CHAPTER NINE
Author's Note: three year old Elise talks normal because I don't like writing babytalk. I have a three year old brother, but I don't like writing it. –n– Also, I gave Mrs. Holmes the name Violet, as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was particularly fond of the name.
Sherlock poured over the details of Andy's death as he sat in his chair, oblivious to the world around him.
Elise was reading a book, a favorite of John's, who had suggested it to her after she admitted to being bored (but only after John commented she must have found considerable fun in staring at ceilings).
John nudged Elise with his shoulder. She looked up, placing her fiddlehead fern bookmark in the page. "What?"
"Just curious, but did Sherlock ever babysit you or Andy when you were young?"
Elise rolled her eyes and laughed a bit. "As if Dad would ever let him near us." She thought for a second before adding. "Actually… he watched us once."
John chuckled. "I need to blackmail him somehow. Go on, Elise."
((FLASHBACK))
It was one of the rare occasions when the Holmes got together, and the entire family now gathered at Mycroft's house. Elise was three, Andrew ten.
Elise wandered through the hallway, a firm grip on her brother's hand. "Where are we going?" she asked. She was a bit tired, as Andy had woke her up.
"Grandma and Grandpa are here!" Andy said excitedly. "And Uncle Sherlock came with them!"
Elise's brow wrinkled as she tried to remember that name. "Who's he?" she asked.
Andy shrugged. "Oh, you haven't met him yet. He's dad's brother."
Elise's eyes widened. "Daddy has a brother?"
Andy laughed. "Yeah! I was surprised too!"
Elise and Andy arrived in the living room, where a disgruntled looking Sherlock was sitting still.
Elise ran to her Grandmother and Grandfather, giving each of them a hug.
"Elise, darling, this is your Uncle Sherlock." Violet Holmes introduced the man.
Elise looked at this stranger who was supposed to be her uncle. He gave Elise a cold stare, which would have frightened any other child, but instead she gave him a hug, right around his legs.
Sherlock started to look frightened, something he did not do often. But children did frighten him, they were strange creatures, learning and changing and unaware. Uncertain, he petted Elise gently on the head, and she let go.
Andy grabbed Elise's arm, pulling her away from the group. "Elise, you can't hug him!" he scolded her.
"But Andy…" she whined. "He looked so sad!"
Sherlock heard all this, as Andy had not mastered the art of whispering and he blanched.
Elise and Andy stayed with their uncle the rest of the day, asking him questions and telling stories. Sherlock attempted to ditch them, even going to his mother.
"Can't you get rid of them?" he asked her, and she smiled warmly.
"They're children, they'll stop following you once you start being open with them." Violet continued to wash dishes as Elise turned the corner. She was holding a magnifying glass, inspecting the carpet.
"Uncle Sherlock! Look what I got!" she squealed, waving the object. She forced it into his hands, and he looked it over.
It was a plastic one, and it didn't magnify at all. "It doesn't even work," he stated, turning it over.
Andy laughed. "Yeah, we've got to pretend."
Elise looked up with innocent eyes, so wide, and Sherlock noted, almost exactly like his. It hit him suddenly; that this child had his blood too, was his niece. "Do you pretend?" Elise asked, blinking sweetly.
Sherlock thought back to the drug rehab that his parents were forcing him to go through. "N- yes." He said finally. "I guess I do."
Andy grabbed his hand. "Will you come play with us?"
He dragged Sherlock to his room, where Elise got down her chess set. Andy whispered to Sherlock (in his horrid stage whisper) "She doesn't play it right."
Elise ignored this, taking out the pieces and lining them up in one long row. "Sit down," she commanded Sherlock, and he sat. She handed Sherlock a knight. "You're a horsey." She told him. She handed Andy a king. "And you're the king." She picked up a Queen. "and I'm the beautiful Princess." She lined up the other pieces.
"This is Daddy," she pointed to a bishop. "and this is Anthea." She pointed to the other bishop. She pointed to the pawns. "and these are my friends." She stared at them sadly. "They're imaginary though."
Sherlock held the knight carefully. "I don't have friends either," he said, looking at the pawns.
((END FLASHBACK))
John laughed. "And then what happened?"
Elise pushed the carpet with the toe of her boot. "I made the horse carry the beautiful Princess for two hours."
John laughed even harder, imagining Sherlock carrying around a three year old girl.
Author's Note
There we go, chapter nine. This one took me a bit longer, so I hope you guys enjoy it! Leave your reviews and send lots of Oreos!
((backseat reader asks for doublestuf mint))