Chapter Text
“Moriarty!”
The name was familiar, teasingly so. Sherlock mouthed it to himself as he stepped off Jefferson Hope’s shoulder. He should remember this – he remembered everyone of importance, and clearly Moriarty was right up there. He sat patiently as the cops and EMTs found him and started tending to the already dead cabbie, vaguely conscious of Lestrade's hand on his shoulder as the detective inspector called his name. Moriarty...it was there. He just couldn’t touch it. Usually that meant one thing.
When Mycroft made his appearance, Sherlock made sure to linger for a moment before following John.
“Mycroft, do you remember a person from my...addict days?”
“I remember many people you associated with. Most of them are dead.” His brother smiled thinly.
He was about to ask if Moriarty was one of them before changing his mind. He wanted to keep this one to himself.
When the envelope came for him at Scotland Yard, the neat female scrawl on the front triggered some recollection – not enough, just a sense he’d seen it before. Attached to a phone number, perhaps...
*****
The pool was dim, light flickering eerily as water rippled over the dull blue bottom. Sherlock held up the flash drive. “I’m tired of waiting, Moriarty. Leave the cheap foreplay for someone else.”
The door on the other side of the room squeaked open and a woman walked in, the kind he might have been impressed by if he noticed women at all. She had brown waves styled elegantly around her shoulders, perfectly red lips curled smugly. She wore expensive black stilettos and a long tailored grey coat belted around a trim waist. She’d be a bit under average height without the shoes, the top of her head level with Sherlock's shoulder. Dark eyes skimmed him with barely-contained laughter as she stepped closer.
“Hello again, Sherly. You wouldn’t believe how hard it’s been holding back all this time.”
He narrowed his gaze. It was almost there...a hazy figure, the push of the needle...
“Have you got it yet?” she took small steps forward, the click of her heels echoing off the walls, “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. You were quite the junkie last time we met.”
Irish lilt...he could almost place it.
She walked until they were almost touching. “What if I give you a clue?”
She leaned in, head tilted, and ran her nose along his neck with a breathy cry. The knowledge smashed into Sherlock’s head like a stampeding bull.
“Jenna.”
“Very good, Sherly!” she smiled prettily.
“You used to be at the club. You were dating the owner.”
“You say dating, I say getting close enough to seize his operation, let’s not quibble over semantics.”
“And we...”
“Oh yes, we. Several times. You must remember that, Sherly.”
He did. The only time in his life he’d ever had sex were the years he’d spent strung out, and even then there hadn’t been enough encounters to forget someone as singular as Jenna. “You’re Moriarty?”
“Just so.”
“And this was what, some elaborate plan to pique my interest for a repeat performance?”
She laughed, the sound making him flinch as it bounced off the tiled surfaces louder and harsher. “Not at all. My business with you doesn’t stretch to pleasure – not when you’re so much more rigid than you used to be. This was a way to get your attention.”
“Well you’ve got it. What now?”
“Your gun first.”
“I think not.”
“Sherlock, I can’t risk that you’re going to have an unpredictable reaction right now. Let me assure you, it’s not my safety I’m worried about.”
He regarded her suspiciously but she looked deadly serious, and he was too far gone to walk away. He took the Browning from his pocket and tossed it into the pool.
“Good boy. Sebastian?”
A door opened to their left and a tall blond with gnarled scars down one side of his face walked in. He was ex-military, not Jen’s lover from the cool regard he paid her - so a bodyguard then. Maybe throwing away his gun hadn't been such a good idea. Sherlock looked down and his eyes caught on the small child holding Sebastian’s hand. Moriarty beckoned and the girl walked over, taking the criminal's hand.
Jen smiled. “Meredith, this is Sherlock. Sherly, this is Meredith.”
“Meredith Moriarty?” he guessed, taking in the dark curls and the slight pout of her lips.
“How stupid do you think I am? No, for security reasons she has her father’s name. Holmes.”
He stared at her for a moment before running his gaze over Meredith again. She had Jen’s hair, yes, but the pale blue-grey eyes were all his, as well as the strong nose. The girl was looking up at him curiously with none of the shyness of a normal child. She looked about four, which would have made her the right age...still, this was Moriarty. She of all people had the resources to find a child that resembled Sherlock just to mess with him.
"Should I be congratulating Mycroft?" he drawled, eyes still on the girl.
Jenna laughed. "Oh Sherly, it's so much fun watching your mind work. But you're smarter than that."
Sherlock pressed his lips together. She wasn't wrong.
“Hello, Meredith.” He choked out.
“Hello, Da.” Her accent was pure London.
Sherlock could feel Jen watching closely as he crouched to get a better look. He wasn’t well-versed in handling children but he had a fair idea you were supposed to pay them compliments.
“I like your coat.” He pointed at the red garment that was as well-cut as her mother’s.
“Thank you.”
“Do you know who I am?”
Meredith rolled her eyes. “Of course. Ma told me all about you.”
Jen snorted. “She’s a product of us, Sherly. She’s probably smarter than the average PHD student.”
“Well it’s very nice to meet you.” He said awkwardly.
“Mer, will you wait over there with Sebby while I have a chat to your Da?”
“Okay.”
The blond took her small hand and they walked around the pool unhurriedly. Sherlock followed her with his eyes the whole way.
“How are you doing, Sherly? Shock set in yet?”
“Why now?” he looked back, “Why reveal her now, instead of when you were pregnant?”
“I was busy.”
“And you’re not anymore?”
“Quite the opposite. But due to the more dangerous nature of some of my work, I thought it might be time for her to get to know her father, form a connection. If something happened to me...I want her to have a second option.”
“You could give up your work.”
“Meredith is my greatest achievement, but I couldn’t live without the work, Sherly. You must understand that.”
He looked down rather than admit she was right. “What are you expecting?”
“Shared custody. I’ll have Sebby ferry her between us. You two can bond and we’ll both have lots of time for pet projects.”
“What makes you think I'll agree to that arrangement? If I have you arrested I can take full custody.”
She pursed her lips coyly. “Afraid I’m a bad influence?”
“I know you are.”
“Can’t be worse than you, Sherly.”
“You spring this on me after four years via a series of bombings and expect I’ll go along with your plan? For God’s sake Jenna, if your life is dangerous enough that Meredith needs an out, then it’s too dangerous for her at all.”
Moriarty smiled. “I’m so pleased to see you're a protective papa already.”
Sherlock frowned. “She is my flesh and blood. I may not always get along with family but I still want to know they are safe.”
Jen fished inside her coat and pulled out an envelope with that same handwriting. “This is the key to a place I own near Baker Street. My people will move you and Dr Watson in tomorrow.”
“What?”
“Your current flat is hardly big enough for the two of you, let alone Meredith. Don’t worry darling, it’s not booby-trapped. I even think it’s to your taste.”
“Littered with cameras I suppose.”
“Surveillance and rent free, in fact - at least until Mycroft discovers it.”
“I am perfectly capable of finding my own flat.”
“But you’d have to ask brother dearest to step up your allowance if you want more space. I’m offering it no strings attached, Sherly.”
He gave her a scathing look. “I doubt that.”
“Sherlock, it’s well past Mer’s bedtime so let’s end this. You have two options – I walk out of here and you never see her again, or we come to a truce and share her. You’ll stop chasing me, I’ll stay away from you and your little pals. You’ll get a chance to know Meredith - your only chance.”
“I could find her without your permission.”
“You know I could take her well beyond your resources. And what kind of message does it send a child, seeing her parents fight?”
Sherlock was quiet. Half an hour ago he’d had no idea the child existed; now he was determined not to leave her with only Moriarty as a role model. If he couldn’t get her away from the mastermind then he had no choice. “Fine.”
“Good! Sebastian?”
The guard escorted Meredith back and Moriarty swept her up onto her hip in a much more maternal fashion than Sherlock had expected.
“Say goodbye to your Da. You can see him again tomorrow.”
“Bye, Da.”
“Goodbye, Meredith.”
“I’ll send the details of the deal over with her once you and darling Johnny have settled in. Ta-ta!” Jen waved and carried the girl out.
*****
Sherlock was rather at a loss how to explain this to John. He had to do it before the movers showed up to take their things to the new flat but the doctor wasn’t home when he got there. His second concern was making sure the flat was as harmless as Jen had assured him, which required a call he’d rather not make. Mycroft was going to be so smug.
But he had to learn to ask for help. He was probably going to need a lot.
I need to see you - SH
It’s three in the morning. Is this really vital? - Mycroft
Yes - SH
I’ll be over soon - Mycroft
He hung up, pacing the lounge room for the full twenty minutes it took Mycroft to let himself in. His brother looked unrumpled in one of his normal suits, sinking wearily into John’s armchair.
“Now, what is so pressing it could not wait?”
“I assume you know Jenna Moriarty.”
Mycroft’s face paled. “Naturally. She is a significant threat. We like to monitor those closely.”
“Close enough to know she has a daughter?”
“Ah. No.”
“Our daughter, I should say.”
The statesman frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
Sherlock finally stopped pacing, sitting opposite his brother. Instead he began to rapidly tap his foot. “I had a brief connection with Jenna during my...five years ago.”
“A connection of a sexual nature?”
“Yes.”
“And she claims you fathered this child?”
“I know it, Mycroft. I saw her. The resemble is undeniable.”
He looked thoughtful. “Why did she tell you now?”
“She wants us to share custody, to give Meredith some kind of stability.”
“But not enough to just hand her over to you full-time?”
“No.”
Mycroft smoothed the fabric over his knees. “Very well. I will put together an extraction team-”
“No.”
“No?”
“I will not do anything that jeopardises Meredith or my access to her.”
Mycroft’s face darkened, surprise written over his features. “Sherlock, if you really care about her, you’ll understand we can’t leave her with Moriarty.”
“I understand that no matter who her mother is, Meredith will not be better off if Jenna’s suddenly removed from her life.”
“Be reasonable. Moriarty’s lifestyle endangers her.”
“I trust that Meredith’s security is her utmost priority. After all, it’s been four years and you didn’t know about her.”
Mycroft sighed. “Very well. What did you call me for then?”
“Jen is giving John and I a flat because Baker Street is too small for three people. I want you to have your team check it out, make sure there’s nothing untoward about the place before tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
“But Mycroft, don’t bother installing your cameras. I’m sure Moriarty will only have them removed to protect Meredith’s privacy.”
“I’ll try to restrain myself. Is that all?”
“For now.”
Mycroft stood wearily but paused with a strange expression. “You are a father, Sherlock Holmes.”
“I suppose I am.”
“Are you ready for all that entails?”
“No, but I have John and Mrs Hudson and you to advise me. I'm sure I can cope.”
“If this were any normal child perhaps, but considering her parents...”
“What?” Sherlock looked up.
Mycroft smiled evilly. “I look forward to watching you struggle.”
By the world’s worst luck John showed up at the exact same time as Moriarty’s removalists. Sherlock left the packing to them, the team of four moving through their flat like a hurricane of high efficiency while he tried to calm the doctor down.
“You didn’t think to tell me you were leaving? Sherlock, how am I supposed to afford this place by myself?”
“I didn’t know I was going anywhere until eight hours ago and I didn’t think you’d appreciate being woken up.”
“Of all the inconsiderate things you’ve done, this is the worst!” the blond ranted.
“John, please. Try to listen.”
A removalist carried a box up the stairs towards John’s room and he turned. “Hey! What are you doing?”
“They’re getting your things.”
“Sherlock, what the hell is going on!”
“I am trying to explain!” he sighed, exasperated, “We’re both moving.”
“Oh, and you just decided this did you?”
“I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Will you please sit and let me explain?”
John scowled but flopped into a chair. Sherlock took a breath.
“I met Moriarty last night. Or re-met.”
“What!”
Sherlock gave him a warning look and John clamped his mouth shut.
“It turns out I knew her years ago while deeply into my substance abuse. We...”
“You what?”
Sherlock made a vague gesture and John sucked in a breath.
“Moriarty’s a woman.”
“Yes.”
“A woman you had sex with?”
“Yes.”
“You. Had sex.”
“Yes.”
“With Moriarty?”
“Please try not to be so dense!”
John threw up his hands. “Alright! So what happened?”
“Well, thanks to the drug-induced lack of caution and the natural laws of reproduction, our relations had a common side-effect.”
“A what?”
He clenched his eyes shut, speaking rapidly to force the words out. “We have a daughter.”
The kitchen was silent for so long Sherlock thought maybe he’d passed out, but when he opened his eyes John was staring at him.
“Well say something.”
“You have a daughter.”
“It appears so.”
John burst out laughing so hard he hunched over and held his stomach, forehead flat against the table. Sherlock huffed and crossed his arms, but when a full minute passed and he hadn’t stopped the detective reached over and pinched John’s arm.
“Hey!”
“Please take this seriously.”
“Oh I am, it’s just priceless. The one time you sleep with someone and you end up with a child.”
“Jen wants us to get to know each other. We’re going to share custody.”
“How? Baker Street’s not big enough – oh. The moving?”
“Yes. She arranged it.”
“You found another flat?”
“Not exactly. Mycroft accommodated me.” Sherlock lied, not sure how John would take the idea of a possible trap. His brother had assured him everything seemed to check out but it was better not to make things worse.
“How much?”
“Free. I hope that’s acceptable?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“And, um, living with a child part of the time?”
“I’d love to meet her,” the doctor suddenly smiled, jumping up to hug his flatmate, “You’re a dad, Sherlock!”
He smiled for the first time since he’d found out. “I guess I am.”
“This calls for a celebration. Shall we get some breakfast?”
“I think I’d rather survey our new living situation. We can get a second key cut for you, check out the flat?”
“Sounds good.”
The new place was as close as Jen had said, still in Marylebone but a slightly nicer section near Harley Street. John was quite familiar with the area, given the number of medical practices. The pair got out of a cab and looked up at the thin white facade of the house.
“Flash.”
“I’m glad we’re not the ones paying for it.” Sherlock nodded.
John gave him a skeptical look that said he didn’t believe Sherlock ever thought about money and followed him through the low gate. When they got to the black front door he frowned. “Do we know which flat?”
Sherlock checked the keyring but it was just a blank tag. "The address didn’t specify."
“I guess we’ll figure it out.”
He unlocked the door and stepped into a blue carpeted hallway. John looked around with a gape.
“No way. This isn’t possible. A whole house? In Marylebone?”
It was narrow and not terribly long but still spacious. Sherlock walked into a lounge room that looked a lot like Baker Street, dark wood paneled walls and a fireplace with one or two gaps where their furniture would slot in and space for their decorations. John walked past him into the fully-stocked kitchen with a whistle.
“Mycroft went all out.”
“Perhaps he’s excited at the prospect of being an uncle. It gives him one more person to fuss over.”
The rest of the first floor was an elegant dining room Sherlock knew they’d never use and a huge linen cupboard/pantry. The next floor up was a trio of bedrooms, each with their own ensuite. Two were still mostly empty but the third was completely set up for a child (albeit not a normal one.) There was a white bookcase full of academic texts and one just for classic fiction, an ornate white Baroque bed with a mountain of tasteful gold pillows and a wardrobe full of tiny designer children’s clothes. John held up a small white dress that looked like Chanel and muffled a squeak.
“God Sherlock, this is bizarre.”
“Come on, let’s look upstairs.”
The third floor was one huge lab/workroom. Half was set up with slightly lower counters, and there was a lock on the chemicals cupboard.
“I guess Mycroft’s expecting you to include Meredith in some of your experiments?” John frowned.
“Evidently he thinks it’s safer up here than the kitchen.”
The blond snorted. “He’s right.”
The door opened downstairs. "Mr Holmes?"
"Just a minute!" he yelled backed.
“It’s very nice. I almost feel guilty taking it.” John made a face.
“It’s early yet. We’ll see how you feel in a week.”
“Sherlock?”
“Hmm?” he drifted out of Meredith’s room where he’d been examining the contents of the bookcases.
John was standing by his bedroom door. “Where’s my gun?”
“Ah. It was lost.”
“Lost?”
“I took it to the meeting with Moriarty.”
The doctor looked annoyed but shrugged. “At least you were being careful.”
“Better late than never.”
John snickered. “When is she getting here?”
“Once we’ve settled in – I assume within the hour.”
“I’ll see what’s in the kitchen. Do you know if she has any dietary requirements?”
“No.”
“Allergies?”
“No.” Sherlock frowned. Raising a child was going to need a lot more attention to detail. He was good at that, right?
John caught the flicker of worry and smiled. “Relax. It’s only been twelve hours. I’m sure Moriarty will tell you everything you need to know.”
“John, what if I am an abject failure? I am not emotionally inclined in the least. Don’t children need affection and praise?”
“Firstly, the way you’re so committed to this so quickly shows you already care. Imagine how much stronger that feeling will be once you get to know her. Secondly, I figure a child of you and Moriarty wouldn’t incur any of the scorn the rest of us unfortunate idiots get. You’ll be fine.”
He felt surprisingly better. "Of course. I'll finally have some intelligent conversation."
"Thanks a lot." the ex-soldier sighed, rolling his eyes.
John went downstairs to look for tea and biscuits and Sherlock went to get a feel for the new living room. He’d been pacing for ten minutes when the bell rang.
“I’ll get it!” he hurried into the hall, throwing the door open.
Meredith stood on the doorstep with Sebastian, one hand on her shoulder protectively and a lime green backpack in the other.
“Sebastian,” Sherlock waved him in, “Hello, Meredith.”
“Hi, Da.”
She reached out and squeezed his hand and he smiled uncertainly. The gunman seemed to be giving him a pointed look and the detective quickly knelt to hug her. Her tiny arms wrapped around him tight for a moment before letting go.
Sherlock tried for a welcoming smile and only managed to make himself look slightly ill. “Come in, there’s someone I need to introduce you to.”
John had come into the lounge on hearing voices and his face brightened as they walked in.
“John, this is Meredith and Sebastian. Meredith, this is my flatmate Dr John Watson.”
“The army surgeon. Ma told me about you too.”
“Good things, I hope. My, you look like your dad.”
She blushed happily and Sebastian cleared his throat. “Mer, would you mind helping Dr John make some tea so I can have a word with your father?”
“Okay.”
John offered his hand and she took it, the pair disappearing into the kitchen. Sherlock waved at John’s armchair. “Please take a seat.”
Sebastian sat and opened the backpack, pulling out a thick folder. He handed it to the detective. “This is copies of everything you need. Birth certificate, medical records, likes and dislikes. The boss has been home-schooling her and there’s a list of topics they’ve covered – and ones best left alone until she’s a bit older. The details of your cases fall under that heading, I think.”
“Obviously. I assume there are rules to this.”
“Of course. Don’t endanger her, don’t tell anyone the identity of her mother, don’t advertise her existence more than necessary. You don’t have to keep her cooped up in the house but the less noticeable, the better.”
“Sensible.”
“You’ll have her one week out of every two, and the holidays will be negotiated a month in advance. If you want to take her anywhere outside of London, you’ll need to consult Jen.”
“Will she return the favour?”
Sebastian grinned. “No. A small sum will be placed in your account every week to help with her expenses-”
“That’s not necessary.”
“The boss insists. If Meredith is alone with you and for some reason you need to go out urgently – and I stress urgently – I can come over and watch her. It’s not to be abused though.”
“I appreciate the consideration but I doubt I’ll be doing much casework on the weeks she’s here.”
“There’s a sheet with contacts for Jen and myself. If anything happens to Meredith, tell one of us immediately. And most importantly, you’re not in any way to discuss Jen’s job.”
He scoffed. “Doesn’t that fall under the category of things not to be discussed with a child?”
Sebastian stood. “I’ll be back to collect her in a week, same time.”
“You’re leaving now?” Sherlock said anxiously.
“Is that a problem?” his blue eyes hardened.
“No. We’ll see you in a week.”
Sebastian headed for the kitchen. “I’m off, Mer.”
“You said you’d stay for tea!” she pouted and Sherlock recognised Jenna in the expression.
Apparently it worked because Sebastian sighed. “One quick cup.”
John poured, and they settled around the kitchen table in silence. Meredith and Sherlock couldn’t stop looking at each other. John thought it was sort of adorable as he helped himself to another biscuit.
Tea drunk, Sebastian walked around the table to kneel by Meredith’s chair. “I’m going now but I’ll be back in a week. If you need to talk to your mother, just ask Sherlock or John, they’ve got the number. Let us know if there’s anything you need or if you want to come home early.”
“I’ll be okay, Bastian.” She smiled.
“Alright. Be good for your dad then.”
She kissed his cheek and the sniper blushed, getting up. He nodded once to Sherlock and the detective stood. “I’ll walk you out.”
The two men headed for the front door and John smiled at Meredith. “So, what do you want to do now?”
“I want to play a game with Da.”
“I think we’ve got Monopoly around here somewhere. Do you want me to give you two some time alone?”
“You can play, Dr John.”
“Just John is fine.”
“You’re nice,” She grinned, “I’m glad Da has such nice friends.”
John couldn’t hold back the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest at that, beaming as he put the mugs in the sink. “I’ll find that game then.”
Sherlock walked back in and regarded the pair a little warily. His arms hung limp like he wasn’t sure what to do now.
“Meredith’s asked to play Monopoly with us.”
Sherlock shot him a grateful look. “Ah. That sounds fun.”
“So long as neither of you cheat, I’ll be happy.”
Sherlock and his daughter made an identical mock-offended face, but John wasn’t convinced.
*****
It wasn’t fair. A four year old had trounced him at Monopoly. Admittedly she and Sherlock had been scheming against him, but still! John used to think he was pretty good at the game but they’d managed to bankrupt him in a heartbeat. From there it had dissolved into a contest of wits between the two Holmeses –that was a weird thought – and John had retired to making tea and bringing snacks. There was a smaller tea cup in the cupboard he guessed was for Meredith and was touched again by Mycroft’s attention to detail.
The game was in its fifth hour, John curled in his armchair half-reading and half-watching. Sherlock had secured the costlier rentals but Meredith had more properties. Rather than expend on hotels she’d built houses, but she’d built them everywhere. Sherlock couldn’t move without landing on something. It was hard to say who’d win.
There was a knock at the door and Sherlock looked at him, puzzled. No one knew they’d moved.
“I’ll get it.” The doctor said.
He covertly took the firebrand from its place by the hearth and wished fervently for his gun as he opened the door.
“Mycroft?”
The older Holmes looked almost embarrassed. “I hope I am not intruding. I...I wanted to see everything was in order.”
“Sure. Uh, come in.”
He walked into the hall, pausing in the lounge room door. Sherlock looked up and raised a brow. Meredith was counting her money with a smile, but she noticed the man not long after her father and gave Sherlock a timid look. Mycroft was staring at her with an expression John had never seen on him before: shock, or maybe wonder. It had a warm edge to it, something paternal too.
“Mycroft?”
“I’m sorry, perhaps I should have called.”
“It’s fine,” Sherlock flicked a glance at his daughter, “Come in.”
Mycroft took a few steps and stopped again.
“Meredith, this is your Uncle Mycroft. Mycroft, this is Meredith Holmes.”
His brow twitched at the last name but he smiled more sincerely than usual. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear.”
“You’re older than Da.” She said, tilting her head.
John smothered a guffaw as Mycroft smiled wryly. “A little, yes.”
“Would you like to play?” she gestured at the board.
“I can see you’re almost finished. I’m happy to wait.”
He moved into Sherlock’s chair and John sat down again, the two of them watching as the pair on the floor played out the last few rounds. Sherlock won but only just, and from the crooked smile he gave Mycroft John was fairly sure he’d been trying his hardest. Meredith quickly reset the board, but envisioning another six hour game John cleared his throat.
“How about something else? Cluedo?”
Sherlock shot him a glare and John sighed.
“Or whatever. I’ll check what we have. Do you want to come see?”
Meredith nodded and followed him to the big cupboard at the end of the hall. Mycroft stared after them.
“Well?” Sherlock said quietly.
“She's a Holmes, that’s for certain.”
“First person to challenge me at a game since you.”
“She’s gorgeous.”
The softness in Mycroft’s tone was shocking. Sherlock was suddenly reminded of the times when he’d been very young and Mycroft had looked after him. They were distant memories now but he could recall that same breathless adoration. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Things are arranged between you and Moriarty?”
“Yes. I’ve got Meredith for a week at a time.”
“You mustn't hesitate to ask if you need help.”
Sherlock managed a grin at that. “You’re welcome to visit.”
“Thank you.”
Meredith came back holding John’s hand and a small wooden box. The doctor looked both apprehensive and excited.
“What did you pick, Meredith?” Sherlock asked.
She held up a three-player chess board that definitely hadn’t come from Baker Street, and Sherlock wondered if Moriarty had put it there on purpose for just this moment.
“Will you and Uncle Mycroft play?”
The elder Holmes gave him a resigned look as Sherlock grinned wickedly. “Of course. Let’s put it on the coffee table though – Uncle Mycroft’s knees aren’t what they used to be.”
John could barely contain his giggles as the trio set out their pieces and sat facing each other. The room had taken on a very tense competitive atmosphere and he knew this was more than likely to end with a yelling match between the brothers, but it was too good a chance to pass up. He expected Meredith might not last long but he couldn’t be sure. Mycroft and Sherlock both seemed enchanted with her; perhaps they would go easy to draw the game out. Neither of them were the coddling type though. Either way it was going to be an interesting game. He pulled his chair closer, wishing he could invite Lestrade over. He had a feeling the detective inspector would get a kick out of this.
Sherlock may have initially intended to go a little easy on Meredith, figuring it would be more entertaining for her if she had a shot, but it was quickly made apparent that chess was one of Jen’s lessons when the girl came out of nowhere and swept away his bishop with a move so beautiful he never expected it. He could see the shock on Mycroft’s face too, and some internal pride not to be thoroughly defeated by his own daughter made Sherlock play as he normally would have.
Much of the game between Mycroft and Sherlock happened in their heads, eyes locked on each other as they deduced the next series of moves each would make. Meredith barely seemed to look at them at all, her eyes only on the board, but she opened up pathways and captured pieces with lightning speed and precision while maintaining a strong defence. Sherlock was the most daring of the three and Mycroft’s the most strategic game, but the three were fairly equally matched. Mycroft took one of Meredith’s knights and she frowned, focusing even harder.
John had half expected this to take as long as the Monopoly but it was just the opposite. They would take long pauses weighing each other up, and then suddenly the pieces would be flying over the board. It looked like Meredith was winning, and then Sherlock, and then his brother and then back to Sherlock again, when suddenly Meredith slid her queen forward.
“Double checkmate.”
Sherlock stared at the board with his mouth open while Mycroft blinked at the girl like he’d misheard her. John could see the artful way she’d moved exactly between the two kings, their own pieces preventing them moving away. She’d herded them towards each other and then swooped in for the victory, grinning proudly.
“Well done!” he clapped.
She threw him a happy look before Sherlock reached over and kissed her head. “It seems you’re the cleverest Holmes, my dear.”
“I shall have to relinquish you a congratulatory cupcake.” Mycroft agreed.
She looked fit to burst with glee, leaning into Sherlock’s touch. John glanced at the clock. “I think it’s your bedtime, miss.”
“Aw, can’t I stay up a little longer?”
“Yes, can’t she?” Sherlock looked at him just as pleadingly.
John hid a chuckle. “You can play again in the morning.”
“Dr Watson is right. There will be plenty of time for a rematch.” Mycroft said fondly.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll help you get ready for bed.” Sherlock frowned.
Meredith stood and wrinkled her nose for a moment before throwing her arms around Mycroft’s neck. “Goodnight, Uncle Mycroft.”
He patted her back. “Goodnight, Meredith.”
Sherlock offered his hand and led her upstairs. John shook his head. “Amazing.”
“She is, yes.”
“No, both of them. Sherlock Holmes kissing people’s heads.”
“He’s not a robot, John. She is his child.”
“I know, I just...didn’t expect them to be so comfortable so fast.”
Mycroft stood and John slowly walked him to the door. “He’ll need you, John. Children need boundaries and Sherlock does not have the strength of will to discipline one. He has almost no practical knowledge of running a household or keeping another being fed and well-rested.”
“I’ll look after them.”
Mycroft paused in the doorway. “I am always available, as I said.”
By the time John got upstairs they’d managed to find and get Meredith into a long pink nightgown and brush her teeth. Sherlock was settling her under the covers, fussing with the pillows.
"Are you warm enough?"
“I’m fine, Da.”
“I’m right next door and John’s across the hall if you need anything.”
“Will you read me a story?”
“Which story?”
“Scott.”
He rummaged through the bookshelf until he found it, standing awkwardly by the bed. Meredith patted the mattress beside her and he sat. John listened out of sight to the low drone as he read, spinning the tale of crusaders and Saxons without much animation, but trying at least. It was difficult to believe how different their life was to what it had been this morning.
After fifteen minutes he stuck his head in. Sherlock was still reading but Meredith looked fast asleep, curls spread over the pillow.
“I think she’s out.” He whispered.
Sherlock looked up in surprise and checked. “Ah. Yes.”
He carefully climbed off the bed, laying the book on the bedside table. He turned on a small lamp and walked over to the main light, pausing.
“This is terrifying, John. Look at that frail small creature. I am supposed to look after her and I can barely look after myself.”
“You’ve got me to help.”
“What if she doesn’t like me once the novelty wears off?”
“She’ll love you. You’re her dad.”
“My mind is overflowing with mundane concerns and worries. I don’t know how to braid hair or shop for birthday presents or pack a lunch or-”
“Sherlock, relax.”
“I don’t even know what children like.”
“You can figure it out. I have faith in you.”
“John," he whispered, "What if I mess everything up?”
“Children are fairly forgiving. Meredith knows it’s as new for you as it is for her. Remember you can always call Moriarty if you need to check things, and you’ve got me and Mycroft too. We’ll get used to it, Sherlock.”
“I hope so.” he muttered.
The next morning John walked into Sherlock’s room and found Meredith curled up with the detective and snorted softly. They’d do just fine.
*****
“Pancakes?” John asked when Sherlock finally emerged.
“Thank you. There’s a list on the fridge – I don’t think Meredith has any allergies but you should check.”
“Alright. You get her ready.”
“Uh, right.”
“You can do it, Sherlock. You got her dressed for bed.”
Sherlock mumbled something that sounded like ‘pyjamas are easy’ before disappearing back into his room. The girl was sitting up with a yawn. “Good morning.”
“Morning, Da.”
“John’s making breakfast. Would you like to pick your clothes?”
“Can I pick yours too?”
“Um, sure.”
She giggled and headed for his wardrobe. Meredith pawed through the suits until she found a pair of grey pants and a soft blue shirt that matched his eyes, thrusting them at Sherlock before grabbing his hand and dragging him to her room. She opened her cupboard and stared thoughtfully. Meredith chose a pair of green jeans and a lemon sweater and laid them on the bed.
“You’ll be alright on your own?” Sherlock glanced at the bathroom.
She gave him a baleful look. “Yes, Da.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a moment.”
He waited until he heard the water running and rushed to his room to dress, knowing he shouldn’t leave her unsupervised too long. He knocked on the door.
“How are you going?”
“Almost done!”
It was another few minutes before the water stopped and then a few more before she opened the door clad in a towel, hair dripping down her back. Sherlock took the material and rubbed it against her curls without being too rough, making sure he’d gotten as much moisture out as possible before waving her towards her clothes. She got a little stuck with the sweater but he gave a helpful tug and then looked around for a hairbrush. He found it in the bathroom and motioned for her to stand in front of him as he gently worked the knots out.
“You’re good at this.”
“I’ve got curly hair too.” He grinned.
“I must get it from you.”
“Most likely.”
He took comfort in the repetitive, easy strokes of the brush. This at least he could do without messing up. Once it was untangled though he was a bit lost about whether or not he should attempt to tie it back, but decided that was too much for the present.
“Breakfast?”
“Sure.”
She held his hand as they headed downstairs. John had already made a short stack on the counter, smiling as Meredith climbed onto her chair. “Good morning, Merry.”
“Morning, Uncle John.”
Sherlock smiled at the heart-wrenching surprise and pleasure on John’s face before stepping in to save the man. “What do you want on your pancakes, Meredith?”
“Honey.”
“Okay.”
He looked in just about every cupboard before he found it, spreading a thick layer over her pancakes. He sat beside her and watched intently as she ate, half afraid she was going to choke.
“Why aren’t you eating, Da?”
“I’m not hungry.”
She scowled, and it was such a fierce little reflection of Jen that Sherlock actually started in his chair. “You need to eat. Ma didn’t like to either but I told her it’s not good for you to skip meals.”
John bit his lip as he looked over her head. “She’s right, Sherlock.”
He stuck his tongue in his cheek but sighed. “I suppose you won’t take no for an answer?”
“Nope.”
He got up with a grumble and took a pancake from the stack. She eyed him with a look he expected from Mycroft and he rolled his eyes but took another. “Happy?”
“Yes.” She grinned, stabbing another syrupy mouthful with her fork. She had honey on her cheek and it was dangerously close to getting in her hair. Sherlock had to figure out this grooming thing.
“I’ve got a shift at the clinic today. Will you two be alright by yourselves?”
Sherlock looked up wide-eyed and John gave him a reassuring smile.
“You can text me if you get lost.”
“We’ll be fine, right Da?”
“I’m sure we can find something to do.”
“Okay. Have a good day.”
Meredith raised her face expectantly and he bent down. She pressed a sticky kiss to his cheek and Sherlock snickered, but then John walked out and the front door shut and it was just him and a four year old girl in an empty house.
He almost missed Jenna. At least he could handle her.
What do children find entertaining? - SH
WHY DON'T YOU PLAY ANOTHER GAME? MORIARTY GAVE YOU THAT CURRICULUM, YOU COULD START TEACHING HER SOMETHING.
SOMETHING APPROPRIATE.
Have printed off worksheets for basic German and ordered a variety of textbooks – SH
How often do children need to eat, and how much? – SH
Cooking is just chemistry. Should be able to whip something up – SH
Am going to make pasta – SH
Pasta seems horribly complex. Am going to make sandwiches – SH
Cannot find the bread – SH
Where is it? – SH
There is a bread bin but no bread. How could they miss that? – SH
Making sandwiches with leftover pancakes as bread – SH
Is that nutritious enough or should her diet be more varied? – SH
SHE'LL BE FINE, SHERLOCK. I'LL GET BREAD ON THE WAY HOME.
Do four year olds need a nap? – SH
Meredith did not take kindly to that suggestion. She is complaining in French – SH
And Spanish – SH
And Russian – SH
And Gaelic – SH
She seems quite adept with the Gaelic. German should go well – SH
Is Connie Price alright to watch or will it negatively impact her feminine self-esteem? – SH
I think I need a nap – SH
When are you getting home? – SH
Meredith is teaching me about astronomy. Much more interesting than when you tried – SH
Do you think Mrs Hudson will teach me to plait her hair? – SH
Mrs H on her way over. She sounded very excited. I fear I have made a grave mistake – SH
Mrs H and Meredith getting along splendidly, though she sometimes gives me a look when Mrs H gets too gushy. Have practiced plaiting and moved on to ponytails. It is not as hard as it looks – SH
Pigtails impossible. Won’t sit symmetrically – SH
Meredith insisting on trying to braid my hair. Head is now covered in short plaits – SH
Mrs H will not stop laughing. Meredith seems to like them – SH
When are you getting back? Bring dinner – SH
By the time John got home Mrs Hudson had left and there was a soft squeaking coming from the lounge. He hung up his coat and walked in to find Sherlock kneeling beside Meredith, his violin in her hands. He was helping her get the notes she couldn’t reach with her smaller fingers, muttering softly as he guided her through the song. Her hair sat in two long plaits, while Sherlock had undone his except for one just behind his ear. John wasn’t sure he knew it was there but he wasn’t going to say anything.
“Hello then. Did we have a good day?”
“It was lots of fun.” Meredith chirped.
Sherlock looked at the takeout in the doctor’s hand with a weary but happy smile and John grinned.
“See? Nothing to it.”
Sherlock stayed up late that night running through Moriarty’s list of topics they had and hadn’t covered. He pulled up example teaching plans, websites on home schooling, tips for raising child prodigies that were mostly unhelpful but sparked a few ideas of his own and gave himself a quick brush up on basic primary science and math. When John woke in the morning it was to find Sherlock in the kitchen attempting to make French toast, Meredith swinging her legs as she sat on the table behind him in a bright blue dress that had a distinctly Audrey Hepburn feel. Her hair was in two buns on the sides of her head, a bit messy but much better than he’d expected.
“That smells good.”
“It’s his second try.” She smiled.
Sherlock raised a brow. “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to share that with Uncle John.”
“Sorry.” She said without looking particularly repentant.
“Plans for the day?”
“Meredith and I are going to do some reading and then play chess, and then we’ll have some time in the lab.” Sherlock looked at him proudly.
“I see you’ve been doing some preparation.”
“It’s like anything else, John. Data is the way to results. Here, taste this.”
John took a bite of the offered toast and moaned. “Good. Bit more cinnamon and they’ll be perfect.”
“Cinnamon.” Sherlock muttered, turning back to the spice rack.
“Have fun then,” John gave a wave as he headed out. He bumped into Mycroft at the front door. “Oh, hey. Didn’t know you were coming over.”
“I thought I’d check on things. How are they both?”
“Good, good. Sherlock’s got a busy day planned.”
“Excellent. Perhaps it’s best I not disturb them.”
“I’m sure he won’t mind you spending some time with them. I know they were going to play chess again.”
Mycroft grinned. “Then I shall offer my services for the game.”
He headed inside and found Sherlock and Meredith finishing their breakfast.
“Mycroft.” His brother quirked his lip.
“Hello, Uncle Mycroft.” She flapped a sugary hand at him.
“Hello, my dear. I thought I’d come by and say hello. Dr Watson tells me you’ve got your day planned out?”
“We do.” Sherlock said with that same touch of pride.
“I hope you won’t object if I tag along? I won’t interfere.”
Sherlock looked like he didn’t believe that but Meredith was nodding excitedly so he shrugged and put their plates in the sink.
“What’s that?” she pointed at something under Mycroft's arm.
“Oh, this. It was one of your father’s favourites when he was little and I thought you might like it.” Mycroft held up the battered copy of Treasure Island.
“Can we read it?” she asked Sherlock.
“Wash your hands first.”
Meredith scrambled away from the table and he gave Mycroft an odd look.
“I thought you’d forgotten about my pirate phase.”
“How could I? You used to rope me in as victim.”
*****
After another two days in which Sherlock thought he did well coping with Meredith by himself, John got a day off and Sherlock decided they’ve been in the house too long. He burst into the doctor’s room.
“John, which do you think Meredith would prefer, the zoo or the British Museum?”
“Sherlock...it’s seven o’clock for God’s sake!”
“I need time to prepare.”
John thought about which he’d pick. “The zoo.”
“You’re certain?”
“Observing living creatures trumps artefacts for me, but you two can probably bond more over deducing relics and statues.”
“It’s difficult.” Sherlock mused.
“Why don’t you ask Merry which she’d like better and save the other one for her next visit?”
“Right.” He bustled out again.
John sighed. There was no way he’d get back to sleep now and he knew Sherlock would have no clue how to go about taking the girl out. He got up and dressed in the most comfortable jumper he had, heading downstairs to start breakfast.
Sherlock came down ten minutes later with a smile. “Zoo.”
“Great. You’ll need to pack her bag.”
“With what?”
“Kids need stuff, Sherlock. Snacks, drinks, spare clothes, emergency bandaids. An umbrella. Wipes for their hands and face when they get ice cream all over themselves.”
“Do we have those things?” Sherlock frowned.
“We should do. Here, I’ll pack it and tell you what I’ve got in there for future reference. You take over breakfast.”
It was only sausages and toast so Sherlock couldn’t mess it up that badly. He watched with interest as John searched the cupboard for what they’d need. He zipped it all into Meredith’s little green backpack and gave a curt nod.
“Military life comes in handy sometimes.”
Sherlock made a face at the state of the fridge. “We’ll need to do a grocery shop soon.”
Meredith walked in wearing a red sweater and jeans, her hairbrush and some ties in one hand. “Da, can you help me?”
“Sure thing, Merry.”
John looked at him in surprise but Meredith seemed ecstatic, hugging his leg for a second before she handed him the brush. He kept an eye on the sausages while he gently worked out the knots and pulled it back into a no-nonsense ponytail.
“You’re improving.” John remarked.
“I’d like to see you do better.” The detective sniffed.
“I had a sister.” John smiled down at the girl and she giggled.
They were putting on their coats and scarves and gloves (and a beanie for Meredith) when Sherlock’s phone rang. “Sherlock Holmes.”
“Sherlock, I’ve got one for ya. Double homicide in Hammersmith, locked basement. Will ya come?”
His face twitched. He hadn’t had a case in five days but amazingly he hadn’t even noticed; he’d been too busy with Meredith. But just the mention of a fresh puzzle had his mind churning, and he clenched his jaw as he glanced at the pair waiting for him by the door.
“I’m sorry, Lestrade. I am unavailable for the next two days.”
“You’re what?”
“In fact we need to discuss some scheduling changes. I’ll come down to the Yard and fill you in.”
“Sherlock, what am I meant to do with these people in the meantime?”
“Your job, for a start.” He rolled his eyes and hung up.
“Are we ready?” John asked pointedly.
“Completely.”
They walked to the kerb and hailed a taxi, Meredith sitting between them in the back seat. The zoo was close enough that normally Sherlock would have walked but he was mindful of Sebastian’s warning to keep Meredith out of sight as much as possible. They took the short ride around Regent’s Park and stopped at the gates.
“Alright, now stay close to me and your dad.” John cautioned as they climbed out.
Sherlock and Meredith rolled their eyes at the same time and he raised a hand.
“Hey! I saw that. Behave – both of you.”
Sherlock got the tickets, both Holmeses instantly hurrying to the first enclosure. John followed with a sigh. It was going to be a long day. This was only confirmed when the woman behind the kiosk counter smiled at them.
“Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Yes.” Sherlock frowned, as if that went without saying.
“You two are just the luckiest fellows!”
“We’re not together,” John said hurriedly, “I’m not gay.”
She gave him a funny look and waved them through. John looked around quickly, paranoid that everyone thought they were a couple.
“John dear, try to keep up!” Sherlock called over his shoulder.
“Oh you smug bastard.” He hissed, ducking his head as they passed a group of smiling women.
They came home four hours later in the middle of a debate over the evolutionary links between bonobos and chimps and John was about ready to pass out. Chasing after two highly enthusiastic but slightly absentmindedly children was more than he was used to, but they’d made it back unscathed. He trudged upstairs and promptly dropped onto his bed for a nap. Sherlock and Meredith headed to her room to consult one of the books on animal biology, the detective hanging up her outer things as they moved around the room in tandem.
“You can argue that there are plenty of non-mammal species that share percentages of our DNA almost as great as chimpanzees.”
“But socially-” she started.
“Ah, we never said we were speaking socially. There are still other species that behave like us.”
She had the book down and was bringing it to the bed when Sherlock’s phone rang. He held up a finger.
“Sorry. We’ll continue this. Sherlock Holmes?”
“Sherly! How are things?”
“Good.”
“Getting along alright with Mer?” Jenna chuckled.
“We’ve been having fun, haven’t we?” he smiled.
“Excellent. I just called to check in and to remind you Sebastian will be collecting her tomorrow afternoon.”
“I remembered.”
“May I speak to her?”
“It’s your mother.” He held out the phone.
Meredith took the handset happily. “Hi, Ma.”
Their conversation was in Gaelic so Sherlock only got bits and pieces, but he could tell Meredith was giving a brief rundown of her stay. He spotted the blush when she said she liked him and felt a stupid giddy rush in his stomach.
“Okay. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
Meredith hung up and handed the phone back. She was so small and yet so significant at the same time. Sherlock had never really paid much attention to people, but the few that interested him had a sense of presence – John, Jenna, even Mycroft. This child was more intriguing than any of them. He wanted her to like him, something he’d never cared about much in the past. He had all these new warm protective and proud feelings when he looked at her. It was unsettling.
“Come here, Merry.”
She climbed into his lap and he held her close, feeling the soft curls under his chin as she buried her face in his chest.
“I’m glad I got to meet you.”
She squeezed him tighter. “I’m glad too.”
*****
Sebastian came at exactly three. John was coordinating an attempt to teach both Sherlock and Meredith how to bake; the tray of cookies was horribly misshapen but the icing covered most of the mistakes.
“Sebastian!” Meredith smiled as he walked in.
“Hey Mer. Did you have a good week?”
“Yeah! Do you want a biscuit?”
“Sure.”
Sherlock stiffened, as if being caught by a sort-of enemy in an apron was the worst ambush possible. He dusted off his hands, untying Meredith's apron for her. “Merry, why don’t we run upstairs and get your bag? I’m sure your mother’s anxious to see you.”
“Okay.”
The two of them disappeared, leaving John to clean up the kitchen while Sebastian watched. The doctor tried a smile but he couldn’t quite look at Sebastian without imagining all the people he’d killed.
“You were in the army, yeah?” the sniper drawled.
“Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers.”
“You were stationed near me.”
John frowned, putting some cookies in a container for Meredith to take with her. “Sebastian…not Sebastian Moran?”
“That’s the one.” He smiled with something between arrogance and mischief.
“Huh. You were good.”
“Still am," he winked, "Guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Guess so.”
“It’s good having you here. I know Holmes can take care of himself alright, but Meredith needs solid people around her.”
“Because of her mother?” John looked up speculatively.
Sebastian shrugged and smiled again without answering.
“You’re fond of her.”
“Known her since before she was born.”
“God, I can’t imagine the horror of a pregnant Moriarty.”
Sebastian laughed. “It wasn’t so bad.”
John gave him a doubtful look and he chuckled.
“Alright. There were times I wished I was back in India.”
He snorted and kept putting things away. Sherlock and Meredith re-entered with her coat on. He grimly handed Sebastian the backpack.
“Let’s go, Mer.”
“See you next week, Merry.” John waved.
“Bye, Uncle John. Thanks for the baking.”
The trio walked to the front door and Sebastian stepped away to give them some privacy. Sherlock crouched and gave her a half-hearted smile.
“Don’t worry Da, I’ll be back soon.”
“Yes. Yes, you just have a good time with your Ma and I’ll see you again in a week.”
She hugged him and he kissed the top of her head before opening the door for them. Sebastian gave him a nod and took her hand. “Alright Mer, quickly now.”
Sherlock stood in the doorway until they were out of sight.
John heard the front door slam and walked out of the kitchen. “Sherlock?”
But he was already heading up the stairs.
He didn’t come down from his lab for six hours and when he did it was to grab John and announce they needed a case.
“Uh, I’ll see what Lestrade’s got.”
“Lestrade! Yes. I said I would go and see him. Let’s do that.”
“Sherlock, it’s after nine.”
He gave the ex-soldier a disappointed look. “He’s a Detective Inspector, John. He’ll be there.”
“Sorry, silly me,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll get us a cab.”
It was worse when they got to Scotland Yard and Greg actually was there, one of a handful of cops working late. Sherlock gave John a smug look.
“Oh god, don’t tell me you’ve come to report some new weird crime. I’ve got enough to deal with as it is.”
“No Lestrade, as thrilling as that would be I’ve come to tell you that from now on I can only work with you one week out of every two.”
He looked between the two men as if John would help explain this unthinkable statement. “Every what? Why?”
“I have a far more important person who requires my time. I will not be accepting your calls unless I am free.”
“Oh. Ah. Well.”
John could see how thrown the D.I. was – and a little deflated. He probably didn’t like relying on Sherlock so much but truthfully they all knew he did. “We’d explain if we could really, but believe me when I say it’s better if you don’t know.”
“Right. I suppose we’ll work around it then.”
Sherlock’s eyes lit up. “Speaking of work, what have you got for me?”
His enthusiasm seemed to slightly make up for his sudden abandonment and Greg smiled, handing over a thick manila file. “Some real puzzlers in there this week-”
“This one’s the brother,” Sherlock slapped the sheet on the desk, “This one’s the stepfather...boss...girlfriend...ooh, this one looks interesting. Come along, John.”
“We’ll see you soon I guess.” The doctor smiled at Greg, who was staring at Sherlock like he either wanted to kiss him or punch him in the face.
“Yeah. Right.”
For three days they busied themselves with Sherlock’s ‘interesting’ homicide, running themselves ragged on the London streets. When Lestrade finally clapped the handcuffs on their killer John turned to Sherlock with a huge tired smile. “That turned out better than expected.”
“Hmm.” Sherlock frowned, clenching his fist in his coat pocket.
“Shall we get dinner to celebrate?”
“Chinese will be fine.”
John gave him an odd look for the sullen reply but didn’t say anything as Lestrade waved them off. They stopped by the restaurant and got it to go, walking the rest of the way to the house. John eyed Sherlock nervously as he spread everything over the kitchen table. The detective wasn’t doing any of his usual post-case things – no gloating, no fevered explanations, no pouting and whining he was past ready for the next one. He just sat quietly at the table glaring at the opposite chair.
“Merry will be here in a few days. Have you planned out what you’re going to do?”
“I’ve set up a system for lessons, and I hope to make a few excursions each stay.”
“Maybe you could have Mrs Hudson over again, she’d probably love to see everyone.”
“Hmm.” He murmured, still looking dejected.
“Sherlock, I know you two were just getting to know each other but Meredith will be back soon, and you’ll see her on a regular basis. I miss her too but she’ll be here before you know it.”
“It is ridiculous to miss someone who’s not even a real person yet.” The other man griped.
“Sherlock…you are allowed to miss your daughter. It doesn’t make you ordinary.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”
“Emotions certainly aren’t your strong suit but I think in this case you’re on the right track.”
He nodded dourly and gave John a grateful smile.
“Hey, why don’t you call her? You’ve got Moriarty’s number.”
“You think I could?” Sherlock was still frowning but there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“Jenna called to check in when Merry was here, why shouldn’t you do the same? You’ve got equal right to.”
Sherlock hugged John hard and fast, running off to retrieve his phone. The doctor stood in the kitchen and cleared his throat roughly. Everything about this just got weirder and weirder.