A/N First of all, thanks to everyone, who´s reading, following and reviewing, of course. So have some fun, here comes chapter three.

"Like it?"
" Yes, Sherlock. Like it. Look at this cutie, she´s sweet like sugar. And she adores you, hell knows why, but she does. Finally, that´s all we wish for. Someone, who loves us, unconditionally."

" Why should anyone be that stupid? Love is a disadvantage and makes people act like... how would you express it, John? Familiarize yourself with monkeys? "

"It's nothing to it, in making a fool out of yourself, sometimes, Sherlock. And it's only embarrassing, if it is not highly valued and appreciated, or just ignored by the person, you love."
" Oh. You are still angry because of Molly, last Christmas. Huh?"

John snorted, " I 'm sure the poor thing has not forgotten it, either. Sherlock, damn it. Molly Hooper would die for you, if it were necessary. But ok, change of subject. "

John was carrying Carys on his arm, but she did not let Sherlock get out of her sight. "Now tell me, how did you come to her? "
"Her mother is called Emma. We shared a cart in the supermarket. "
"You did what? "
" I shared a shopping cart with Emma. Do I have to repeat everything I say all over again, or can I continue?"
John shrugged.

"Good. I wanted to practice a little social interaction. The young lady has financial difficulties, her clothing did provide strong evidence of that fact. She also seemed desperate. She entrusted me her child, and...um...took flight through the washroom window. Yeah, John. Apparently I am trustworthy." Sherlock added. He had noticed John's doubtful look.

"Won´t be difficult to find her. "

"Don´t wanna be the party pooper here, Sherlock. But you just can´t take that child. She´s abandoned by her mother, therefore we´ve got Social Services. They´ll take care of her. It´s their job, Sherlock."

John patted Carys cheek. "Are you tired, sweetie? "
Carys shook her head. "Carys hungry. Where Mama is?" She looked back at Sherlock, leaning in his direction.
"Come here, child. " Sherlock took her. "Emma asked me, John. These people would only traumatize the child and this is not going to happen. " Sherlock disappeared into the livingroom with her.

John was wondering seriously, what was probably might be the bigger trauma for the child, Social Services or Sherlock as her babysitter.

However, Sherlock tried to be nice to the little girl. He heard Sherlock talking to her in the living room. John did not understand him correctly, Sherlock spoke softly, but apparently Carys liked it, she giggled.
John spontaneously opted for semolina pudding and compote. Mrs. Hudson kept some bottled fruit in the basement.

"I´ll be in the basement, in case, you´ll miss me, Sher ... Good Lord, you cannot let her play with Hamlet 's father!" John almost fainted, Carys was sitting on the sofa, looking very interested at Sherlock's skull.

"Why not? She wanted to have it and I explained to her what it is. You don´t expect me to insult her intellect by playing hit the pot, do you, John? "

Sherlock turned back to John's laptop.

"And you find that skull educationally valuable? "
Sherlock nodded, "of course. I find it very instructive and the child seems to have fun. Isn´t that, what children a supposed to have? Fun?"

Well, John thought. Sherlock perhaps wasn´t the prototype of a perfect father, but he had recognized something razor-sharp. Children should have fun. John could not help wondering, how much fun Sherlock and Mycroft had probably had as children. Somehow he knew the answer and he felt pity for Sherlock. Honestly .

He thought of his own childhood, how much fun he and Harry always had, with his grandparents in Dorset. They owned a small farm, John had to smile. Once he had not closed the barn by mistake and the dairy cows, Trudy, Eva and Elizabeth disappeared. To make matters worse, it had also started to rain. He remembered vividly how he looked like, when the three were safely in the barn again. Dirty from head to toe, but happy.

John tried to imagine how a childhood in an old, drafty house must have been. If one was looking at Sherlock and Mycroft, then their mother must have known the terms ' love ' and 'fun' at best from the TIMES crossword puzzle. John shook his head, no wonder Sherlock was so screwed up. John didn´t judge him. Was it possible, to repair the damage somehow? Make it undone?

He switched on the light in the basement. Cherries. Mrs. Hudson had some canned cherries. John remembered, she talked about it. John went through a shelf and again he thought of Sherlock. He doubted his motivation. Was Carys some kind of an experiment? Interesting, as long as Sherlock became bored again?

Sherlock closed the laptop and watched Carys. She turned the skull several times, without being somehow irritated or repelled. She is so unbiased, Sherlock thought and sat down spontaneously to her on the couch. Carys put her unusual toy aside and crawled on Sherlock's lap.

"Hug. Carys wants a hug.", she said firmly and snuggled up to Sherlock.

John had been able to find in the cherries and came back upstairs. " You've heard it, Sherlock. Carys want´s a hug. You know how to do that? "

"I 'm not an idiot, John," Sherlock snorted and put his arms carefully around the little one. "All right for you, child?"

John noticed, to his great surprise, a slight uncertainty in Sherlock's voice.

"Sherlock Papa nice," Carys murmured and fell asleep instantly.

" How do you feel now, Sherlock? " John said softly. It was an unusual sight. The consulting detective was sitting on the sofa and had put his long arms protectively around a little girl who was taking a nap on his chest.
"How I... feel, John? "
" Yes, Sherlock. You know. In here. " John put his hand on his heart. " And don´t you say, you have none. This is not possible, anatomically . "

Sherlock remained silent.

"I just want you to make it clear, you have taken responsibility here, Sherlock. The child trust´s you unconditionally and that is a precious gift. Perhaps the most precious gift, you can get. Understand this, Sherlock? Do not disappoint this little girl."

And don´t disappoint me, John thought. I'm just starting to see you as a human being. He tore himself away from the scene and went into the kitchen.

Sherlock patted Carys back and sniffed at her hair. How good this little girl smelled and how warm she was, like a little stove in his chest. He felt his own heartbeat slow down and suddenly there was quietness in himself.

Sherlock made an almost unbelievable deduction. ... he liked it.