large to be either Moriarty's or John's. There were ropes still tied to two wooden supports, obviously where the Watsons had been held.

Any other clues here? Not much if anything. Lestrade was calling in a forensic unit to come sweep the place, but Sherlock had a feeling that would do little good. Moriarty had left whatever he'd wanted to, he obviously wasn't worried about being caught due to a little bit of DNA lying about or fingerprints or anything else. Even so, he remained silent since Alex had become excited at the mention of forensics.

Sherlock wondered for the first time if a trip out here had been pointless. Perhaps he should have realized Moriarty wasn't a fool and that this trip would be a waste of time, instead only a reminder of the loss of his two friends. Perhaps—

His thoughts were cut off by a shout from Alex. Sherlock spun to find the boy staring at something along the far wall. Both he and Lestrade headed over.

"Those are mine," Alex whispered, pointing to the toys.

Sherlock stared at the scene in mild disgust, two small blond plastic figures were blackened with burning, only their heads left visible, though someone had drawn xs across their eyes. A third blond figure, a little boy was hanging over a fake candle. Someone had drawn his face as a frown. As Sherlock had suspected, Moriarty was intending to harm Alex as well. There was blood splattered all of them, and to the side Sherlock could see the body of a cat. He had to guess it was probably the neighbor's one of which Alex was so fond.

Sherlock reached instinctively for his ward, drawing Alex closer to him and running a hand through his hair. The boy had begun to cry softly, though he was obviously trying to hide it. Lestrade spat out a few choice curses.

"What's the point of this?" Lestrade demanded. "What the hell does this do other than show he's a sick bastard?"

Sherlock glanced for answers, until his eyes settled under the small candle and he realized it was sitting on something. He moved the item to the side to reveal a small mobile phone. It was identical to John's though it clearly wasn't his.

"He's taunting us," Sherlock said with a sigh, opening the phone to reveal a background photo of Alex's face. "He wants to show off…as always."

"Well, he's proved that much," Lestrade said. "Well, our forensic unit will sweep this place for what they can. In the meantime, what's next? We just wait for him to call?"

"Keep an eye on his associate movements, continue to watch for patterns, and yes, we will wait for him to make contact," Sherlock sighed. "Like all good showoffs, eventually he'll overdo himself. And we will catch him."

"Yeah he'd better," Lestrade muttered. "Speaking of which, do you hear something?"

Sherlock's head shot up and he looked around, Lestrade was right there was an unusual noise but he wasn't sure what it was. Sniffing the air Sherlock became more sure of what it had to be.

"Gas leak. Run."

Grabbing for Alex's arm, Sherlock darted off towards the entrance. Whatever Moriarty had rigged, he was all too certain this wasn't going to be good. With Lestrade right behind him, the consulting detective shot out the door, just in time to hear an echoing boom and feel the scorching heat of the fire going off behind them. Sherlock's hand on Alex's arm tightened as he threw himself forward, bringing the boy down with him to the ground as the building was set into blazing flame. Lestrade gasped and cursed, but Sherlock didn't dare look up to see.

After a long minute hearing the biggest damage taking place, Sherlock determined it safe to raise his head again. The fire was still burning, he could feel the heat against his back, but the danger of possible further explosions had likely passed.

Sherlock pulled Alex to his feet, inspecting the boy for any damage. Alex was quivering a bit, but otherwise seemed unharmed. After just a moment of standing there he leaned over and vomited up his toast. Sherlock grimaced but said nothing. Lestrade rose to his feet as well, cursing as he brushed at a charred portion of his shirt, though he didn't appear to be burned at all either.

"That evil sadistic bastard," Lestrade said. "Bloody hell when I get my hands on him…"

"Oh do calm down, we're all alive and well."

Lestrade looked at Alex who'd gone a shade paler. "Sherlock, you're never bringing him to a crime scene again, you hear me? Shite the kid could have been killed!"

"He's fine," Sherlock said, peering at the boy with his eyebrows furrowed. "Honestly, Lestrade, he doesn't have a scratch on him."

"Eh, well I still'm not going to be responsible if he dies or is injured or anything else for that matter. John'd probably come back from the grave and murder me himself," Lestrade said. "Alright, well, that takes care of forensics. Bloody hell this really is going to be a mess, isn't it?"

"It looks as though it will be," Sherlock agreed. He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the replica of John's phone. He had a text.

Hope you liked my pyrotechnic display. All for you love. Don't worry this is just the first act. 3 Jim

"That him?" Lestrade asked as he opened the car door.

"Yes," Sherlock said, closing the text and sticking the phone away.

"What's he saying now?"

"That this is only the beginning," Sherlock murmured, opening his own door and ushering the still shell-shocked Alex inside. He should have expected this.

A/N: I know nothing about explosions (probably evident) or police regulations (but Lestrade doesn't strike me as caring too much about those all the time anyways). So yes, don't get annoyed if I messed something up. It's fiction after all. Regardless, feel free to comment if you have suggestions. Until next time! -elsarenard