Rosie sat and listened to John tell her about the cases that he and Sherlock and solved. Rosie found it amazing that her father was this amazing genius that her mother never allowed her to see. John explained that her father's work was dangerous that that was probably why she wasn't allowed to see Sherlock. Sherlock kept watch on Rosie they whole time throughout the conversation, her mother was dead and now he was responsible for her, he didn't know the first thing about being a parent. How on earth was he going to protect her. Sherlock was confused, Rosie could look after herself and buy clothes for herself for months but he remembered the last time he saw her she had no money, what had changed so much in 10 years? Something drew him to her, he had missed her. He was going to get to know her some more it was he wanted to use her. John told Rosie that he didn't have many friends, there was himself, Molly Hooper, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade. Sherlock frowned and began to deduce Rosie some more because he couldn't still fully work her out.
Clothes and bag all in very good condition suggesting that they are brand new. The money can only have come from her mother because if it had come from other friends and family because if they would have taken her in if they were willing to give her money they would just let her live on the streets. But where had she came into money she was barely able to fund her own drug habit. Her anxiety issues would explain why she isn't in an adoption agency or care because she didn't want to be found. She was depressed and suffering from depression because she looks lonely, empty and sad. No emotion on her face or in her eyes for that matter. Her weight was down to a mix of the depression and anxiety was affect her appetite thus explaining why she wasn't eating.
"Sherlock...Sherlock…where you listening to me?" John asked.
"Sorry what?" Sherlock said snapping back into reality.
"Is Rosie ok to stay here?" John asked again.
"Yes, of course she is." John seemed surprised. He thought that Sherlock would have given he the address of some home or something to do with Mycroft as he would want to spend his day messing about with children. He put it down to the fact that it was daughter and that he couldn't turn her away.
"I'll show you to your room." John stood up and led Rosie out.
Sherlock sat in his chair with fingers steepled thinking, trying to piece everything together. But none of it made sense to him. He couldn't work it out, not yet anyway. Sherlock stood up and went to his daughter's room and pushed the door open.
"The last time I saw you. You were running about playing in the park without a care in the world you didn't know who I was at the point. Don't think I haven't been keeping tabs on you though watching you grow up. I don't usually do caring, John will tell you that. But I do care about you and I'm sorry that I wasn't there. I truly mean that." Sherlock said with sincerity.
"It's not your fault mum would have gone mental if you came anywhere near me. She said you were some kind of psychopath."
"Highly-functioning sociopath." Sherlock grinned.
"She also told me you were a detective." Rosie told him.
"A consulting detective. The police consult me and John when they are out of their depth. Which is all of the time."
"Hoo hoo" Mrs Hudson sung. "I've brought you some tea. It's to have another girl around, help with keeping him in line and not shooting my walls and…"
"Mrs Hudson, if you don't mind." Sherlock shot at her.
Mrs Hudson turned and went to leave the room but before she went "Mycroft's here as well."
Sherlock rolled his eyes and let out a sigh.
"Whose Mycroft?" Rosie asked.
"My brother." Sherlock stood up and left the room. He walked into the living where he found Mycroft sat in John's car. Sherlock went and sat in his chair and Rosie sat down on the sofa next to John. Mycroft had his usual black umbrella. "What do you want Mycroft?"
"Dear brother, I just wanted to introduce myself to my niece and welcome her to your expanding family here at 221B." Mycroft said rising and walking over to shake Rosie's hand. "Pleasure."
"Rosie, Mycroft. My brother who is practically the British Government. Family, Rosie is my only other member here currently. John is a…friend"
"How did you know Rosie was here anyway?" John asked.
Both Mycroft and Sherlock answered at the same time. "Cameras, John."
John sat in silence on the sofa, with an expression that suggests that he knew that would have been the answer.
"Well, it was nice seeing you again brother dear. But I do have a country to run," With that Mycroft and picked up his umbrella and walked over to the door. "John. Rosie." Mycroft turned on his heel and walked out.
Sherlock sat in his chair with his fingers steepled. He picked up his phone and started scrolling through. He then a text message flicked up.
You're going to bring her into this you've only just got her back.
No caller I.D. An unknown, blocked number which made it virtually untraceable. Sherlock ignored the text and deleted it. His phone then started to ring. It was Lestrade.
"Where was, it found?" Sherlock already knew why Lestrade was asking.
"Another suicide in a flat." Lestrade said.
"It wasn't suicide." Sherlock said getting annoyed. Rosie smiled at her father's expense.
"Still come and have a look, Sherlock."
"Only if I can bring Rosie." Sherlock asked.
"Who?" Greg wondered.
"Rosie. My daughter."
"Ha. You a dad. I don't believe that." Lestrade laughed.
"Yes. That isn't important. Can I bring her or not?"
"Sherlock. I don't know…"
"You let me bring John. So, you'll let me bring Rosie." Sherlock pleaded.
"Fine ok." Lestrade gave in. "Only because we need you."
"The police always need me." Sherlock hung up the phone and stood up and put on his scarf and coat. John also put on his jacket. "Coming?"
"God yes." Rosie threw herself and put on her leather jacket and ran down the stairs after Sherlock.
All three of them stood in the road and Sherlock hailed a taxi which in turn they all got in.