I'm so sorry everyone. I don't know what went wrong with the first time I posted this. Hopefully this time it will work. Thank you to everyone who let me know there was a problem. Here is the fixed chapter. Enjoy!
The weeks turned into months since John had moved back into Baker Street, and despite his early apprehension, Sherlock was finding it rather easy to adjust. And regardless of his initial dislike of Cassandra, he grew rather fond of the young girl.
Her bright eyes and generally pleasant demeanour seemed to outweigh her naturally revolting habits. John had even gotten Sherlock to hold Cassandra and feed her a few times, taking care of her so he could have a precious few minutes of respite.
Like now, where Sherlock was entertaining the small girl while John took a much needed shower, stretching it as long as he dare to relax his muscles. Sherlock sat on the living room floor, waving toys in front of Cassandra, who sat on the floor, burbling happily. Sherlock spoke to her, but talked as he did to adults.
"She's perfectly capable of understanding complex speech John," he'd said one day, remarking on John's use of 'baby talk'. "You're only discouraging her development by talking to her in such dumbed down speech."
"She's my daughter and I'll talk to her however I want," John argued. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"If you've got your heart set on her being ridiculously ordinary, fine," the detective huffed, but no more was said about it.
Currently, while Sherlock played with her, he was explaining the chemical compounds of some of the things around them.
"So that's two hydrogen atoms combined with one oxygen atom to make water," he said, pointing to a glass of water he had. Cassandra squealed and clapped her hand. Sherlock smiled.
"I knew you'd get it. It's rather simple, isn't it?" He said, picking her up and setting her in his lap. Cassie made a babbling noise and Sherlock smiled.
Suddenly, Sherlock's ears picked up the sound of footsteps on the stairs and he stood, Cassie in his arms, instinctively protective. The door swung open and there stood Mycroft Holmes, with a rather pleasingly baffled expression on his face.
"Hello brother mine," he greeted, a tad more hesitantly than normal.
"Mycroft," Sherlock replied simply, while Cassie babbled happily in his arms, looking up at their guest. Mycroft frowned.
"Have I interrupted something? Stepped into an alternate universe, perhaps?" Sherlock couldn't help but grin.
"Of course not. As you know, John has moved back into Baker Street, along with his daughter, Cassandra. Do say hello, Mycroft. It's rude to ignore her so. Mummy would be displeased." Mycroft frowned heavily, looking down at Cassandra, who smiled back up at the grumpy man.
"Hello," he said reluctantly. Cassandra burbled happily. Sherlock stood, holding the baby in his arms as he moved to set her in her play pen before sitting his chair.
"So Mycroft, what are you doing here?" Sherlock asked, clasping his hands in front of him. Mycroft looked at Sherlock in distaste, taking a seat as well.
"Am I not allowed to simply drop in and say hello?" Sherlock hummed.
"Mmm, no. I know you better than that," he replied. Mycroft let out a displeased sigh.
"There is, of course, more to my visit," he said, irked at Sherlock's ease of seeing through him. The younger Holmes cocked a curious eyebrow at his brother as he sat back in his chair, inviting his brother silently to continue. Mycroft sat down stiffly in John's chair before continuing.
"There is a matter of...utmost importance. I request your...help," the elder Holmes said cautiously.
"Really Mycroft, there's no need to beat around the bush." Mycroft rolled his eyes at his brother's impatience.
"This matter includes international security, I am not simply allowed to discuss the matter openly," he snapped. Sherlock cocked his head.
"And who do you imagine overhearing us? John? He will be a part of the investigation, to be sure. Mrs. Hudson? I hardly believe you're worried she'd hear anything, much less repeat it. Or is it little Cassie you're afraid will hear?" He asked, a pleased smirk at his brother's obvious annoyance.
Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment before dignifying his brother with a response.
"Alright, fine. I shall simply have you escorted to my office then, shall I?" The elder Holmes said with an insincere and menacing smile. Sherlock smirked gleefully.
"That's so boring, brother mine. Why don't you simply tell me what you so desperately need me to do for you?" The younger Holmes practically sneered the words. Mycroft was clearly getting frustrated.
"Don't make me force you Sherlock," he warned sternly.
"As if you could," his brother retorted, unfazed by the threat. John appeared at this moment, rubbing his hair dry as he made his way into the living room.
"Hello Mycroft," he said, picking up his daughter from her play pen and cradling her in his arms. "What brings you here?"
The elder Holmes gave him an exasperated look.
"My brother is being a pain, as usual," he replied. "I have a case, but he simply won't listen to me."
John hummed curiously. "Sherlock?" He asked. He had long ago learned that there were always two sides to the Holmes story, and usually neither were the full truth. Sherlock huffed.
"My brother is, as usual, forcing his way into our home only to tell me he needs me somewhere else. I simply refuse to leave until he tells me the details," he replied. John nodded, processing the information.
"Right. Well. Mycroft, why don't you give us a few details about the case and then Sherlock can make an informed decision to follow you back to your office for more. Deal?" He suggested. Though both brothers seemed unhappy at not getting their way, the compromise was eventually accepted.
Mycroft eventually cleared his throat and told them the basic information of the case. Sherlock eventually agreed that he would take it, and arranged to meet Mycroft in his office in an hour. John watch as Mycroft left, smiling at Sherlock when he heard the front door shut.
"Promising," John said, bouncing his little girl happily. Sherlock frowned.
"What?"
"This case. Sounds promising," John said. Sherlock hummed noncommittally, steeping his fingers under his chin for a long moment, eyes falling closer in thought.
Cassandra burbled happily in her fathers lap, and Sherlock's expression softened, ever so slightly, at the sound. John grinned to himself, pleased that his little girl had such an pull over the detective.
"John, you're being ridiculous," Sherlock said, his words clearly reflecting his frustration.
"I'm making sure she's going to be well looked after, Sherlock. If you screw up, she could get hurt, and I will kill you," the blogger replied vehemently. Sherlock's frown deepened.
"I am more than qualified to care for her, you know. And yet you don't trust me to care for her?"
"No Sherlock, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that you could put her in harms way, or completely forget about her if you wander off into your mind palace. This is simply a list of things you have to do, and things you must not do under any circumstance, alright?" John said exasperatedly.
He knew this conference was a bad idea, but he had been forced to attend. Which meant leaving Cassie with someone. John's original plan was to let Mrs. Hudson look after the little girl.
But Sherlock had been adamant that he was to watch her. John had reluctantly agreed, but he was still worried. Could Sherlock really be trusted to care for the baby girl? Sherlock let out a groan.
"I would never endanger her, John, nor ignore her. She is my priority during your time away," he said confidently. John gave Sherlock a sceptically look, but sighed, resigning.
"Alright. Just...take good care of her, yeah? And if you need help, call Mrs. Hudson or me."
"Of course John." The father approached his little girl who was laying happily in her play pen.
"Be a good girl for Uncle Lock, okay?" He said, kissing her little head as Cassie smiled, burbling and kicking happily. John gave her a fond smile before standing up and sighing.
"Right, I should go," he said, grabbing his overnight bag. He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it, heading out. Sherlock walked over and picked up Cassie.
"You're father's being silly. I'm perfectly able to care for you. And you know it too, don't you?" He asked. She burbled, wiggling happily in his arms. He smiled.
"I thought so," he said, settling down on the sofa with her, turning on a documentary. Cassie wiggled and moved, eventually settling on chewing on the armrest contentedly. Sherlock frowned, picking up a nearby toy.
"Try this. I don't think your father would like you eating the sofa," he said, giving her the toy. Her eyes widened and she eagerly took the toy, chewing happily on it.
Sherlock settled again with a small smile on his face as he enjoyed the documentary, explaining every once in a while how the narrator was wrong, or elaborating on something to Cassandra.
It wasn't until she started crying that Sherlock realized it had been a while since she had been changed and fed. He set about doing this, heating up her bottle as he changed her, smiling and making faces at her as he did so.
He settled with her on the sofa again, her cradled in his arm as he fed her. She eagerly ate, and Sherlock even burped her. He smiled at her as she settled against him, clearly ready for a nap.
He waited until she was sound asleep before taking a photo of them both, Cassandra sound asleep on his shoulder. He set her in her cot, covering her in a blanket before texting the photo to John with the caption "To prove you wrong. -SH".
John smiled down at his phone, loving the picture and feeling all the more relaxed as he rode the train to the convention. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea after all.
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