since sherlock holmes is public domain legally im allowed to make a version where sherlock is a spunky teenager who has a flare for the dramatic and watson is a grumpy middle-aged divorcee just trying his best to keep this reckless sleuth wannabe out of trouble and he may-or-may not be her father figure but neither of them will ever admit that
I don’t really believe you exist. I know that Mummy and Daddy buy our Christmas gifts, and every time I stayed up to wait for you you didn’t come. But on the other hand, I haven’t yet found reliable evidence that you don’t exist, so I thought I’d give this a try. One of the boys in my House wrote to you last year and asked for a Game Boy despite his parents refusing to buy him one, and yet he got one for Christmas. So perhaps it was you, after all. Also, I’m running out of options, so I thought I might attempt this as well. I hope I’m not too old already.
I’d really like to have a proper friend. I’ve tried all the usual ways of getting one, but it just doesn’t work. The other boys hate me. They call me names and talk about me behind my back. I’m always chosen last for sports teams, even though I’m not that bad at sports. Sometimes, they hide my things or even break them. They’re just so nasty and boring and spoilt and ordinary.
So, I hope you can help me, in case you do exist. I don’t care what the friend looks like. I only want him to not be boring, and to not call me Freak or tell me to piss off or other such things. That’s all.
PS: There’s also this Leica Microscope I really like …
Baker Street, London, 7th January 2017
Dear Father Christmas,
this thank you note is long overdue – although your gift did take a long time to get here. And even after he had arrived, at first I didn’t recognise him for what he was. But now I do. So thank you for this most brilliant of gifts. I didn’t just receive a friend, but a conductor of light.
PS: Now, about that microscope ... I’d still like to have the Leica one, if possible.
He’s read every book he could get his hands on, watched an assortment of documentaries and youtube videos, and consulted with John no less than thirty times before the baby comes along. He absolutely thinks he is ready to be a dad by the time it happens.
He is not.
Is not prepared at all.
Why are they crying?
Why are they throwing everything?
W h a t is going on??
What do you mean they cry just for attention? You mean he has to hold them how often?!
On the plus side waking up in the middle of the night for a crying baby is not an issue at all. Sherlock already has a wacked up sleep schedule so it’s likely he’ll still be up when the baby starts crying.
He’ll be a little overwhelmed at first, and cite books he’s read over and over. He won’t trust in your instincts right away (but he’ll learn quick when you’re the one who calms the baby down).
He will not do baby talk.
He will not hide his experiments (but he’ll keep the dangerous stuff away for obvious reasons).
He will definitely show the kiddo decapitated nuns when you’re not looking.
He’s not one for censorship. Never will be. He encourages for his children / kiddo to learn everything possible and he won’t hide anything from them.
That being said he’s super wary of other children. What if they call his baby a freak? You’ll have to be there to reassure him that everything will be okay.
(You’ll probably have to reassure him semi-frequently that he’s a good dad, because Sherlock will have his moments of doubts and heaven forbid that child ever says that s/he hates Sherlock because oh that’s gonna hurt).
(Also if someone does bully your baby Sherlock will absolutely seek retribution / justice. Even if it’s another child because that’s his baby).
Sherlock does not handle puberty well at all.
Be prepared for lots of arguments between the two, and dealing with two sulky people in the home.
(But they’ll both love you so much)
First dates / kisses / sex / etc will make Sherlock uncomfortable and he’ll probably scare off the first few attempts with his blunt attitude. He’ll definitely do some background checks, too.
Bi, straight, gay, asexual… none of that matters to him.
School isn’t that important to Sherlock. He won’t be the one to encourage his children to finish school if they have something else they want to do. Sherlock is all for letting them do as they please when it comes to their dreams / jobs / professions. As long as they’re happy.
That being said if it’s dangerous then he’ll get antsy and keep tabs on them.
(Although you know John’s gonna make sure this kiddo knows how to defend him/herself)
He’ll be proud at whatever it is they do, because they’re his kids.
(but if they become a detective like him then he’s a giddy, giddy boy)
He’ll stumble a bit as a father (especially during hormonal times like angsty teens), but he’ll sincerely love ‘em and want their happiness.
He hopes they like him, too.
Headcanons for Mycroft being a father
He’ll have a nanny for the kiddo. With his job being the way it is, he knows it’ll be hard on you to raise a kiddo (mostly) by yourself, so he’ll insist on hiring a nanny to at least help out.
(If you’re adamant about no nannies, he’ll comply, but please be prepared for the fact that Mycroft can only make so much time to spend at home).
He’s borderline over-prepared for the baby. He’s got doubles of everything in case something happens, has memorized every baby book he could find, and already has a list of professional tutors and doctors on standby. His kiddo is going to have everything s/he could ever need/want.
(To be honest he’s a little scared at being a dad because he struggles to simply act normal, and deal with other humans. You’re the exception, not the rule, and he’s worried he’ll estrange his own child. Please comfort and encourage him, because of course this man will be a good father)
Mycroft is a firm believer in a structured environment. That means getting his bundle of joy on a schedule as soon as possible (this is also so that way Mycroft can work his schedule around his child’s schedule so he can spend more time with him/her).
Lots of reading, and no T.V.
He’s a bit awkward with physical affection. He knows how to hold his baby, but he’s terrible at playing with him/her.
This kiddo is going to grow up fast. Lots of education right away and it probably won’t come as a surprise that they end up graduating early due to the environment.
Mycroft will be a very proud dad.
He will absolutely show up to as many meets / plays / games / club / tournaments / whatever they’re into as he can. And if he can’t then he’ll have you record it so he can watch it later and discuss with him/her. He’s all for extracurricular activities and wants to have an active role in his child’s life.
Will not tolerate drug abuse. Any signs of it and they’ll be immediately sent off to a high end rehabilitation program. One of Mycroft’s biggest regrets is not stopping Sherlock before it got out of hand and he will not let that happen to his child.
Mycroft will deal very poorly with teenage rebellion. It’ll put a strain on their relationship, no matter what you do, unfortunately. Mycroft will very likely treat his child like another Sherlock in this case, and be snarky.
He’ll still love ‘em regardless, but he’s done dealing with that kind of stuff and has zero patience left.
He’ll make sure his child can have their dream job, but he’ll be a lot more supportive of financially secure jobs, or more intelligent jobs, than other more unstable things.
(Please don’t be a detective like Uncle Sherlock. Mycroft will lose his mind and very well may strangle his brother)
First dates / kisses / sex / etc will give Mycroft mild anxiety attacks. They better have the most pristine backgrounds and if he suspects for a second his kid is in danger then he’ll send in the calvary.
Sexuality won’t matter in the slightest bit to him.
He may be a bit more controlling than others when it comes to his kid’s life, but he sincerely only wants what’s best for them. Sometimes he’ll have a hard time seeing that maybe his son/daughter knows what’s best for him/herself, and he’ll need your help with that.
Headcanons for Moriarty as a father
One word: Spoiled.
Moriarty is an eccentric parent. He’s the kind of parent that will feed a baby pop rocks to see what would happen.
His children will always get what they want, provided they obey him and aren’t a hassle.
His child will be dubbed as Mini-Me.
He’s got matching outfits. Moriarty will totally wear a dress (and rock it) if he has to in order match outfits with his child.
That baby is his Mini-Me and he LOVES IT.
He will educate his children personally when it comes to music, and he’ll encourage pyromania.
This kiddo is gonna grow up with private tutors, bodyguards, and an assortment of materialistic items.
You’ll have to make sure s/he receives lots of love and discipline so they don’t grow up dissociated, or disillusioned.
Frankly you’ll have to reign Moriarty in at times, too. He can get carried away when it comes to his Mini-Me. His parents were never around, so he wants to make sure his kid is constantly involved in his life. He’ll be quick with the physical affection, and will love Even bringing him/her into the criminal enterprise ASAP. Like when s/he’s ten s/he’s probably already been introduced to mafia bosses.
(He’ll be persuaded out of this if you’re adamant enough, but you’ll have to really dig your shoes in.)
He will l o v e his Mini-Me, though. He wants his kiddo to live a happy and fulfilling life. He doesn’t want them to be bored easily like him, or wake up and discover the world’s nothing but gray. He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen.
Super protective dad. First dates have an honest chance of getting sniped.
This kid can be whatever s/he wants to be. Moriarty does not give a hoot, so long as they’re happy, healthy, and always call him Best Dad In The World.
All the dad jokes.
A L L the pranks. He lives for pranking his kiddo.
So when you tell him, he just responds with ‘I know’
Sherlock would never be able to leave you alone.
He wouldn’t be able to stop fussing over you.
He’ll fuss about all different things; what you’re eating, what you’re doing, how you’re sitting or sleeping. He’s just constantly making sure that the baby will be okay.
Doing as much research about pregnancy and parenting as he can.
He wants to make sure that both you and the baby will be okay.
His constant fussing would get on your nerves but in the end, you know that it’s only worry over you and the baby.
Sherlock will actually make you teas and do you favours.
This blows both you and John away.
Strictly no involvement in cases while you’re pregnant. He doesn’t want to take the slightest risk in yours and the baby’s safety.
Quick kisses on your nose when it’s just the two of you.
Sherlock saying that talking to the baby while it’s in the belly is useless. However, one night when he thinks you’re sleeping, you catch him speaking to the baby.
“Hi… baby. I’m your father. I know that this whole thing is pointless but I guess I just wanted to let you know that I love you. It’s hard for me to say that sometimes but I really do love you and can’t wait to meet you.”
Secretly smiling to yourself when you listen to him say it.
Sherlock and you discussing whether or not you should call the baby John if it’s a boy.
Belly kisses when Sherlock finds himself in a really good mood.
Lestrade coming to visit you sometimes and not being able to stop joking about what a baby Sherlock will be like.
Jokes about Sherlock being a father become pretty popular with John, Mary, Lestrade and Mrs Hudson. Everyone besides Sherlock finds them hilarious.
Sherlock stressing out when you finally go into labour.
John doing his best to calm him down.
When Sherlock finally holds the baby for the first time, he feels like his entire world now revolves around the little bundle of blankets in his hands.
Sherlock and you being so proud of the amazing little person you’ve created.
Mycroft x Daughter!Reader + Uncel!Sherlock - Special Family Reunion
A/N: This took me forever. It has some dialogues and situations from the final problem but I changed it to fit the story better.
Request came from anon
Thanks to my beta reader @true-queen-of-mischief
Requests are open
Masterlist of 2017
GIF IS NOT MINE!
Word Count: 2.970 (I regret nothing)
Confusion was written all over your face as Anthea walked into your class, demanding that you had to leave school. Your teacher was just as confused as you but as the young woman handed him a piece of paper he nodded and you grabbed your stuff to follow the assistant of your father.
In the car, you sat beside her. Her eyes were darted to the front while you looked at her, trying to get some sort of information out.
“Tell me what is happening, Anthea, please.” You begged after minutes of silence but she didn’t respond to you.
Giving up your questioning, you looked out the window. “Why are we driving to Baker Street?” you suddenly asked as you realized where you two were driving to. You hadn’t visited your Uncle in quite some time and that is exactly what surprised you.
As you two arrived at Baker Street, you immediately walked out of the car. Anthea close behind you calling your name and demanding to stay by her. But before you could open the old, dark wooden door with the golden numbers on it, a loud explosion caused you to fall to the ground while Anthea ran up to you, trying to cover you.
You could make out some screaming and an ambulance in the distance. Your vision was blurry and your ears were ringing. Luckily, Anthea nor you were hurt badly. Only a few scratches here and there.
On the ground you could make out two figures. It was your Uncle and his friend. As fast as you could you stood up from the dirty ground, running up to both men who groaned in pain.
“Uncle Sherlock! John.” You shouted at them as you made your way them. Both got up slowly and looked around. John was the first one to notice you.
“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” he asked while Sherlock rubbed the dirt from his shirt.
You shrugged your shoulders and kept your now messy (Y/H/C) ponytail out of your face. “I don’t know. Anthea picked me up from class and we drove here. Then everything just exploded.” You explained to him and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
“I told him it was a bad Idea.” He mumbled and you tilted your head at him. Did that mean your father was in the flat as well?
“Where is father?” you asked them both and they looked each other and then back to the flat. The door opened and an all dirtied Mycroft walked out together with a shocked Mrs. Hudson in his arms.
You were relieved to see that he was alright. His gaze landed on you. “(Y/N), are you alright?” he asked and cough a bit and you nodded tears brimming the edge of your eyes.
In the hospital were everyone was checked up on, your Uncle and father told you everything that had happened in the flat. That you had an Aunt locked up, because of her psychotic and smart mind, after she set fire to their old home. How a drone with a bomb was set on the flat and 221 b Baker Street blew up.
“So, what are we going to do?” you asked your father, your Uncle giving you a smile because of how energetic you were, while your father looked at you with a serious look on his face.
“You, young Lady, you go back home with Anthea and stay there.” He demanded and you scoffed, shaking your head.
“Yeah, of course, you tugged me out of class and brought me to Baker Street only to go home again? Sorry, father, but this won’t happen.” You crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly.
“You are just like your mother.” He mumbled under his breath as he pinched his nose with his thumb and index finger.
“Oh, come on Brother.” Sherlock said a tad bit too sweetly. “We could use a smart mind on this.” He looked at you with a mischief smile.
Your uncle might be as cold as a rock but deep down, you knew, he was just like a child. While your father supported you on important tasks like school, Sherlock supported you in the things you enjoyed doing. The typical fun uncle.
Mycroft huffed as he grabbed his umbrella. “Alright. But you do as I tell you, do I made myself clear, (Y/N)?” he looked at you his dark eyes boring into your (Y/E/C) ones and you nodded at him with a smile, kissing his cheek and hugging your uncle shortly. John and you exchanged a smile.
Right now, you sat together with John and your father in the security room. A simple makeover of your father and it was easy to get him out of the hospital and onto the boat that your uncle had pirated. The Governor showed you three the tapes of Eurus threptic sessions and you were impressed.
She really had an ability to manipulate people’s minds. You noticed John frown as he took a glance at the Governor while the Tape played in the background. Mycroft took your hand and in a split second all three of you reached for the door to escape.
Eurus knew you would be coming. She manipulated everyone on this island. You were trapped like rats. The alarm went off and the Governor gazed up you with an apologetic look. “I am sorry.” He whispered as three guards walked in and dragged all three of you out.
After that you were knocked out and everything turned blank.
As you woke up you found yourself in a game of pure horror and fear. A game Eurus wanted to play with her family. A game that meant live or die.
No matter how hard you all worked on the puzzles people died and died. It didn’t stop. Men were drowned in the sea even when Sherlock found out who the murder actually was. Luckily Molly survived but Eurus played with all of you. All your feelings boiled up.
In your uncle it grew as anger, John tried to stay calm and collected but fear stroke his every being. Your father stood strong, showing you not be afraid but deep down you could feel that he felt the guilt eating up on him.
And you? You felt as if you could be drowned any moment. Not able to take a quick breath. You couldn’t control your body anymore, it was shaking like leaves in the autumn wind.
It sapped your energy and you didn’t leave your father’s side anymore, always clinging onto him. It reminded you of old times. Your six-year-old self, clinging onto your father’s leg while you two walked down the Streets of London.
These thoughts kept you going further.
“(Y/N)? (Y/N) wake up.” Your shoulder was being shaken by someone as you opened your eyes and groaned in pain. As you opened your eyes you could see John in front of you, eyeing you carefully while your father stood right behind him.
Holding your head, you looked up at him. “What happened?” you asked trying to get up with the help of the ex-army Doctor.
You, your father, your Uncle and John were in a cell together with the head of security. The voice of a little girl sounded in the cell. She said something about an airplane and everyone being asleep. It confused you, the girl didn’t sound as scared as she should be.
But before anything else could be found out, the connection broke and Eurus could be seen from a TV that they had in the cell.
“Let’s play a game. If you want to be reconnected to the girl you have to choose, Sherlock.” Her eyes never left her brother’s and the smile didn’t falter.
“I want you to choose. Kill your best friend John Watson” she pointed to John. “Or our big brother.” She turned to Mycroft and your heart stopped for a moment.
Carefully you took your Father’s hand in yours, scared that he might be gone, way too soon. Without looking at you, he squeezed your hand for comfort.
Mycroft shook his head. “I am sorry, Doctor.” John looked up at your Father and Sherlock did the same.
“Excuse me, what?” John asked as he got closer, while Eurus watched in delight at the scenes before her.
“Well, it is all about Sherlock and me. I am sorry Doctor but your journey end here.” He said and Sherlock who held the gun in hand gazed at his brother shocked.
“Shoot him, already.” Your father yelled, still holding your hand. But you shook your head.
“It is only us now Sherlock. You and me.” Loosening the grip of the hand of your father, you stood before him.
“Don’t make him choose. John is part of this family as well. This is not fair.” You shouted at him. Eurus laughed in the background.
John grabbed your shoulder and stopped you. “(Y/N), it is alright. Your Father is right.” Tears started to fall from your face and Sherlock looked to the ground.
You didn’t know when everything had turned out this bad, but when your Father started to talk bad about Sherlock and John it didn’t make things easier.
“Stop it, already. Stop lying in front of your daughter.” Confused, you and John turned to Sherlock as he gazed up again.
“He just tries to make it easier for me to shoot him.” He explained to both of you. Grabbing your father’s shoulders, your eyes met with his.
“Are you crazy?!” you shouted at him, the tears freely falling down your cheeks. But he pushed you away back to John who got a hold of you, before you could crumble to the ground, as your uncle lifted the gun and pointed it at his brother.
“But not the brain. That’s for the science department.” Sherlock scoffed a bit at him.
“So, what would suit you best?” he asked still holding the gun up. While your father corrected his tie he looked into his brothers eyes.
“Well,” he said not showing any sign of regret at his decision. “I suppose there is a heart somewhere inside me. Why don’t we try that?” for a split-second Sherlock smiled at his brothers reaction and answer.
While you stood there not knowing how to stopped this madness, John approached them both, standing in between them. Trying to get to a more human-like solution.
“This is my fault.” Your father said. “Moriarty.” The name made the room seem even more colder than it actually was.
“Moriarty?” Sherlock whispered under his breath.
“A Christmas treat. She had a conversation with Jim Moriarty, five years ago.” Slowly, Sherlock lowered the gun down a bit, eying his brother carefully.
“What did they discuss?” Sherlock asked his voice was serious and you knew, in less than a minute, everything would turn around.
“They had a conversation. Unsupervised.” You could see by the way he said it, he regretted what he did while John turned away not believing what your father had done.
Once again, Sherlock rose the gun to your fathers torso. You hold back a cry, shaking like mad.
“Goodbye, brother mine.” Your father said. “No, flowers. My request.”
The lights turned red for a moment as Eurus started to talk again. “Jim Moriarty knew, you would choose him. He was so excited.” Again the lights turned red and instead of Eurus you faced the one and only Moriarty.
“Here we are. At the end of the line. Holmes killing Holmes.” You couldn’t hold back your sobs anymore.
“This is where I get off.” Moriarty showed a smile like he would enjoy it even when he was no longer alive.
“5 minutes.” Sherlock gritted through his teeth. “5 minutes. You did all of this to us.” He looked at John and then his gaze landed on you, still crying while you kneeled on the ground shaking.
But Sherlock lowered his gun. Everyone looked at him confused. Mycroft, John, you. Even Eurus was not getting what her brother was doing as he pointed the gun at himself.
“10, 9” he started to count down and Eurus shook her head.
“No, No. Sherlock, No.”
“You don’t know about Redbeard, yet.”
“4, 3” Suddenly you felt a stinging pain at the back of your head. And as you grabbed whatever hit you, you felt dizzy all of a sudden.
With a thud you landed on the floor like the rest of your family.
You woke up in a dark room. It was nighttime by now. The ground was dirty and the cold hair clung on your body. Getting up from the ground you realized you were all alone.
“Father? Sherlock? John?” you shouted into the night, but you didn’t receive a reply.
The fear grew in your body, as you shook uncontrollably. Where is everyone? Are they alright? Are they even still alive?
All those questions surrounded your head as tears flowed out of your eyes. You cursed yourself for demanding to go with them.
“My poor little niece.” The voice of Eurus sounded in the room. You craned your neck to look around, trying to find the source of the voice.
“Eurus.” You whispered silently into the night. But you didn’t get a response from her.
“Eurus, please stop this.” You whimpered, rocking yourself. “This is our family.” You cried out holding your knees close to your chest.
“You mean the family that left me on this island?!” Eurus didn’t sound angry. She sounded broken.
“Eurus, listen. I know you feel left alone, but you are not. We all came here just for you.” You explained into the darkness. For a few seconds everything was silent.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” In her voice you could make out that you hit a mark and so you continued.
“You are still family to us. The only thing you need is someone who listens. I know it because we are alike. Most of the time I am by myself, too.” Now standing on your shaking feet you walked around the room. It looked burned down, but you could make out some papers with child drawings on them.
“Liar.” Eurus whispered and you shook your head hoping she could see your actions.
“Just tell me if the others are alright.” No response. “Eurus?” you asked into the night but nothing came.
Maybe you should find out where you actually were right now. From the broken window you could make out nothing but fields and trees. An abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. Wonderful.
The silence was breaking as you could make out faint footsteps. Listening closely, you could make out that they were too heavy to be John and too light to be the ones of your father: Sherlock.
“Sherlock!” you shouted hoping he heard you. Moments later the locked door was laying on the ground and your uncle stood there out of breath. “(Y/N)!” he said and walked up to you.
“Where is father?” you asked him worriedly. Sherlock shook his head.
“I am not sure. But I am close to solving it. Just…Just try to contact Lestrade. Go downstairs and walk out of this house. Away from it, as far as you can. Alright?” you nod at him.
“Please, save my father.” You whispered to him as you walked down the stairs and out of the half burned down house.
And as your Uncle had asked you to, you called Lestrade. It took them awhile to find you but while you waited John and Sherlock walked up to you. Completely wet but unharmed.
Paramedics attend to all of you, but still there was this nagging feeling. Where was your Father?
Looking around making the young paramedic nearly go crazy, you tried to find him. “Where is my Father?” you asked Lestrade as he walked by to check on you.
“I uhm…I think he is brought to the hospital.” They answered. You stood up not caring that the young paramedic shouted for you to come back.
You run up to another transporter as they wanted to close the doors. “Hold up.” You shouted at them. They looked up at you surprised.
“I am Mycroft Holmes’ daughter.” You said to them and they held the door open for you. Walking in, you saw your father lying there with a oxygen mask around his face.
“Thank God, you are alive.” You breathed out relieved, as you took his hand in your own. The dark eyes of his bored into yours.
“Well, I think I deserve a cake after all of this.” He muttered under the mask, making you shake your head.
“You are the one who’s wounded the most and all you can think of is cake?” you asked in disbelief but still with a smile on your face.
A little smile adorned his lips as well. “Only so that I can see you smile again.” You hold his hand tightly as the paramedic took off to bring your father into the next hospital.
Time went by fast and your father was released from the hospital, a week after the incident.
Eurus invited all of you, including your grandparents, to come visit her. You weren’t sure of it but your grandparents demanded to see their daughter after believing she was dead.
So, now you were sitting with your grandparents while Sherlock and Eurus played a wonderful violin duet. Both smiled at each other and you realized at how odd and special your family truly was.
The British government as your father, a high functional sociopath as your uncle, a completely insane aunt and your loveable grandparents.
This is a special family reunion for a very special family.
Welcome to the Holmes Family.
Imagine being Mycroft’s child and being just as intelligent as he is.
“I will never understand your fascination with these ‘activities,’” you could hear the eye-roll in your father’s voice.
“It’s called watching a movie, dad, they’re all the rage these days,” you shot him a look, the sarcasm dripping from your words.
“They’re not accurate whatsoever,” he complained, his lip pulled back in disdain.
“They’re not supposed to be,” you argued. “They’re a form of escapism. There’s something called ‘suspension of disbelief,’ I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”
“Just because I’ve heard of something doesn’t mean I agree with or practice it.”
“You don’t have to watch the movie if you aren’t enjoying it. I’d rather not listen to you complain through the whole thing,” you crossed your arms and glowered at your father across from you on the couch. That seemed to shut him up, for a few minutes at least. Until...
“That is completely unrealistic!”
“They’re superheroes on an alien planet trying to fight an alien with magic stones. There’s a talking tree, a raccoon obsessed with weapons and a literal god of thunder. I told you it’s not supposed to be realistic. It’s supposed to be fun.”
“I suppose a high intelligence doesn’t necessarily include good taste.”
“Hey, I’m the kid here, I’m supposed to be the one doing the insulting. So either shut up and watch the movie or go sulk somewhere else.”
“Please, Papa.” you begged your father, your hands clasped together and a pout on your face. Said man sighed and rubbed the bridge of nose with his thumb and pointer finger.
“(Y/N), you know very well that your Uncle has a tendency to bring himself in danger? I can’t let that happen to you.” with a frustrated sigh you rolled your eyes at him.
“I can take care of myself, besides Dr. Watson is there, too, so Uncle Sherlock won’t do anything too stupid. Pretty please.” you begged again hoping to finally break your father.
Mycroft Holmes was a ice cold man. Not relying on any feelings, but when it comes to his daughter, you, he had a hard time not to feel any kind of overprotectiveness.
“Only for today and I will pick you up at Seven.” a squeal made Mycroft jump a bit from his chair as your arms wrapped around him continuing with many thank you’s into his ear.
Kissing his cheek, you let go of him, a wide grin on your face.
“See you later,” and with that last goodbye, you were out of his office, saying farewell to his assistant Athena on your way down to the entrance.
Giggling like a madwoman, you stepped out into the fresh air. At the entrance stood your Uncle, Sherlock Holmes the very first consulting detective, tipping away on his phone.
“Who are you texting?” you asked him and quickly he put away his phone into his coat pocket.
A grin played onto your lips.
“Your girlfriend?” your uncle rose an unimpressed eyebrow at that as you giggled again. He never understood the moods of teenagers, especially those from his own niece.
“Do you want to join me on the case or not?” he questioned back and immediately you stopped giggling, going into a serious mode.
“What do we do first?” you asked him as you both called for a cab. As one of the black cars stopped in front of you, you both stepped in as your Uncle explained you everything you needed to know for this case.
He was kind of thrilled to have someone interested in the things he said and did, unlike his brother or John who doesn’t understand half of the things Sherlock explained to him.
“I had never thought that it was the Son.” you said as you and your Uncle entered his flat at Baker Street.
“I mean, he was not much older than I am.” stepping into the flat you were greeted by chaos, typical for your Uncle.
Sherlock turned to you a tiny smile at the corners of his lips.
“There you can see that everyone is capable of a murder. Even you, but I am sure that you would’ve done it better.” He turned to you but stopped as he saw you passed out on his sofa.
Maybe he shouldn’t have let you take down the murder. It was a bit too much he had asked of you. Not really caring that much about it, he sat down in his own armchair.
Punctual as ever, Mycroft stood at his brother’s flat door at 7 O’clock straight. With a light knock, he entered. He was greeted by the typical chaos, Sherlock in his armchair and you passed out on the sofa.
“What have you done to her Sherlock?!” Mycroft asked his brother as he walked to his daughter, examining her for any injuries.
Opening one eye, Sherlock watched his older brother for a moment before he closed his eye again.
“We had a little run in the end. For half the day we walked around London, but I am sure she handled that one pretty well.”
Clenching his hands into fists, Mycroft turned to Sherlock.
“I told you to look after her!” his voice boomed a bit too loudly. Sherlock sighed and opened his eyes to get a better look on his brother.
“And I did. She was great help if I may add. (Y/N) has a talent, but she is exhausted. Maybe the school was a bit tiring for her.” the older Holmes looked to the ground trying to calm himself down.
“You are here already?” a sleepy voice came from the other side of the room. Both Holmes Brothers turned around to look at you.
You sat upright on the sofa rubbing your (Y/E/C) eyes, stifling a yawn. With a happy smile you looked up at your father.
“This was the best day of my life, Father. I learned so much and I even caught the murderer.” Sherlock signaled to her to shut her mouth at that, but it was too late and Mycroft sent daggers at his little brother.
“You let her near the murderer?!”
“As if I can stop her if she wants something.” Sherlock retorted back and made Mycroft fell into silence. For that one moment Sherlock was right, but he would never admit that.
“For God’s Sake she is only 14.” he hissed at his little brother before he turned to his daughter.
“Don’t be mad at Uncle Sherlock. He did everything he could do to get my as far away from danger as he could. This is why I am so exhausted. All this research made me tired. Just let’s go home.” again you stifled a yawn and Mycroft couldn’t be mad at either you nor his brother anymore.
He sighed and guided you to the door, but before he left the flat completely, he turned one last time to his brother.
“Thank you.” these words were quiet but Sherlock heard them, to his surprise.
Mycroft left quickly, behind his daughter as she was mumbling about the case all the way to their home.
Molly Hooper spoke to the granite stone, her right hand pressed flat against its smooth surface.
"They closed down our favourite chippy a month ago."
The wind picked up lightly, her loose hair whipped furiously across her face.
"I know, I know it's rubbish. You'll hate it even more to know it's going to be turned into one of those new hipster café's that are sprouting up like common weeds across London."
She laughed a little at the thought of her dad's reaction to their beloved sacred ground being turned into a hippy establishment.
"I won't lie I do love a quirky café, but this is getting ridiculous now."
It was quiet in the cemetery on this summer morning, apart from the sound of a couple of wood pigeons in the neighbouring forest.
"The last time I went was two years ago with Sherlock on a case. We were gathering some evidence from a flat on the same street. I insisted he had to try Bob's Fish & Chips as a fellow lover of all things battered and beige. Even he agreed it was the best fish and chips he had ever had."
She lifted her palm lightly off of the stone and traced the carving of her father's name.
"I think you would have really like him dad. You would have probably tried to punch him once or twice initially. But, I think you would have grown to adore him."
The sound of crunching gravel a few metres away from behind her indicated for her to say her goodbyes.
"Happy Father's Day, dad. I love you always."
She brought her hand to her lips and kissed the inside of her fingers before resting it back on the stone for a few seconds. Eventually she rose from her kneeling position and turned to the figure behind her.
She spoke lightly and quietly as she walked towards not just one, but two people waiting for her.
"My apologies about this, I did try my best to keep this one awake but apparently a cemetery isn't an exciting place for a four-month old."
He gestured to the conked-out babe pressed firmly against his chest.
"I also suspect the fact we all only had about two hours sleep last night due to some teething issues may also be the reason."
Molly rubbed her palm lightly against the babe's back as he spoke, placing a delicate kiss to the dark wildly curls on top of the babe's head.
"Or he could be following in his father's footsteps and turning into an insomniatic night owl."
She turned her affections towards him and stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss to the underside of his strong jaw.
"Used to be a night owl with insomnia. This little one here has definitely made me respect the importance of a quality night's sleep. I am just afraid it is now too late and I will never know what a solid eight hours of sleep will ever feel like."
He spoke quietly, with the slightest hint of drama.
"I may not be able to give you the gift of sleep, but I can certainly promise to keep your stomach full. Come on, we better get to the café, John will be wondering where we are. "
She stepped back as she watched as he carefully walked and lowered the babe down into the pram with all the care of a bomb disposal expert. They both released a breath as the babe stretched and settled without the slightest hint of a murmur. He started to push the pram forward when Molly pulled lightly at the crook of his elbow.
An idea for your chats: Sherlock and Rosie acts as Molly's husband/child or just Rosie acts on her own as their child to get rid off a potential suitor :) got inspires by day 2 of 365 :)
excellent idea. somewhere along the way, mr. potential suitor turned into dr. creepyfuck. I hope you like it though, thank you… ♥♥
Oncologist: *leaning against the bench; smirking* One drink.Molly: *uncomfortable* I’m sorry, I’m just not interested.Oncologist: *rolls his eyes* Well, what do you want to do?Molly: *smiles slightly* Just my job, if that’s alright with you.Oncologist: *folds his arms* I asked nicely, Molly.Molly: *sighs* Please leave me alone.Oncologist: Not until you agree to go out with me *shrugs* simple as that.Rosamund: *runs inside; waving a bag of sweets* Mummy! Mummy, look! *leaps into her arms* Daddy gave me some money and the machine eated it and gived me this! *eating the sweets*Molly: *lifts her up; confused* Daddy?Sherlock: *enters; smiling* Yes, dear?Oncologist: …Molly: *pink; chuckles nervously* What’s going on?Sherlock: *sighs; hands her coffee* I’m sorry, my love, I hate bringing Rosie here as much as you do but she missed you and I couldn’t say no *smiles softly; kisses her cheek* forgive me?Molly: *nods slowly*Oncologist: *staring*Oncologist: *snaps out of it* What the hell is this?Sherlock: *rolls his eyes; gestures the coffee* Starbucks. Not my favourite but what the wife wants, the wife gets *wraps an arm around Molly* wouldn’t have it any other way.Oncologist: *to Molly; frowns* If you’re married, how come you don’t use his name?Sherlock: Because I didn’t go to medical school *pauses* who are you again?Oncologist: *looks between them; storms out*Molly: …Sherlock: *pleased with himself* Results ready yet?Molly: *nods slowly* Uh, y-yeah. On my desk *puts Rosie down* h-how did you know-Rosamund: *annoyed* I saw him in the window. He’s not a nice man, Aunt Molly.Molly: *sighs* No *ruffles her hair* thank you.Sherlock: *reading files* Perhaps we should make it official, though.Molly: *kisses his cheek* You took the words right out of my mouth.
@summerpipedream Guuuuuuurl, okay let me lay this on you real quick before I hit the hay.
Tony is Holmes au. Ey?
Now let’s take that Tony is Holmes bit, let Holmes stay as Holmes, have Holmes live through the 1800s and 1900s along with Mycroft, let Holmes be the ancestor of Tony, let Holmes go visit his most recent relatives, Howard, or even Maria who knows! Get renamed Arno Holmes while Mycroft goes by Gregory Holmes, let Holmes become a sort of friend to this relative, get named honorary godfather to the newly born relative, ya following me? And let Holmes be Tony Stark’s godfather.
Just imagine. Sherlock as a godfather, talking his old cases to Tony like bedtime stories. Eh? Being that complete introvert uncle that Tony absolutely loves. Tony having stars in his eyes as he watches Sherlock beat up some wanna be kidnapper, toying and taunting them while they fight. Sherlock probably being a secret agent of sorts, and with Mycroft’s contacts, a very informative agent that knows more than Shield, and currently tying up someone for locations, stopping mid-knot to answer his phone, surprise! It’s Tony and he wants to say hi to his favorite uncle.
“Hey there, case.”
“Uncle Arno! I won first place.”
“You did? That’s great! I’m sorry I couldn’t attend. I’ve had my hands tied recently,” he says as he shakes the hydra grunt. “Tell you what. To celebrate, let’s head to your favorite place. I’ll even bring Gregory.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Sherlock keeping his accent, making him the third person in Tony’s like with that accent, and going out spy style as the new world becomes more and more secretive, wearing a fine, tailored suit much like his brother, fighting with the suit and looking like someone right out of a Kingsman film, probably wearing the glasses, too, gadgets included and all. He’s not as dangerous as Mycroft, when it comes to hiding the body and nobody will ever know, but he sure knows how to fight and predict outcomes quickly. He scouts for information and nobody expects him to know how to kick ass.
Surprise, surprise. He beats them to a pulp.
Then also include the bit of Mycroft being the one to use his resources to find Steve and locate Bucky, but instead of doing it out of obligation he does it for gain. Having someone as beloved as Captain America indebted to him is a great benefit. Also, it helps that Sherlock got to befriend and fight alongside Steve, remembering the old times fighting alongside John.
Sherlock/Arno and Steve maybe getting together once Steve’s adjusted and Steve becoming Tony’s second godfather. Steve being a total dad and embarrassing Tony. Sherlock sitting and drinking his tea not lifting a finger to save Tony from the dad jokes and adding some himself.
I just want Sherlock as Tony’s uncle and family feels. Steve as another uncle is a bonus. Once they manage to heal Bucky make him a third uncle as well.