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You were sitting on the ground in Jade's room. You leaned against the wall as you played with her. She kicked and rolled around in your lap, looking as snug as a bug in a rug in her feetie pajamas. She squealed in joy as you tickled her little cloth covered feet.
"MA!"
"JADE!"
"QUIET!"
You rolled your eyes. Sherlock had been downstairs in front of his wall all day. After the second body, he had gotten little sleep. No sweets shop had shown any man buying lollis on their security cameras, or any type of candy in bulk. No one could even recall a suspicious looking man going in with a child that matched the two victims.
Sherlock had established the victim population to homeless girls that looked like Jade. This pattern was extremely difficult to follow simply because no one cared.
Naturally, the first people Sherlock and John had looked for in the hopes of potential witnesses were in Sherlock's homeless network. The problem was that there was no established community. While there were small areas where several people squatted, many were mobile and followed no pattern. Most of Sherlock's time was spent running around the city, chasing down any whispers and hoping to bump into someone begging on the streets.
There was a massive map of London mounted on the wall, routes marked, areas crossed out, and question marks over possible areas of intrigue. The pictures of the girls' bodies were up, as well as the crime scenes. It was odd to see your lab among all of the case pictures. Your work was often used along with Sherlock's job, but it was never used like this.
"Ma," Jade cooed softly, snapping you out of your thoughts. She took a lock of your hair and gently ran it through her fingers.
You pinched her round cheek as she continued to play with your hair. She had gone quiet and there was a focus in her crystal blue eyes that you did not know babies her age were capable of.
"I'm so glad you got your dad's eyes that must have come out of Middle Earth instead of my trashy ones," you laughed.
"You know, I've been called a lot of things, most of them not quite tasteful, but I have never been compared to an elf or whatever else is in Lord of the Rings." You looked up to see Sherlock leaning against the door frame. Although he looked exhausted, the corner of his mouth was slightly quirked up.
"DECTDA!" Jade yelled, opening her arms.
Sherlock had to smile at that. He came in and heavily sat down next to you with a large and agonized groan. Jade quickly ditched you like a hot potato and crawled into his lap."Dectda," she affirmed, patting his chest.
Sherlock looked down at her grumpily. "Yes, well, dectda isn't dectda-ing quite well. So I hope you like eating rubbish because we'll be forced to live on the streets," he said dryly. "We might have to use you as a pity card, so you will be of some use." Sherlock picked her up and gave her a hug. His brow furrowed. "You know, we could get a dog. Between you and a dog I think we could make it. It would also be much easier to take care of."
"Sherlock, shut up," you said.
"Hey!" Sherlock said, "Don't say such things around a young child. What is wrong with you? Honestly."
You dismissed him with a wave of your hand. "Oh, come off it. The things you've said in front of her are going to make her the problem child in grade school."
Sherlock turned back to Jade and stood her up. With a small smile he said, "Good." He set her back down on his lap, where she was more than happy to be.
"So," you began, looking quite puzzled, "why are you here?"
Sherlock's jaw set and the playfulness left his eyes. Staring ahead, he mumbled, "I can't do it."
"You can't do what?" you said softly, shuffling closer to him.
He took a deep breath. It was clear that it took everything in him to say the next words. "I cannot solve the case," he finally admitted in a low voice. "It's too...personal."
There was a heavy silence before you answered, "You know that you haven't solved all of the cases that have been brought to you. You're only human Sherlock." you wrapped an arm around his waist and placed your head on his shoulder. "There's that silly sounding proverb that 'says you win some, you lose some,' and it's true. Plus, the case is still young and you might just be tired. Try stepping back for a day and look at it with a fresh pair of eyes."
Sherlock looked over at you with a tilted head and a raised eyebrow. "You know, you're quite clever for an average person."
"And you are quite a dick for someone who is supposed to love me," you quipped, nudging his shoulder.
"Sherlock Holmes."
Both of you cut the banter and whipped your heads around to Jade. She was still sitting on Sherlock's lap, but now gazing up at him. She placed a hand on his cheek. "Sherlock Holmes."
Sherlock was slightly slack jawed and blinked a few times before he was able to respond. "Yes, Jade..." he looked over at you for help.
Just as stunned as Sherlock, you gave it a go. "'Sherlock' is one name, 'dectda' is...for Jade."
Jade put her other hand on Sherlock's other cheek. "Dectda Sherlock."
You shook your head. "There is no way she could pronounce a name like 'Sherlock Holmes' at this stage of her life. I love you, but your name is weird as hell. When were you born, 1854?"
Sherlock gave you his best glare. "Oh, why thank you," he said passive aggressively. He turned Jade around so the she was facing him. "Unfortunately, you are right. The only possible way she could say my name would be through rigorous practice and none of us have sat down for days and taught her," Sherlock reasoned.
You ran a hand through your hair. "Maybe she just picked it up and learned it on her own? She is your daughter and I hate to stroke your ego, but you are very high up in the intelligence department."
Sherlock was quiet for a moment, searching his daughter's eyes as if she could reveal the answer to her secret. "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," he concluded quietly.
"Oh, Jesus," you blurted as you looked at your watch. "this nugget has to go to bed." you stood up and picked Jade up (to her absolute fury). Her face twisted into pure agony and flushed a bright red. She began to scream. "Oh my god! Okay!" Sherlock had gotten to his feet and you passed Jade over like a hot potato. As soon as his fingertips touched her, she started smiling.
"I believe," Sherlock said haughtily as he brought her to his chest, "that she clearly has a favorite."
"DECTDA!" Jade shrieked before she slapped him as hard as her little hand could, which surprisingly looked pretty hard because Sherlock winced.
He turned to her. "What are you doing?" he asked he seriously, "You can't go around just randomly hitting people. You'll certainly want to, but you can't. I'll teach you what kind of people you're allowed to hit and in what scenarios." he frowned in thought. "I can actually start tomorrow, but I'm both your father and fantastic, so you can never hit me."
Jade gently stroked his cheek.
Sherlock nodded his head. "Lovely." he turned to you. "Parenting," he said smugly.
You crossed your arms. "I noticed you didn't include me in the 'do not hit' category.
Recognizing he was going to be in the doghouse, Sherlock immediately refocused on Jade and the words came pouring out of him, "And we don't hit mum because she'll probably hit you back."
"Oh my god, how dare you!" you whacked him upside the head.
"See? An absolute lunatic," Sherlock said dryly, rubbing his head and placing Jade in her crib. He was about to make a snarky retort when he froze. "I'm an idiot," he said quietly."
"Well, yeah..." you agreed.
Sherlock shook his head. "No, not being funny. It's about the case. We have missed a step because of my sentiment!" He clapped his hands together before he ran out of the room with no further explanation.
Shrugging it off and knowing he'll explain it to you later, you put your baby girl to bed. You stroked her small cheek. "You're a perfect specimen. Do you know that's what your dad said? He referred to you as a 'specimen.'" you smiled at the memory. "He loves you so much. Do you know he actually doesn't even like people? He loves you," you poked her stomach, "and me," you touched your chest and kissed her forehead, "so count yourself as pretty special."
Making sure Jade was on her back, you switched on her baby monitor and checked her swaddling. You were a happy mom.
"Goodnight," you whispered before switching off the light.
~*~
Our killer casually ate a late dinner at Speedy's. The staff tried several times to kick him out because it was past closing time, but the flash of a gun seemed to change their attitudes dramatically. Plus, he got to eat all the sandwiches he wanted. His eyes narrowed when he saw Sherlock Holmes and John Watson burst out of 221B and hail a cab. He reached into his pocket and got out his phone. After punching in the desired number, he put it to his ear.
"Hey," he said gruffly after a few rings, "it's me. Our two assholes are on the move. I don't know where or why, but they were sure in a hurry. This part of the plan?" he tried to get the sandwich bits stuck between his teeth loose with his tongue as he listened. "Yeah? Well, okay," he said skeptically before shoving his phone back into his coat.
~*~
Baby monitors were a stupid invention, really. One: if a baby has a problem it would cry and you'd hear it anyway. Two: babies are fucking stupid. Three: you would have to be a goddamn moron to have one. Granted, they are a necessity to sustain the human population, but having one for pleasure?
No way Jose.
Four: a baby monitor is connected to a home's network cable. You know what else is?
The internet.
Five: See, the internet is basically the extension of all the network-cable devices beyond basic computer services. So these little devices that are supposed to keep your babies safe at night can be hacked and "stranger danger" is thrown right out the window.
Baby monitors and those who use them are completely, undeniably, and disgustingly stupid. The idea that Sherlock Holmes was in some way a moron was a hard fact to face. Should it be disappointing or exciting? Will things proceed as predicted?
Whatever. No time like the present.
Eyes scanning an extensive book collection, a rather old one was taken from its shelf. A smile and a nod of the head. This was a good one.
A crack of the knuckles, a roll up of the sleeves, and everything was as it should be. With a lick of the fingers, the right page was found. Tapping the microphone, the show was on.
"So, Jade. I thought we'd do something a little different today. Are you a fan of bedtime stories?" a pause. "Ah, that's right. You're too small and stupid to talk. Anywaaaay," the word was sung,"we're going to have a bedtime story. I haven't heard mum and dad give you a single one since we started these pop-ins and frankly..." a hand held up in the air, "it's disgusting." a clear of the throat. "Now, this one is one is a classic, like...classic." eyes were widened and a chair was leaned back in. "It's called 'Cinderella,' and I am going to read you the original, which is just fucked up.
Okay, let's begin."
A fairytale couldn't possibly be told any better than the reading Jade experienced. If it were a perfect world, all stories would be told with the same zest and passion as this recitation. Jade listened happily in her crib, absorbed by the new sounds.
"Ohhhhhh," A flinch. "it gets kinda bad here. But...it's kinda my favorite part:
'"No one shall be my wife except for the one whose foot fits this golden shoe."
The two sisters were happy to hear this, for they had pretty feet. With her mother standing by, the older one took the shoe into her bedroom to try it on. She could not get her big toe into it, for the shoe was too small for her. Then her mother gave her a knife and said, "Cut off your toe. When you are queen you will no longer have to go on foot."
The girl cut off her toe, forced her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the prince. He took her on his horse as his bride and rode away with her. However, they had to ride past the grave, and there, on the hazel tree, sat the two pigeons, crying out:
Rook di goo, rook di goo!
There's blood in the shoe.
The shoe is too tight,
This bride is not right!
Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was running from it. He turned his horse around and took the false bride home again, saying that she was not the right one, and that the other sister should try on the shoe. She went into her bedroom, and got her toes into the shoe all right, but her heel was too large.
Then her mother gave her a knife, and said, "Cut a piece off your heel. When you are queen you will no longer have to go on foot."
The girl cut a piece off her heel, forced her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the prince. He took her on his horse as his bride and rode away with her. When they passed the hazel tree, the two pigeons were sitting in it, and they cried out:
Rook di goo, rook di goo!
There's blood in the shoe.
The shoe is too tight,
This bride is not right!
He looked down at her foot and saw how the blood was running out of her shoe, and how it had stained her white stocking all red. Then he turned his horse around and took the false bride home again.'
"This is not the right one, either," he said. "Don't you have another daughter?"
"No," said the man. "There is only a deformed little Cinderella from my first wife, but she cannot possibly be the bride."
The prince told him to send her to him, but the mother answered, "Oh, no, she is much too dirty. She cannot be seen."
But the prince insisted on it, and they had to call Cinderella. She first washed her hands and face clean, and then went and bowed down before the prince, who gave her the golden shoe. She sat down on a stool, pulled her foot out of the heavy wooden shoe, and put it into the slipper, and it fitted her perfectly.'"
A drawn out whistle. "Isn't that great?" A chuckle. "Disney completely slaughtered it, and not in a good way." A smirk. "It's a little different from 'bibbity bobbity BOO!" Yelled. Fists slamming the table.
A baby crying.