AN - Hello there dears! I hope you're all well. Bit of a long AN tonight so bear with me. This is an expansion of a head canon I posted on my tumblr last week :) Everyone who reads, follows or reviews this, your support is as always very much appreciated. Extra special thank you's to SammyKatz (it took me so long to decide on Sherlock calling her Petal lol it's the most Sherlock-y pet name I could see him using for her :D ) Gypsy Rose2014 (Not going to lie, I had a not so little fangirl moment when I saw your name on the review. I'm an avid reader of Small Boys and Sandwiches, and Ginger Lollipops. I'm too shy to review but they're wonderful - it was reading those that sowed the seeds for what Family Ties has become.) And the dear Guest reviewer (Anyone who dares to ask teenage Isabel out is asking for trouble lol. I'm hoping to get some teenage Isabel out here at some point soon :D )
"Dad, I'm booooooored" Isabel whined, sitting down on John's chair with a huff.
When the family had moved into the house that had once been his parent's two years before, Sherlock had insisted that both his and John's chairs be moved from Baker Street with them.
Sherlock looked up from the stack of papers in his hand. "You had the chance to go to the morgue with your mother, petal."
"I don't like the morgue, it's full of dead people." The eight year old stuck her bottom lip out, imitating her father's own pouting face perfectly.
"Why don't you go riding then?" Sherlock suggested, his attention back on the papers he held.
"I can't. You know mum doesn't like me riding Sunshine on my own. Maybe you could take Thunder out too." Isabel shot her father a hopeful look.
Molly had declared that as they were living more or less in the countryside now it would be nice for the children to have horses. The family had since acquired four; Thunder and Lightening - named by Molly - Lucifer who was Dominick's and Isabel's pony, Sunshine.
Isabel's look of hope turned to disappointment when it became clear her father was in work mode. With an overly dramatic sigh the little girl kicked her heels against the bottom of the chair, earning a raised brow from her father.
"Isabel, surely you have homework of some sort to do?" There was a hint of exasperation in the detective's voice as he attempted to stay focused on the case he was working on.
Isabel shrugged her petite shoulders. "I've already done it. It wasn't very interesting."
Sherlock had to bite back a smile; for all that she was like Molly, sometime's it was utterly undeniable that Isabel took after him.
At the very moment when the worlds only consulting detective was ready to admit defeat and entertain his daughter rather than continue working, there was an obnoxiously loud knock at the front door. Isabel was on her feet immediately.
"I'll get it!" The eight year old yelled as she skipped out of the living room. Sherlock rolled his eyes, tossing the pile of papers to the floor and following after his child.
Sherlock made it to the door before Isabel; pulling the door open with one hand and snaking his other arm around his daughter's waist, hoisting her up into the air.
"Dad!" Isabel giggled, her feet dangling in the air. Sherlock's laughter matched that of his little girl. The source of the knocking stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed at detective and daughter.
"Mr. Holmes, your presence is required." The man stated simply.
Sherlock deposited Isabel back on the ground but kept one hand on her small shoulder. Clever eyes quickly looked over the man in front of him; Well dressed, dog hair on highly polished shoes, air of superiority that reminded Sherlock of Mycroft.
"No, terribly busy. Sorry." Sherlock moved to close the door in the man's face, steering a curious Isabel out of the way.
"Mr. Holmes." The man repeated with a note finality. Clearly it was not a request, but an order.
Sherlock considered refusing, but the inevitable furious phone call he would no doubt recieve from his brother was a wholly unattractive prospect. "Isabel, find your shoes and coat please, we're going out."
"Where are we going?" The youngest Hooper-Holmes asked, retrieving her favourite shoes from their place in the hallway.
"Buckingham Palace." Sherlock responded, helping Isabel into her coat and making sure it was buttoned correctly before shrugging into his own familiar Belstaff.
The 30 minute drive to the Palace passed quickly and relatively quietly. Isabel spent most of the drive firing questions at their escort.
"What does the Queen have for breakfast? Does she like toast? I don't like toast."
The subject of the eight year old's interrogation sighed, his patience wearing so thin it might snap. "I have no idea what Her Majesty has for breakfast, Miss Holmes; nor do I know whether or not Her Majesty likes toast."
"It's Miss Hooper-Holmes actually." Isabel replied haughtily, making Sherlock beam with pride. "And you're no use at all, are you?" The little girl turned her attention to looking out of the car window.
Sherlock and Isabel walked hand and hand down a corridor. Isabel's wide eyes took in everything around her, from the ornate panelling on the walls to the furniture that looked to the little girl like it should be in a museum. Sherlock was not surprised in the least to round a corner and find his brother waiting for him.
"Uncle Mykey!" Isabel dropped her father's hand and ran to her uncle.
Mycroft looked as uncomfortable as ever while Isabel hugged his legs. "Hello Isabel." The British Government patted his niece's head awkwardly.
"What is it this time, Mycroft? Got another dominatrix you need dealing with?"
The sneer on the elder Holmes brother's face at the mention of the Irene Adler escapade was almost enough to make Sherlock laugh.
Isabel detached herself from her uncle's legs and moved to stand next to her father again, peering around the room.
"Not this time, brother mine. I believe the last one got you in enough trouble, did she not?" Mycroft asked with a smirk, the smile dropping from Sherlock's face.
Isabel looked questioningly from her father to her uncle, hoping one of them would explain what they were talking about. When it became clear that neither of them had any intention of doing so, Isabel sighed and scuffed her feet over the floor.
"Well, what is it then? I have work to do." Sherlock was becoming more impatient by the second.
Mycroft rolled his eyes, his idea of constituted work being very different from that of his brother. "Someone of the highest importance would like to thank you for your handle of that case last month." He couldn't quite hide the note of disgust in his voice that Sherlock should be getting thanked for something he did only to hold off boredom.
"Wait, which case?" Sherlock looked confused for a moment before realisation dawned on him. "Oh...that case."
"What case dad? did Uncle John put it on the blog?" Isabel asked. She'd been an avid reader of John's blog since Molly had deemed that she was old enough to read it.
"I believe your Uncle John called it the Case of The Pampered Poodle." Sherlock answered his daughter with a roll of his eyes.
Isabel giggled. "There's a picture of you with the dog on Uncle John's blog dad."
"Getting back to the matter at hand, if you don't mind." Mycroft announced pompously. "You are to be on your best behaviour. Both of you."
Detective and daughter exchanged conspiratorial grins. There was a flurry of activity, another well dressed gentleman approaching Mycroft and muttering something to him.
Mycroft shot his brother and niece a stern look. "Best. Behaviour." He hissed.
Sherlock moved Isabel to stand in front of him, both hands on her shoulders to keep her in place; Isabel had inherited her father's nervous energy, often making it impossible to get her to stand still for more than a minute.
Another rush of activity and the Queen stood before them, a corgi at her feet. Sherlock for once heeded his brother's request, he was polite and managed to refrain from showing off for all of 3 minutes. Isabel on the other hand, was not inclined to follow her uncle's orders.
"Do you like toast? I don't like your hat very much. What's your dog called?" Isabel asked with the sort of directness that only a child, or a consulting detective can get away with.
The atmosphere in the room changed in a very pronounced way as every adult within earshot held their breath. Mycroft's eyes flickered first to Isabel and then to her father.
The Queen was the only one who seemed unperturbed by the girl's questions, smiling down at her in a very grandmotherly way. "I do enjoy toast, very much; The dog's name is Monty..." Her Majesty leaned every so slightly closer to Isabel and, in a loud whisper continued "...and I'm not particularly fond of this hat either."
The adults around Isabel visibly relaxed, with the exception of Mycroft. Further pleasantries were exchanged before the Royal party moved on to their other business and the Holmes were escorted to their waiting cars.
"I had been under the impression that you took more after your mother than your father, Isabel; clearly I was mistaken." Mycroft addressed his niece before sliding into the back seat of his car, the ever present Anthea waiting for him.
Two weeks after the visit to the Palace and Isabel had barely stopped talking about it. Sherlock was out running around London after a particularly clever back robber with John while Molly was spending a quiet Saturday at home with the children. Isabel was following Dominick around the house, describing in minute detail - and for what must be the 50th time - the interior of Buckingham Palace.
"I know Bel! You've already told me how red the carpet was!" Dominick finally snapped at his little sister. "Mum, Bel's going on again!"
"Isabel, come on darling and leave your brother be for a bit. You haven't told me how red the carpet was yet." Molly was well versed in the art of playing peacemaker between her children. Isabel stopped into the living room, throwing herself onto her father's chair with a loud huff.
"Dominick's so mean to me mum."
Molly settled herself on the arm of Sherlock's chair, brushing Isabel's hair away from her face. "Never mind darling. We can take Sunshine and Lightening out in a little while, if you want?"
Isabel shrugged in response, reminding Molly very much of Sherlock when he was in a sulk.
There was a sharp tapping at the front door, followed by the sound of the door opening.
"Anyone at home?" Mycroft called out.
"Anyone, is in the living room, Mycroft." Molly responded with a giggle. Molly had discovered early in her marriage to Sherlock that she was actually rather fond of her brother in law. She supposed she probably wouldn't be if she'd had to grow up with him of course.
Mycroft round the corner into the living room, a large box balanced precariously in his arms.
"Ah, Isabel's here too; good." He placed the box down on the floor at Isabel's feet. It was covered with air holes and was emitting a very un-box like noise.
"What's that?" The little girl asked, curiosity winning out over her sullen mood. She looked at her mother for answers but Molly could only shrug and look to Mycroft.
"I believe this note will explain." Mycroft handed his niece a piece of very expensive looking paper.
Isabel unfolded the note and squinted at it. While she was an avid reader, Isabel still had a little trouble reading handwriting. "Mum, I need help."
Molly looked over her daughter's shoulder and read the note aloud.
"Miss Isabel Hooper-Holmes,
I trust that you'll find my choice of pups more to your liking than my hats.
Elizabeth."
Molly was beaming by the time she'd read out the entirety of the note. "I think you'd better open that box, darling."
Molly and Mycroft watched as Isabel hopped down from her father's chair and knelt on the floor next to the box. Lifting one corner of the lid Isabel giggled when a little wet nose peeked out. Removing the lid entirely Isabel was greeted with a corgi puppy, almost identical to Monty.
Molly grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of Isabel lifting the puppy out of the box. She sent the picture to Sherlock, along with a text.
We have a new addition to our family. Molsxx
What is that? SH
A puppy. A royal puppy. Molsxx
Have solved the case. Will pick up puppy food on way home. SH
Mycroft made his excuses and hurried off for the Diogenes club. Molly called Dominick down to see the puppy while Isabel was already falling head over heels in love with the little thing.
"Is it a boy or a girl mum?" Dominick asked
Molly scooped the puppy up into her arms and turned the little thing over. "She's a girl." She placed the puppy back on the floor and watched Isabel immediately pick her up for a cuddle. "What are you going to name her, darling?"
Isabel gave it some serious thought for a moment. "I know! Lets call her Ginny." Isabel had been reading the Harry Potter series and had developed an affinity for Ginny Weasley.
Molly giggled and tickled the puppy behind the ears. "Welcome to the family, Ginny."