Right, so here's the next chapter. Hope you like it!

Eight months later, Mycroft had to admit that he was enjoying being a father. There was nothing in the world he would trade for Rayleigh, she had changed his life. Gone was the emotionless, ice cold man Mycroft used to be. Now, Mycroft had noticed that he smiled and laughed significantly more – only at home with Rayleigh of course.

After, eventually deciding against telling people about her, and a nanny, for security reasons, Mycroft had invariably been left with the task of raising his daughter. Of course, he had help from Anthea and Arthur, his driver, the only people who knew of her existence – apart from him of course.

Today, sitting in his study at home at seven in the evening, Mycroft knew he was supposed to be reviewing a file regarding military operations in the Middle East, but instead, here he was smiling as he thought of the particularly refreshing time he had spent with the light of his life in the morning.

Rayleigh had been rather hyperactive today morning, and so Mycroft had spent the entire hour, running around, chasing his daughter who was wobbling all over the house. Rayleigh had just learnt how to walk and was using every opportunity she got to walk around. Her unrestrained excited laughter as she had gone under the kitchen table had dispelled all of Mycroft's irritation and had made him laugh as well.

After finally locating and capturing his daughter, Mycroft had made her sit at the table as he prepared her bottle of milk, and as she had sucked on it contentedly, Mycroft entertained her by telling her interesting adventures that her 'papa' and 'uncle Sherlock' had gotten into as kids. Mycroft didn't really know how much Rayleigh understood, but she certainly seemed to enjoy hearing his voice, a fact that made Mycroft preen.

The rest of the morning was spent on the living room carpet, with Mycroft lying down on his back and Rayleigh lying peacefully on his chest as she had fallen asleep watching the flames in the fireplace and listening to Mycroft's soothing baritone.

Thinking about Sherlock, made Mycroft frown and put the file down. Mycroft knew Sherlock had a right to meet his niece but he didn't know how safe it was for Rayleigh if Sherlock knew about her.

Mycroft felt a soft tug on his trouser's leg. Looking down, his frown was replaced with a smile as he saw Rayleigh.

"Look who it is!" he cooed as he picked her up, "my darling little girl! Are you up from your nap now? How did you get in here sweetheart?" Mycroft asked her as he noted his open door, but remembered that he had put Rayleigh in her crib.

As she gurgled her answer Mycroft walked to her room, carrying her in his arms. Reaching the brightly coloured room, Mycroft saw that the crib's door was now open.

"Did you do that?" Mycroft asked his daughter, puzzled.

Her bright smile and the way she hid her face into his shirt, muffling her peals of laughter, were answer enough and Mycroft smiled brightly.

"Oh my clever, clever girl! So you managed to open the lock did you? Oh you are so intelligent aren't you? Papa's clever little girl!" Mycroft praised, as he walked back into his study and sat down.

Situating her on his lap comfortably, Mycroft wrapped a protective arm around her to ensure that she wouldn't fall down and focussed his attention on his files.

Rayleigh kept blabbering on his lap and while he nodded and gave the appropriate answer, he concentrated mainly on the file in front of him.

A few minutes later he felt Rayleigh tug on his tie.

"Not now darling, papa has to work." Mycroft said absentmindedly.

A couple of minutes later, she stopped and instead shuffled around on his lap so that she was now facing him.

"Papa"

Mycroft froze at the soft, melodic sound. The file slipped out of his fingers as he looked at Rayleigh in surprise.

"Papa! Papa! Papa!" she said happily, clapping her hands together her dark curls bouncing around her face as her blue eyes stared into his, filled with joy, love and pride.

Mycroft felt his face split into a wide grin.

"Oh aren't you a genius?! Your first word! Congratulations my love! Oh my clever, clever girl! I love you so much! I adore you! And look what you said, princess! You my darling, sweet, beautiful, wonderful, magnificent, clever, intelligent, ingenious girl said 'papa'!" Mycroft exclaimed overjoyed, spinning his daughter around his study.

For the rest of the evening his study was filled with sounds of both their laughter and Rayleigh's repeated cries of 'papa!'

The file remained forgotten.