AN - Hello again dears. I thought it was about time I explored Isabel's post baby-hood, so here have some 4/5 year old Isabel cuteness :)
Isabel Hooper-Holmes was four years and three months old when she asked her father if she could learn to play the violin. Though the youngest of the Hooper-Holmes children had always shown an interest in music - even at six months old Isabel could often be seen babbling and clapping her small hands in time to any music within her earshot - Sherlock was reluctant to agree to his daughter's request.
"I'm not sure, petal. Music lessons are a big responsibility for such a little flower." Sherlock tapped the button nose that was so much like Molly's. The consulting detective remembered having a similar conversation with his daughter a few months earlier when she'd wanted to take ballet lessons. She'd lasted 3 weeks before growing bored of the idea.
"I know daddy." Isabel looked up at her father from her place in his lap, her big eyes - shaped like her mother's but with Sherlock's vivid colour - pleading with him.
The hint of a smile flitted across Sherlock's face. "How about we wait until the summer, then If you'd still like to Mummy and I will look into getting you some lessons. How does that sound?"
The little girl considered her father's offer for a moment, cupid's bow lips pressed into a thin line, a mirror image of Sherlock. "Okay daddy. Thank you." Isabel stretched up, clumsily throwing her little arms around her father's neck.
While Sherlock was still generally indifferent to human contact, that did not apply when it came to Molly or their children. He wrapped his arms around his little girl, hugging her tightly to his chest for a moment or two. "You're very welcome petal. Now, why don't you go and read one of your books until Mummy comes home?"
"Will you help me wiff the big words daddy?" Isabel lisped, having lost one of her front baby teeth the day before.
"Only the ones you absolutely can't manage yourself."
"Okay daddy." With a steadying hand from Sherlock, Isabel hopped down from her father's lap and ran noisily upstairs to her small bed room. It was more of a box room really but Molly and Sherlock were sure it would be another year or two before they'd need to think about finding a bigger flat, or even a house, Sherlock was not keen on either possibility but had resigned himself to the inevitable.
"We don't run upstairs Isabel..." Sherlock called. "Or down them."
The pattering of little feet slowed, Isabel returning to the living room.
"Sorry daddy, I forgoted."
"You forgot..." Sherlock emphasised the word.
"That's what I said daddy." Isabel rolled her eyes and wandered over to John's chair. Once she was settled with her book, Sherlock picked up his violin and stood by the window. The song he played was the one he'd composed on Isabel's first day of life. It was music filled with light and life.
On the pavement below Molly stopped on hearing the familiar notes. She glanced up towards the open window, blowing a kiss to her watching husband. Dominick rolled his eyes, making fake vomiting sounds before he disappeared upstairs, his mother following a few steps behind him.
It was the first week of the summer holidays and Isabel was pouting.
"I'm sorry darling, maybe Dominick well let you go with him next time?" Molly swayed slightly on the spot, trying to soothe the sniffling child in her arms.
Isabel hid her face in Molly's hair and sniffled loudly. "But I wanted to play football wiff him Mummy." The youngest Hooper-Holmes stuck her thumb in her mouth, a sure sign that she was feeling hard done by.
"I know, darling." Molly rubbed her daughters back. Under normal circumstances Molly wouldn't have babied Isabel so much but the utterly pathetic look on her little face when Dominick had raced downstairs to meet his friends had been more than Molly could stand.
Sherlock's heavy footsteps on the stairs drew Molly's attention away from her daughter for a moment. The pathologist grinned when she noted the small violin case in his hand. "Isabel, I think daddy has something for you."
Isabel lifted her head out from her mother's hair, curiosity outweighing misery. "What's that?" She asked, little hand pointing to the violin case.
"Why don't we open it and find out?" Sherlock asked as Molly handed Isabel off to him. He settled in his chair with Isabel in his lap and popped open the two catches on the case. Molly curled up in John's chair, watching father and daughter open the violin case together.
"It looks like your violin daddy!" Isabel giggled, bad mood now completely forgotten.
Sherlock smiled down at his daughter. "It is mine. This is the violin I learned to play when I was your age. I thought you might like to borrow it for your lessons." Sherlock lifted the little violin and it's bow out of the case while Isabel hopped down from his lap. By the time her violin tutor arrived for Isabel's first lesson that afternoon the child had already mastered how to hold both violin and bow correctly.
By the fourth week of her twice weekly violin lessons, Isabel had already progressed far quicker than even her parents had imagined. Molly spent many a breakfast time watching father and daughter playing together, Sherlock adding the occasional complicated flourish that Isabel tried to copy. Unlike the ballet lessons, Isabel's interest level seemed to only increase with each passing lesson. Even the frightening prospect of her first day at school had not been enough to dampen the little girls spirits when she had her bow in her hands. That was until the dreaded day actually came.
"Daddy?" Isabel asked as Molly brushed her hair into two little bunches on either side of her head. "Can't I take my violin with me?"
"Maybe next week, petal, when you've had time to settle in." Sherlock answered, watching the eyeballs currently revolving in the microwave.
For the third time that morning, big fat tears began to roll down the little girl's cheeks. "I..don't..want..to..go..daddy" She chocked out between exaggerated sobs. Isabel was not overjoyed at the prospect of going to school.
Sherlock glanced at Molly for help but his wife could only smile sadly and kiss the top of her daughter's head. Sherlock's own school years had not been a pleasant experience for him and both parents were determined to make sure their children did not suffer the same fate. Dominick had taken to school like a duck to water.
Sherlock knelt down in front of Isabel. "We all have to do things we don't want to do, Isabel." The detective's tone was firm but kind. "But you haven't even been to school yet. You might even like it. Now, no more crying." He brushed the tears from his daughter's cheeks. Isabel still looked unsure.
"Isabel, If daddy promises to get you a violin of your own for your birthday can you be a big brave girl and go to school?" Molly asked, a bright smile on her face.
Isabel considered this for a moment before nodding. "Okay mummy. Can I have a pink one?"
"I think that can be arranged, darling. What do you think Sherlock?" Molly had to suppress a giggle when she caught Sherlock's shudder of disgust. Much to the detective's dismay, Isabel had decided at the age of two that pink was her favourite colour and demanded that her room be painted as such.
"If that's what my petal wants." Sherlock arranged his features into an approximation of a smile.
Isabel had eventually come to tolerate school, if not enjoy it. She had not forgotten her parents promise of a new violin and was bursting with excitement by the time her fifth birthday arrived. 221b was covered with streamers and balloons in every shade of pink imaginable. Dominick was attempting to arrange the balloons in as many creatively rude ways as he could manage, that was until a stern "No, Dominick" was heard from Molly's direction.
Isabel was showing Lucy Watson the pink microscope set from her Uncle Mycroft. Mrs Hudson and Mary were arranging party food on the kitchen table.
Sherlock and John were nowhere to be seen, the pair having dashed off in a cab an hour earlier. To anyone on the street, the detective and his blogger might have looked like they were on a case. They were in fact on their way to the other side of London, to a small music shop - the owner of which owed Sherlock a favour.
"This was the one you wanted?" The beady eyed owner of the shop asked Sherlock, opening the violin case on the counter in front of him.
"That's the one." Sherlock nodded, picking up the child's violin for a closer inspection.
"It's very pink..." John stated the obvious.
"Says the man with the lilac laptop." Sherlock smirked.
"Ah, that's not mine, it's Lucy's."
Sherlock placed the violin back in it's case, snapping it shut. "I think this will be more than adequate."
"Wish the little lady a happy birthday for me, Mr Holmes." The beady eyed man called cheerily as Sherlock and John strode out of the shop, violin in hand.
"Where's daddy?" Isabel asked for the second time since Sherlock had left. She was sitting in her mother's lap, playing with the necklace Molly wore.
"Daddy and Uncle John had something to do, darling. I'm sure they wont be too long. Why don't you go and try on some of the new clothes Auntie Mary brought you?" Molly responded, pressing a kiss to her daughter's temple. "Lucy might even help you, if you ask her nicely."
Molly watched as Isabel hopped down from her lap, running over to the older girl and taking her hand, all but pulling her upstairs.
When Sherlock and John got back to the flat, Isabel practically bounced back downstairs dressed in her Tigger outfit with the pink tiara and wand from her fairy outfit.
"Daddy daddy daddy!" The newly five year old threw herself at her father who scooped her up in his arms, balancing her on his hip.
"Hello, petal. Would you like your present now or after dinner?"
"Now please daddy." Isabel answered with a giggle.
"As you wish, my lady." Sherlock grinned and deposited Isabel on his chair. He laid the violin case across legs and helped her undo the catches and open the case. The little girl's eyes lit up when they fell on her pink violin.
"It's so pretty! Thank you daddy!" Isabel carefully lifted her violin up.
"Happy birthday, Isabel." There was a beaming smile on the detective's face, a smile that was reserved only for his children.
"I'd like to hear what our little virtuoso can do with her new violin." Molly grinned, leaning in to Sherlock's side.
"Yeah, squirt, play something." Dominick encouraged.
Isabel thought for a moment, sliding off of Sherlock's chair and planting her little feet on the floor.
"Okay." Just like her father, Isabel didn't need much encouragement to show off her skills.
The birthday girl launched into a perfect rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, a favourite of hers to play. Her extended family gathered around her, all applauding dutifully when she stopped playing and took a bow.