Paved with Love

by KeelieThompson1

Summary:

Five year old Ava Watson's life is changed forever when her Daddy's old friend comes calling.

Notes:

I am going through this now to edit, then will start on RoS. It should be obvious from the formating where I'm up to. I'll delete this note once I've finished and put a note on the chapter summary instead :)

Chapter 1: Meeting Sherlock Holmes

Summary:

Just as trouble strikes so does an old friend of Ava's father.

17th September

There were things in life that Ava Watson knew for certain. Things like, on a Sunday, Daddy would make an extra special effort to make sure that her spellings had been learned and that she washed her teeth thoroughly. Like the fact that Mr Hepper, her teacher, hated her for some unknown reason that she thought had to do with Daddy. Like every so often, when Daddy took her for a walk at the weekend, he would pass somewhere and get lost as if remembering something or someone that made him very sad.

Like it was just her and Daddy and whoever Daddy got sad over was long gone.

And, recently, that Daddy was worried.

Really worried.

When she'd torn her coat on the door at school he'd gone funny. Like he wanted to yell at her but didn't. Instead he sat, with a needle and thread, and stitched.

And that he didn't have the baby sitter over to watch her anymore (like she needed a baby sitter at the age of five!). And he was always around now, flicking through the papers and counting the tins in the cupboard.

They were poor.

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22nd September

Daddy hated his new job. It made him clench his hands when he came home and stand over the kitchen table as if he wanted to break it into a billion little pieces. He smelled like the homeless man down the road did when he went into the shop for his special fizzy drink that she couldn't buy until she looked older than twenty one. Or at least that was what the shop man had said.

Sometimes, Daddy would sit and stare at nothing while stroking her hair. Sometimes he would stare at a violin that was always left untouched on the wall. Which, when she thought about it, was a strange place to keep a violin.

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1st October

Daddy hadn't been home.

It made her mad because when they taught fire safety at school they said that you have to go and tell an adult if you smelled smoke. But they had never said what to do if the adult wasn't home. Daddy usually told her the really smart things. Like what she had to do if Daddy got hurt changing a light bulb and fell down (call 999) and what to do if someone broke in (hide out of sight and grab the phone to call 999 really quietly from your hiding spot). She'd thought about calling 999 because that seemed to be the thing to do when an adult was hurt or busy when something urgent was happening but somehow it didn't seem like the smart thing to do.

So instead she sat and glared at the door, holding Charlie Bear close to her.

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13th October

Daddy was mad at the man on the phone but trying not to be. And it wasn't in that way that he was with her sometimes when he was trying to calm himself down. Instead, it was as if he was going to shake apart he was trying to keep so still.

"I can't do it again. You said it was a one off-" Daddy closed his eyes and shook his head. "You know I do...there must be someone else...I...this has to be the last time."

When he hung up Ava stared up at him wide eyed. "Are you going out again?"

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14th October

Daddy had shown her the number. He'd made her recite it every hour that they were together so that she could call the bar and ask for him if she needed him. He went over every possible thing that could happen.

It was almost fun.

"Stacy Webber doesn't get to stay home on her own and she's nine," Ava told Daddy as he kissed her goodbye with a funny look on his face.

Daddy paused.

"You can't tell anyone," he said after a moment. "It has to be our secret."

"No-one?" she asked, a little put out.

"What we're doing," he knelt in front of her, "It's..." One of those far away smile appeared again. "It's a bit not good. Ok? I'm not supposed to leave you on your own."

"I'm just gonna sleep," Ava muttered, sulking.

"I know." Daddy drew in a deep shaky breath. "But I'd get told off."

"By who?"

Daddy watched her for a moment and then shook himself. "By lots of people."

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17th October

Daddy's bedtime stories were the best. Other mummy's and daddy's read books to their children, but Daddy told her special stories.

The best stories.

Stories of a silly man who could tell a person's story from the shoe polish they used and the tan lines they had. Who was the bestest and quickest texter ever and forgot that some people take offence at the truth. But the silly man never saw how much his faithful side-kick loved him and was utterly clueless about the whole thing.

It was funny but sad at the same time.

Daddy said that nothing was ever one or the other.

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22nd October

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Does the world's best detective ever figure out the side-kicks secret?"

"No."

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25th October

When Ava woke up there was blood on the sink.

Just a little bit, covered up by a tissue as if someone had tried to wipe it all away.

Daddy didn't take her to school that day. When he got up (way after Jeremy Kyle had finished) he had a face that looked like he'd been playing with Mrs Harris' eye-shadow.

But it didn't wash off and he winced every time he moved.

They had mash potato for dinner.

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28th October

The market was the best thing about Saturday mornings. It made Daddy smile and all the people shouting out that they had the best things to buy was the one of the funnest things about market mornings.

"How do you know which one's telling the truth?" she asked eyeing up the two fruit and veg sellers that were shouting loudly over each other.

Daddy stared down at her with another strange expression.

"I spent far too much time with him," he muttered.

She didn't think she was meant to hear that.

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31st October

Daddy's omelette was one of the best things he could cook. She was allowed to help beat up the eggs while he fried some of the vegetables they'd bought at the market.

The doorbell went just as he
poured the mixture in.

"Can I answer it?"

Daddy nodded, glancing over at the door. "Make sure the chain's on before you do."

When she opened it and peered through the gap that was almost big enough for her head, she saw two men standing on the other side. Both were tall and dressed in the long coats that rich people seemed to wear.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Ava!" Daddy shouted from the kitchen, "Manners!"

"Please?" she asked, pretty sure that they hadn't done anything to be given a thank you.

One of the tall men with curly dark hair and pale eyes that were narrowed at her, bent closer.

"I have the chain on the door," she told him.

She could hear Daddy coming from the kitchen.

"And I know your Uncle," the man said, flickering his eyes all over her face.

"I don't have an Uncle," she scowled up at him.

Daddy had stopped behind her.

When she glanced back he looked like he'd been frozen. As if time had stopped for him and kept going for her. She stepped back from the door suddenly unsure of what to do.

"John, open the door," the pale eyed man demanded.

Daddy just shook his head as if the pale eyed man could see him. Keeping his eyes fixed upon the wood he reached out a hand to grab Ava's shoulder and pull her away from it.

"Doctor Watson, I understand you may be shocked but_"

"I can get in you know. Even with a chain," the pale eyed man snapped over the other, umbrella wielding man.

Daddy launched at the door and slammed it.

Then locked it.

Then put the dead bolt across.

Then sat with his back against it, head tilted back and shaking.

"I need you to go to the kitchen and climb up onto the work top to turn off the cooker switch. You remember the one that looks like a light bulb but is red? Stay away from the cooker though," Daddy said after a moment.

Ava shifted from one foot to the other, then ran to do as she was told.

When she got back the man was still calling through the door.

"We both know I'm more stubborn that you John. I'll stand out here all night if I have to."

Daddy was staring at the ceiling and shaking his head.

"Go to bed Ava," he said softly.

Ava stepped towards him, "Do you want Charlie-Bear to keep you company?"

Daddy stared at her and then nodded.

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"You have a child."

Ava stirred as Daddy stroked her hair but didn't let him know she'd woken up.

"Obviously," Daddy said in a way that didn't suit him.

"I know who the mother is."

Daddy paused, "Then you know there is nothing more to be said on the matter."

There was a long silence. Long enough that Ava almost fell back to sleep.

"You're still angry."

"Five years Sherlock. Five whole years."

"I'm aware of that."

Ava fought sleep. Adults took so long to talk to each other.

"Is it done with then? The cat and mouse game you play with each other?"

"No."

"Then why are you back?"

The silence went on for so long that Ava fell back asleep before the strange conversation finished.

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3rd November

Daddy was spitting mad.

The other man was standing in their living room looking rather bored.

"I fail to understand what you are so attached to here," the man said dismissively. "The old flat is far better."

"The old flat has only two bedrooms." Daddy drummed his fingers on the table.

"This only has one. What is the difference?"

"I am not sharing a flat with Sherlock again. I have a five year old I do not want her finding his...experiments in the fridge."

"Sherlock has offered to compromise with that."

Daddy snorted. "Sherlock doesn't understand the meaning of the word."

The man glanced over at Ava and she stared back. Looking unamused the strange man looked back at Daddy.

"I will make this clear then Doctor Watson. I am not asking you to move back. I am telling you."

"Or?"

"Do you really think you're in a position to argue?" the man asked as he stood. "The moving van will be here in three days."

"I have work-"

"That pitiable excuse for a job? Hardly fitting of your skills. The old surgery you once worked at has a job opening-"

"I have a child-"

"I believe there are such things as child-minders these days. Or, failing that, Mrs Hudson."

Daddy glared.

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18th November

The new flat was big. But the pale eyed man (or Sherlock as Daddy called him) stared at her as if she was an odd maths sum that didn't quite add up right.

But then he would look at Daddy as if he was the strangest thing to walk the planet, so maybe that was how he looked at everyone.

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22nd November

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" Daddy looked better. They'd had spaghetti bolognaise for tea which had been brilliant.

"Can you tell me a bedtime story?"

On the sofa Sherlock sighed.

Loudly.

Ava had learned it was his way of saying that she was talking too much.

Daddy smiled and nodded. "Go do your teeth and get into bed, then I'll come in."

"Don't draw the shower curtain," Sherlock said after a moment and in a very bored tone.

Ava huffed. "Can you tell me more stories about the world's greatest detective?"

Both Daddy and Sherlock snapped their gazes to her. Daddy shifted uncomfortably and then stood suddenly.

"Why don't we do your teeth together?" Daddy said loudly.

"I want to know if he ever finds out that his side kick loves h_"

"Upstairs," Daddy snapped looking pale.

He didn't follow her so she lurked just behind the door. As per usual it took them ages to say something to each other.

"Delete that." Daddy sounded utterly tired.

"Impossible." Sherlock seemed more interested than she'd ever heard him sound.

"Try."

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24th November

"You don't pick me up from school," Ava said staring up at Sherlock who was busy giving the school the usual scrutiny he saved for new things. She waited for him to dismiss what he saw as unimportant.

Weirdly, he narrowed his eyes back at her.

"Why doesn't your teacher like you?" Sherlock asked.

Ava shrugged.

"That is not an answer," Sherlock huffed.

Ava glanced back at Mr Hepper who was chatting to Gerry Bonder's Mum.

"I don't care," she replied.

"You don't care that it isn't an answer or that he doesn't like you?"

Ava squinted up at him, hating how tall he was because it always meant she had to look up at the sun. "He's not very nice," she settled for saying when he continued to look at her expectantly.

"Why?"

"Because he's mean."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I meant what does he do that makes you think he isn't...nice?" Sherlock said the word nice like someone might say a bad word.

"He only likes smart children."

"You are smart," Sherlock said it as if it was a fact. "He likes children that conform."

"What's that mean?" Ava asked wrinkling her nose.

"Sheep," Sherlock spat. "What else?"

Not sure they were understanding each other, Ava scuffed her shoe on the ground. "He doesn't like Daddy. And he doesn't like children who don't buy the school coat."

"Coat?" Sherlock glanced around and then a funny look crossed his face. "Ah."

"You can't tell Daddy," Ava said suddenly. "He wants me to like school."

Sherlock glanced down and quirked an eyebrow.

"He'd be upset."

Sherlock looked back up and over her head. "Indeed."

She changed schools the following week.

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3rd December

"A. N. D."

"Well done," Daddy nodded. " So how about Sand?"

"S. A. N. D."

"Great. What about_"

"Enough." Sherlock sat up from the sofa he'd been lying on.

"You don't have to be here," Daddy said not looking up. "You have a room."

Ava watched them both.

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock asked striding over to them, still in his dressing gown even though dinner would be ready in twenty minutes.

"I assume we're interrupting the great deducing." Daddy studied the spelling list with more interest than was needed.

"The book said she needs to use it in a sentence."

For the first time in days Daddy looked up at Sherlock. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The book." Sherlock tapped his hands on her homework book dismissively. "If you intend on following the unimaginative and dull approach then at least do so correctly."

Daddy just stared at Sherlock as if he'd grown two heads. "You read Ava's homework book?"

"I do know how to read John."

"Yes, but it's a five year old's homework book," Daddy said as if he was talking to an old person.

"And?" Sherlock leaned back, but the way he looked at Daddy made it seem as if he was daring him to do something.

"Spellings are boring," Ava told Sherlock, thinking maybe he had missed the point.

Instead Sherlock looked at her triumphantly. "See? Ava agrees."

Daddy leant back too. "Then by all means Sherlock. Do your worst."

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Ava never told Daddy, but homework with Sherlock was far more interesting than homework with Daddy.

After all, no-one else at school could say their Daddy's friend had brought home an owl and a cat just so they could draw the pictures for a story accurately.

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5th December

Daddy and Sherlock weren't talking.

And it wasn't like when they'd first moved in together and they'd been polite. This was epic. Like when she'd fallen out with Hannah and they hadn't spoken for three lunch times and four break times.

But worse.

"Why won't Daddy talk to you?"

"Because he's being dull." Sherlock tapped away at the laptop.

"Why?"

"Because he's afraid."

"Daddy isn't afraid of anything," Ava told him.

Sherlock glanced at her before continuing his tapping.

"Are you the world's greatest detective?"

"I'm a consulting detective," Sherlock corrected her.

"Why?"

"You are overly fond of that word today," Sherlock muttered.

"But you said people who don't ask what they want to know are boring."

The smallest hint of a smile appeared on Sherlock's face.

"Remind your father of that please."

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11th December

Ava was woken up by the shouting. After a week of silence she supposed it was only fair they made up for it.

Their voices rumbled and she couldn't make out the words. But at least they were talking.

But then they went silent again.

When she went to see what was going on she stopped dead in the doorway.

Daddy and Sherlock were kissing.

Worse than that, they were snogging.

"Mrs Price told us you have to be married to do that."

Sherlock's eyes snapped open and stared at her while Daddy yelped and threw himself halfway across the room.

They both just watched her.

"Does this mean you're friends again?" Ava asked them.

"I..well..."Daddy looked at Sherlock as if for help who just stared back at him.

"I think you should be. Even if snogging is gross."

"I...thank you," Daddy stuttered.

"Amy Harris said her mum got ill from snogging too much."

"Did she?" Daddy sounded a bit lost.

"And that it's wet and yuck. But if you like doing it I suppose you can."

"That's nice of you," Daddy swallowed. "Perhaps you should go back to bed."

"Ok." She smiled brightly at him and then went back to bed.

And, before she fell asleep she heard them both laughing together for the first time.

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15th December

They didn't act like a couple. They never held hands and Daddy never seemed to spend the night talking to Sherlock in his room like some people on TV seemed to. But they were talking. Even if they seemed to be acting a bit weird around each other.

But then, that was grown-ups for you.

"Where were you?" Ava asked Sherlock as he tuned the violin.

"Away."

"Why didn't Daddy go with you?"

"Because he was looking after you."

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Ava turned it around over and over in her head that night. Daddy had been sad because he hadn't been with Sherlock. She was pretty sure now that Sherlock was the detective in his stories and that he had been the side-kick.

Maybe that was why they were acting strange. Maybe she'd split them up and now they liked each other again maybe they wanted to make sure they never had to split up again.

Maybe they were going to send her away. Maybe back to the old flat. Maybe that was why Daddy hadn't been home recently.

She didn't want to go away.

Clutching Charlie-Bear close, Ava wandered out to the sitting room where Sherlock was playing the violin still.

"Please don't send me away," she sobbed.

The violin made a horrible screeching sound as Sherlock whirled at the sound of her voice and stared in confusion.

"Are you hurt?"

Ava blinked at him through her tears. "If I say yes can you not send me away?"

"Send you..." Sherlock looked around and seemed to steel himself. "Why would we? What did you do?"

"Daddy had to look after me last time and now you want to be together and you'll have to send me away."

Sherlock shook his head. "What?" he looked utterly baffled. "How on earth have you come to that conclusion?"

Ava shrugged. "I don't know," she said in a tiny voice. "Mrs Price said people who fall in love want to be on their own."

"Mrs Price is an idiot," Sherlock muttered.

"No she isn't." Ava wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

"You are not being sent anywhere," Sherlock said firmly.

"Even if you don't like me most of the time?" Ava asked.

Sherlock watched her for a very long, long time and then slowly put the violin down and made his way over to her. Ava watched as he stopped in front of her and then sat on the floor.

"Why do you think I don't like you?"

Ava shrugged.

"I've told you before that is not a valid answer," Sherlock tilted his head to the side. "Tell me the evidence."

"You get annoyed that you have to hide the jar of fingers and all the other things."

Sherlock continued to watch her.

"And you hate that I watched CBBC."

Sherlock seemed to nod at that.

"And...you don't like it when I ask you questions, even though you try to get Daddy to ask questions."

Sherlock breathed in.

"And you don't like sharing Daddy with me," Ava squared her chin and waited.

Sherlock stared.

"You are so much like your father," he said eventually.

Ava shifted. "Is that good?"

"I hate hiding my experiments," Sherlock said slowly, "But that's more to do with your father than with you. I despise that channel. It caters to you rather than encouraging you to think."

Ava screwed up her nose, almost sure she'd understood that.

"You ask excessive questions when you don't really care about the answers and rarely try to work out the logical conclusions on your own. But then, most people do that."

Ava clutched Charlie-Bear and waited.

"And most of all I do not want to share your father with anyone."

Ava stared at the ground.

"But for no-one else would I suffer all of that."

Ava looked back up, confused.

Sherlock huffed in irritation. "Your father would not send you away for anything or anyone. Nor would I permit anyone to remove you. It is something we have agreed wholly on."

Ava still stared.

Frustrated Sherlock stared at the ceiling. "I don't hate you."

"Oh." Ava smiled. "Good."

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16th December

The film had been way too long and boring but Mrs Hudson had liked it and so Ava hadn't complained. And her flat was really warm and smelt like jam and flowers.

She'd fallen asleep really easily.

And woke when she was being carried up the stairs.

The smell was all wrong. Daddy usually smelt like vix cream and like soap and polish. The smells this time were of outdoors and rain and moss.

And it was higher up than usual.

"I didn't realise the time otherwise I'd have sent her up," Mrs Hudson was saying. Ava risked peeping over the shoulder of the man carrying her and saw through sleepy eyes that Mrs Hudson was looking fondly surprised.

"It's alright," Sherlock said, shifting Ava a little as she snuggled into his neck. "I'll put her to bed."

"I can do it_"

"It's perfectly fine Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said firmly and continued up the second flight of stairs.

"Not sleepy," Ava muttered into Sherlock's scarf, determined to put up some fight.

"I can see that," Sherlock replied, sounding amused.

"Where's Charlie-Bear?" Ava asked.

"I have him," Sherlock said gently, manoeuvring them all through the door. "How was your film?"

"Boring," Ava muttered.

There was a pause and then a chuckle. "My sympathies."

Ava turned pushed further against him, comfortable and yawned. "Want Charlie-Bear."

Sherlock rearranged and Ava found herself with Charlie-Bear in her arms while still in Sherlock.

It never occurred to her to ask why he hadn't put her to bed.

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Daddy was stroking her hair.

"You trust me in this?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes," Daddy said simply, sounding tired.

"You do understand that I am not equipped to deal with this. I had the child in tears yesterday."

Daddy sighed and sounded far away as his hands withdrew from her hair. "And yet she's not suffering from any severe mental trauma?" he asked mockingly. "Sherlock, she's five. Five year olds cry over anything. I had one in today who cried because they couldn't remember which toe it was they said was hurting."

Ava felt Sherlock's sigh and his chin brush the top of her head. "She asked me why I hated her."

"And I imagine you now want to argue that she's the only child to worry about a step-parents affection."

Sherlock was still. "I am not her step-parent though."

Daddy sighed and then the bed creaked as he sat. "Fine...father's new gay partner."

"Don't be facetious."

"Can you take my point?" Daddy muttered. "It's a normal reaction."

The bed creaked as Daddy stood up again and Sherlock seemed to be pondering.

"Her teacher's an idiot."

"You think everyone's an idiot."

"You should allow me to put her in a better school."

"I thought that was what we did." Daddy was moving around the room with that annoyingly calm tone of his.

"I'm offering to pay for_"

"I know," Daddy cut Sherlock off. "Take the hint."

"Can I ask why not?"

"Because she's fine where she is."

"I don't want her to settle for fine," Sherlock snapped.

"And I don't want her to feel she has to live up to some ridiculously high Holmesian expectation," Daddy snapped back. "Just...she's fine where she is for now. At the end of the school year we'll talk about it."

Long fingers stroked her cheek gently. "That's ages away."

"So says the man who couldn't understand why I was upset about him vanishing into thin air for five years."

"I understood it, I simply chose not to let it stand in the way of things," Sherlock muttered.

Daddy simply leant over Ava's head and from the sounds of it gave Sherlock a kiss. "Tea?"

"I'm fine." Sherlock's arms tightened a bit.

Then Daddy left, shutting the door quietly.

"Do you always spy on us when you're meant to be asleep?" Sherlock asked as Daddy put the kettle on in the kitchen. He didn't sound as mad as she thought he would.

"No. Just when you talk about me," Ava rolled her head on his shoulder to look up at him, "Is that ok?"

Sherlock sighed. "I suppose so. Don't tell your father though. He'll be paranoid for months otherwise."

Chapter 2: Christmas at Baker Street

Summary:

Ava, John and Sherlock spend their first Christmas week together.

17th December

Ava watched wide eyed as Daddy stepped back from the tree, panting a bit and wiping a hand over his face.

"It's huge," she muttered, wide eyed and staring up at the very top of their biggest ever Christmas tree.

"Mm,." Daddy muttered, cracking his back. "Should have had it up here earlier," he tutted.

Sherlock had bowed to Daddy when Daddy had insisted they have a tree. But Sherlock had huffed and looked at them both saying something about 'stick to the rules, John'.

Apparently the rules were that they could decorate one week before and take it down one week after.

Daddy had grinned and shrugged when Ava had pointed out that really they should have waited until tomorrow.

"He'll live," Daddy had said as he winked.

Daddy hefted the box of decorations they'd bought last week and looked into the box a bit doubtfully. "Are you sure?" he asked looking back up.

She stood next to where he knelt, pressing herself into him a little so she could get to the box and draw out a silver bauble. "I told you, the Christmas tree at school is gold. I want silver."

"Just silver?" Daddy sounded still unsure. "Last year the tree hurt from the amount of colours."

"Last year I was four," she said, making her voice scornful. "Last year I tried to put the pretty things on before the lights," she turned her head to stare at him pointedly.

Daddy's mouth twisted in that way that meant he wanted to laugh but didn't dare. "Ah, well then I had best get started."

Nodding she watched him dig the lights out of the box and stand up, a hand briefly cupping the top of her head as he moved to the tree. Delighted she perched herself on the sofa and watched as he checked the lights and then wrapped them around the tree.

"You need to spread them out more," she told him, tilting her head to one side.

Daddy turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Well you do," she protested at the scolding look. "It looks wonky."

Looking suspicious, Daddy walked over and sat down next to her then burst out laughing.

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She was hanging the last bauble on the tree while Daddy waited patiently, the little angel that she had made at school waiting in his hand as she hovered the silvered glittering ball over the branches.

Eventually she placed it, stepping back proudly.

Daddy, she noticed, was starting to look a little bored. But if he'd got the lights done right they'd be finished by now so he had only himself to blame.

"Last bit," he said with far too much happiness for her liking. "Then we can have a cuppa."

Daddy was obsessed with tea. She really didn't know why.

But she solemnly accepted the angel and let Daddy pick her up so she could reach the top branch. He was letting her sit on his shoulder to reach over when the door downstairs slammed close and there was the noise of footsteps stomping on the stairs.

"Sherlock," Daddy said, sounding as if he was giving out a warning rather than a hello.

Ava turned to see Sherlock pausing at the door, his mouth open as if he had been about to start a rant about something. Probably how annoying Christmas was to him, if the argument he'd had with Mrs Hudson about mince pies had been anything to go on.

She caught his eye and looked pointedly at the tree.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It goes down a day earlier," he ordered.

"Of course," Daddy said as he turned them both back to the tree. "Pop the angel on then."

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While Daddy made the tea, Sherlock stepped over studying her handiwork.

"Well done," Sherlock said after a moment. "And he didn't guess?"

Ava shook her head proudly. "I told him the tree at school was gold, just like you said."

Sherlock nodded and took something out of his deep pockets, handing it to her without looking. It was a light pink bauble, frosted with silver and it gleamed in the light.

Biting her lip, Ava took it and inspected it eagerly. "I thought you said you didn't want pink?" she said glaring up at him suddenly. "I'd have picked that for my colour rather than silver."

Sherlock turned his face down to her. "Now you have both." His eyes flickered up to the kitchen. "We'll renegotiate the colour next year."

"Good," Ava said, sticking out her chin, trying to ignore how pretty the tree looked with its frosted silver additions rather than the mess of colour last year.

"Put the...thing on before your father comes back in," Sherlock said suddenly, turning towards his room. "He may catch on otherwise; he does occasionally have moments of brilliance."

Later, when daddy sat down with her to watch Enchanted while Sherlock skulked in his room, she watched his eyes settle on the pink bauble with amusement and thought that perhaps Daddy hadn't been quite so fooled as she'd thought.

She didn't tell Sherlock though.

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21st December

The most annoying thing about being so small was that she wasn't allowed to put the Christmas cards up on the piece of string that Daddy had tied along the tops of the walls. She tried to negotiate with him but he'd just glared at Sherlock's door and shook his head.

"Any to add?" Daddy asked Sherlock as the tall man stood at the door putting his scarf on.

Sherlock blinked at him as if he was talking a different language and then shrugged. "How would I know?"

"Perhaps if you opened the pile sitting on the table-"

"You do it," Sherlock continued wrapping his scarf on. "I have very little interest in reading generic messages and false sentiment."

Daddy folded his arms. "There's one you should open."

"Two," Ava corrected, looking up from where she'd been glaring at Daddy.

Sherlock's eyes flicked back and forth between them before he huffed. "Fine, put them aside. The rest you may open and," he looked up at the cards on the wall with a pained expression, "pin up"

"Thank you so much," Daddy said in a way that sounded as if he wasn't being at all serious.

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Ava was allowed to open the cards and hand them to Daddy which cheered her up a bit. And it meant that she was allowed to snoop on Sherlock which Daddy never allowed.

"Can I read some?" she asked.

"Why not?" Daddy said, sounding distracted. "Someone may as well."

But hardly any of them had anything interesting in them. In fact most of them were really boring, just as Sherlock had said they would be.

But there was one strange one.

"Someone forgot to put a name," Ava told Daddy staring at the rather fancy looking card.

"Mm?" Daddy said, clearly not listening.

"Look," Ava said handing it to him. "There's the word 'dead' in there," she told him in a scandalous tone.

The card was snatched from her hands before she even realised Daddy had jumped down from his perch on the sofa's arm. Shocked, she stared up at him as his hands gripped the card as if he wanted to rip it up.

Then a choked gasp of disbelief puffed from her Daddy and he sunk down on the sofa next to her.

"It would take Sherlock Holmes himself," he muttered quietly as if repeating something.

Curious that she may have missed something, Ava scooted closer and tried to crane her neck.

But Daddy stood up and started moving things around.

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"Why are we staying here tonight?" Ava asked Daddy as he tucked her into the bed at the hotel.

"Because," Daddy said in a voice that told her not to even bother asking any more questions.

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22nd December

"The police tell people off when they break into houses." She told Sherlock as he stood with his back against the door, hands deep in his pockets.

"This isn't a house," Sherlock muttered, glaring at her still sleeping Daddy.

"I'm not sure that matters." Ava wrapped pulled her nightie down so it covered her toes as she sat with her knees drawn up to her chest. The TV now ignored in favour of Sherlock.

Sherlock's eyes flickered over to her. "I'm sure you're right," he said after a moment. "But the police also tell people off who leave where they live all of a sudden without any warning."

Tilting her head to the side Ava considered that. "No, they don't," she said eventually.

"They do. It's called wasting police time," Sherlock switched his gaze back to Daddy as if it were his fault.

Ava looked over behind her to where Daddy slept; unaware she'd wriggled out from under the covers when it got light. She hadn't slept very well in the strange room and without Charlie-Bear. "Daddy's really mad with you."

"Why?" Sherlock said after a moment.

Ava shrugged.

"I have told you time and time again, that is not an acceptable answer." Sherlock sounded really frustrated, as if he were seconds away from shouting. Ava had heard Sherlock shouting properly once before when he was standing on the street with someone. He could be scary when he yelled. She stared at him wide-eyed and suddenly unsure what to do.

That was until a strong arm wrapped itself around her and pulled her back down and under the covers until she was pressed against Daddy's old t-shirt and was able to hide from the fuming look Sherlock had been giving.

"Go away," Daddy said after a moment. "I'll talk to you later."

"We will talk now_"

"No." Daddy had sat up but let her stay safe in the blankets. "This is not the time or the place Sherlock."

"You left." Sherlock's voice had a strange tone to it. "I came back and you weren't there."

Daddy was still. Ava just buried herself further into him, not wanting to hear them shout at each other.

"I'll meet you in two hours," Daddy said eventually. "Let me get her up and then I'll take her to Mrs Hudson. We can talk afterwards."

There was silence.

"Sherlock," Daddy snapped, "Not now. You're frightening her." Then Daddy stiffened and made a sudden movement. "Wait I didn't_"

And the door slammed shut.

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Mrs Hudson made the best fairy cakes in the world.

It was a fact.

"Daddy and Sherlock are telling each other off," Ava told her as she was allowed to mix the butter and sugar together.

Mrs Hudson watched her with a fond smile. "That's what they do my dear. They tell each other off and then they move on to something else."

Ava looked down at the creamy mixture. "If I have to leave can I live here?"

Mrs Hudson laughed, "Good heavens, why on earth would you have to leave?"

Ava shrugged.

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They didn't come and get her that night, but she heard their voices as they came in. It sounded as if they'd been running or fighting they were so out of breath and it took them ages to get up the stairs.

But they never came back down for her.

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23rd December

Mrs Hudson was not happy when she found her in the morning.

"What are you doing?" she almost shrieked.

Ava peered up from where she had sat herself at the kitchen door so that she would know the moment Daddy and Sherlock came back down for her. But it had been cold on the kitchen floor and she was shivering like mad.

"Waiting for Daddy," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because, really, what else would she be doing?

"You're like ice," Mrs Hudson looked terribly worried as she knelt by Ava. "Come on sweetheart, let's get you a back into bed."

"No." Ava yanked herself out of Mrs Hudon's arms. "I have to stay here."

"Why?"

"Because otherwise they might forget to come and get me," Ava huffed, folding her arms. "I have to remind them when they come downstairs."

Mrs Hudson's mouth dropped open. "Forget about you?" she parroted weakly.

Ava nodded.

Mrs Hudson drew herself back, looking suddenly very stern. "Now you're just being silly young lady. Your Daddy couldn't forget about you if his life depended on it."

"But he's with Sherlock and Sherlock's mad at me." Ava squirmed under that look.

"There are days where that boy doesn't shut up about you." Mrs Hudson stood, dusting herself off. "I doubt he's really that mad at you."

"But...he looked really mad. And upset. And he stormed out and he was going to yell," Ava protested.

Mrs Hudson leveled a firm look at her. "Everyone gets a bit angry sometimes. I'm sure once he's calmed down_"

"That's why I have to listen for them," Ava said insistently

Mrs Hudson sighed and shook her head. "You're not going to move, are you?"

Ava shook her head.

A few minutes later she was wrapped on in the duvet with a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of fresh, warm scones.

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"Do I want to know?" Daddy asked, taking in the blanket and chocolate around her mouth.

Ava turned to look at Mrs Hudson who was watching them from where she sat at the kitchen table.

"It's Christmas," Mrs Hudson said, as if that was an explanation. Grown-ups seemed to like that excuse Ava had noticed, but, as it tended to work in her favour, she didn't think it was worth pointing out.

Daddy shook his head. "Up you come then," he said scoping her up. "Ah, I didn't bring her dressing gown-"

"Take the duvet. You can bring it back later," Mrs Hudson said with a smile. "But John?"

"Yes?"

"Send Sherlock down here would you at some point today."

Daddy nodded as Ava leant her head on his shoulder sleepily. "Of course. Any reason?"

"Just ask him to pop down."

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Sherlock was no-where to be seen when they got back up to the flat. Daddy took them up again to their room at the top and put her down on her bed.

"All right?" he asked, frowning at her as he stroked a quick finger over her cheek.

Ava nodded. "Are you and Sherlock still fighting?"

"No," Daddy sighed. "No, not anymore."

Ava yawned. "Good."

Leaning forward, Daddy touched the back of his hand to her forehead. "You're a bit hot," he said gently. "Did you not sleep very well last night?"

Ava shifted and stared up at his worried face. "We forgot Charlie-Bear," she said after a moment.

Daddy winced and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry Ava," he whispered, sounding upset.

But he wasn't meant to! She'd thought he'd be less upset by that than the truth. Though it had been a bit hard to sleep without the familiar smell of Charlie-Bear.

"Mrs Hudson and I made cakes," she said after a moment, unsure of what else to say.

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It turned out that having Daddy look upset had brilliant plus points. She was allowed to stay in bed all day and Daddy even brought an old TV up for her to watch. Plus, her cakes and Mrs Hudson's scones made an appearance.

She didn't see Sherlock all day.

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24th December

"Daddy?"

"Mm?" Daddy was in his chair with the news on and a cup of tea in his hand while she tried to do a puzzle she'd found. It was pretty hard because it had lots of fairies who all looked the same.

"Santa will know where to bring the presents, won't he?" Ava asked.

"Of course he will. Remember? You told him you'd moved in your letter."

Ava nodded. "But I wasn't here yesterday. Or the day before that. What if he gets confused?"

Daddy muted the television. "Ava..." he seemed to struggle for what to say. "I know this hasn't been the best lead up to Christmas…" He took a deep breath and then scooted off the chair and onto the floor next to her, pulling her onto his lap. "But I promise you that tomorrow will be perfect."

"Sherlock says perfect is boring," Ava reminded him, snuggling into the thick jumper.

Daddy snorted. "Well, as close to perfect as you two will let me get," he said, sounding if he were trying not to laugh.

Ava shifted to look up at him. "If I tell you a secret will you promise not to be angry?"

Daddy tightened his arms around her and nodded, his eyes looking worried. "Of course."

Ava traced the pattern on his jumper until Daddy cupped her cheek with his hand and gently got her to look at him. He looked suddenly pale and a bit ill.

"I didn't get you a present," she whispered, feeling her eyes start to get wet with tears. "I forgot to ask someone."

To her amazement, Daddy let out what sounded like a relieved laugh and wrapped her into a bear hug. "Don't be silly," he said softly. "Do you know what the best present you can give me is?"

"What?" she asked trying to see his face while staying in the hug.

"You being happy."

Annoyed, she pulled back. "That's not a present."

"It's the only thing I want," he said with a laugh.

"But it isn't a present," she glared up at him. "You can't put it in wrapping paper,"

Daddy burst out laughing again.

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Sherlock was being very quiet all through dinner. At first Ava had wondered if Daddy had told Sherlock to be quiet for Christmas, but then she saw the worried looks Daddy shot across the table and binned that idea.

"Did you buy carrots?" she asked suddenly.

"Sorry?" Daddy blinked his attention back to her.

"For the reindeer?" Ava said, munching on her chips. "They have to have carrots; otherwise they get too tired to pull the sleigh."

"Of course I did."

But next to her Sherlock had winced and even she couldn't miss the way Daddy's eyes flickered over to him and narrowed.

Ava glanced between the two of them. "And milk because it's thirsty work for Santa?"

Daddy said nothing but raised a questioning eye at Sherlock who huffed. "How would I know? I never touch it."

Daddy opened his mouth to say something and then caught Ava's eye. "You didn't get my text then?" he asked, sounding too calm.

Sherlock tapped his fingers on the table. "I was occupied."

Daddy narrowed his eyes.

"Have you seen the queues?" Sherlock relented after a moment. "You can barely get in the door."

Ava nodded. "Mrs Hudson says everyone thinks the shops are closing for months when it's Christmas"

"Closing," Sherlock muttered with an annoyed breath. "Ah." Sherlock winced again and stared at Daddy who just tipped his head back with a sigh.

"But we have carrots and milk, don't we?" Ava asked feeling the slightest bit of panic. What if Santa thought she was being ungrateful? What if he decided she wasn't on the good list and took the presents back?

Daddy stood and came over to kneel by her seat. "Ava, sometimes Santa gets bored of milk all the time so we'll give him some...juice?" His eyes flickered over her shoulder to where Sherlock was sitting and his mouth tightened, "Some coffee?"

Then his mouth tightened more.

"Whiskey?"

Ava stared at him in horror, "You can't give Santa that when he's driving a sleigh."

Daddy's mouth twitched but he reached out to stoke a curl back behind her ear. "We'll find something for him."

"And the reindeer?"

"Yes." Daddy stood up and plucked a chip from her plate. "Won't we?" he said directing the last at Sherlock who was staring at his plate with his shoulders slumped.

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When Ava came back down from her bath wrapped up in her pajamas and dressing gown Sherlock and Daddy were talking in quiet, rapid tones.

"You found milk?" she squealed in delight, spotting the plastic bottle on the table. "And..." she stopped and stared at the huge carrots. "Are they real?" she asked in awe, tracing them with her fingers.

"Of course they are," Sherlock said turning away from Daddy.

"Sherlock-" Daddy was almost growling in annoyance and when she turned to look at them both she could see Sherlock giving Daddy a look that almost seemed to say 'Ha, you can't say anything'.

Ava shrugged and looked back at the carrots. "The reindeer will be really happy after they visit me," she announced almost squeaking with joy. "Can we put my stocking up?"

Daddy nodded and steered her over to the fireplace.

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"Not too early," Daddy warned as he tucked her in. "You'll have to wait until both Sherlock and I are awake to open your presents."

"Then you can't stay in bed too late," Ava pouted.

Daddy grinned. "Agreed?" he asked, holding out his hand for her to shake. Trying to be very mature about it, Ava took his hand solemnly. Strangely, it only made Daddy grin even more.

He read her a story, using his best voices until she was almost asleep. Then pulled the covers over her and bent to give her a kiss.

"Daddy?"

"Mm?"

"You know you said I had to be happy for Christmas?"

Daddy seemed to hesitate. "Yes?"

"Can I have a present like that?"

"I suppose..." Daddy sounded a bit doubtful.

"Can you make Sherlock act like he normally does for Christmas?"

Daddy smiled and she could see him looking over at the doorway triumphantly but she was too tired to crane her neck to see what it was he was looking at.

"Why? What's wrong with how he's acting now?" Daddy asked, sounding as if he knew the answer.

"Not talking," Ava muttered, feeling how soft the pillow was and how warm the blankets were. "He looks like he's been told off."

Daddy bent over again and stroked her hair. "I'll do my best," he promised.

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25th December

Santa had come!

Ava stood bouncing from one leg to the other in utter joy as she stared at the presents frothing up from the stocking. Daddy and Sherlock had put some under the tree as well.

Ava turned and ran back upstairs and jumped on Daddy to wake him up because if it was light enough to see the presents then it wasn't too early...right?

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"You look half asleep," Sherlock said as he came out of his room and spotted Daddy.

Daddy glared. "I'm looking forward to next year," he gritted out, "When you get woken up at the same time as me."

"Why?" Ava asked looking up from her present inspection as she fingered all the wrapped up gifts.

"Because it's only fair he gets woken up when I do," Daddy replied sulkily.

"But why would he get woken up the same time as you next year?"

Daddy blinked, suddenly looking a lot more awake and shifted in his seat while Sherlock just leaned against the door frame watching and waiting with a smirk on his face.

"Don't look smug," Daddy hissed.

"I have had nothing to do with this," Sherlock said with a rather wolf like smile. "You have only yourself to blame."

Daddy seemed torn for a moment then looked over at Ava and met her eyes. "Well if Sherlock's awake, you know what time it is?"

Ava shrieked and ran to the stocking.

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"Open it, open it," Ava practically bounced on Daddy's lap ignoring the way he winced and shifted.

Mrs Hudson laughed in the corner, happy with her gloves. Grown-ups liked such boring things.

Sherlock seemed amused by her reaction but started to strip away the ribbons and tape with worrying precision.

"Is he going to keep the paper?" she asked Daddy who laughed.

"For god sakes Sherlock, just tear it," Daddy encouraged, resting his chin on Ava's shoulder. She could feel his smile all the way down to her toes.

"You seem strangely eager about revealing a present you bought," Sherlock muttered.

"I didn't buy that for you," Daddy said as he shook his head.

Sherlock paused. "It's wrapped up with the paper you've used for everything else."

Daddy rolled his chin a bit, "Okay...then I've forgotten it. Deleted it so you can't guess."

Sherlock nodded, but seemed a little wary now.

Inside, from what Ava could see, there was a photo album.

"I'm really sure I didn't get you that," Daddy said with a laugh. "Though I hate shopping, so I may have just forgotten out of self-preservation."

Sherlock swept his pale eyes over them both and seemed to pause for a moment. "That's sounds worryingly likely," he drawled.

There was a moment, just a moment, which made her think a grey cloud had just appeared in the room. Sherlock and Daddy seemed to be looking at each other strangely.

Then it passed with a shaken laugh from Daddy and Sherlock standing up abruptly.

Daddy wrapped Ava up in his arms and buried his face in her hair. "I think someone needs to go try on her Christmas dress," he said with a strange twinge in his voice.

Brightening, Ava turned around. "Really?"

Daddy nodded and she pretty much bounced out of the room.

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She'd barely got into her room before she heard the explosion from downstairs.

"Get your brother in here. Now, Sherlock!"

Ava froze and crept to the door.

"I don't care!" Daddy bellowed, "If I'm going to be followed by Mycroft everywhere I go, then I expect it to be of some actual fucking use!"

Daddy never swore. Not like that.

Worried, she ran back down stairs and hovered in the doorway watching the adults with huge eyes. Mrs Hudson was in the chair looking horrified and pale while Sherlock looked as if he was about to snap in two.

Daddy was holding onto the edge of the chair with white hands.

"If he comes near her I swear to god-"

"John," Sherlock said tightly and tilted his head in Ava's direction.

Then she was swept up in arms that shook and her Daddy seemed to fold himself around her, as if to hide her from the world.

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It was only later when Mycroft, the slightly scary man with the suits and umbrellas, talked to Daddy and Sherlock in the kitchen that she was able to catch a glimpse of Sherlock's present.

She'd never known Mrs Hudson had taken a picture of her when she'd slept on the kitchen floor. Though it was a bit strange Mrs Hudson hadn't said anything when he'd opened it.

And the writing under it was strange; unfamiliar in his loops and whirls and made no sens when she sounded it all out.

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Keep a closer eye on your strays. I'm bored

x

Chapter 3: A day with the consulting detective

Summary:

Ava and Sherlock spend the day together, which would be fine except Lestrade has a case for Sherlock.

27th January

"Training?" Sherlock asked doubtfully, looking between Ava and her Daddy.

"I told you last week," Daddy said, buttering toast.

"Are they not trained in the first place?" Sherlock asked, the violin dropping from his neck and the bow lowering.

Ava leaned on her arms as she rocked back and forth on the table from where she was kneeling on a chair. "It means we get a day off," she chirped helpfully

Sherlock's eyes flickered at her but went straight back to Daddy.

"They have to keep up to date. I go to medical conferences sometimes for the same reason." Daddy started spreading the jam. "It's one day, Sherlock. Less than that. I'll try to get out as soon as I can."

Slowly, Sherlock put the violin away, seeming to be lost in thought. Daddy watched him and then shook his head as he cut the toast into triangles, not squares, and passed the plate to Ava.

"You are aware that Mrs Hudson is away visiting her sister?" Sherlock asked as Ava started to munch on her breakfast.

It was so much better when it was cut in triangles!

Daddy stopped screwing the lid back on the jam, swallowed and then continued.

"Yes," he said and even Ava could tell he was fibbing.

"That was pitiful," Sherlock said looking as if just watching the fib had been painful.

"If you really don't want to do it Sherlock-" Daddy started sounding very tired even as Ava looked up from her toast, hurt.

"You don't want to spend the day with me?" she asked, bottom lip trembling. Daddy had said that Sherlock would like having her for the day, even if he seemed to forget about it every time they mentioned it.

Sherlock's gaze darted between the two of them, looking suddenly panicked. "I...this surely cannot be your best solution?"

Daddy turned to look at him and they had one of those moments that was starting to happen more and more. One of those times when it was as if she had headphones on and couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, except they weren't talking, just looking at each other.

Sherlock's expression seemed to soften and he nodded.

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"You're going to be good for Sherlock aren't you?" Daddy asked as he gave her a goodbye hug.

Ava nodded seriously.

"And you're going to do all your homework?"

Ava looked over at the dreaded homework book and then back up.

"But I don't really want to," she told him honestly.

Daddy's lips twitched and she heard a snort from the sofa. "Still, it needs to be done," Daddy said sounding both firm and giggly as the same time.

"'K," Ava said, pouting.

Daddy pressed a kiss to her hair and then walked to the sofa.

"I'll give you a text when I know what time I'll be home," he said to Sherlock.

Sherlock didn't say anything, so Daddy just nodded to himself and went to the door.

The speed at which Sherlock sat up, got to his feet and to the door made Ava jump. He was like the Flash on television.

Quicker, maybe.

"That's it?" Sherlock asked.

Daddy drew in a deep breath as he turned. "I'm going to be late," he warned.

"You want to give me a list," Sherlock stated. "You've been carrying around a Biro and pad since we woke up."

"You don't need a list," Daddy said folding his arms. "I'm just being over-protective. You've managed for a few hours after school before."

"When Mrs Hudson was downstairs," Sherlock argued.

"And how often did you use her?" Daddy asked, sounding as if he knew the answer.

Sherlock took a step back. "So I'm to be left to my own devices, to make my own judgements?"

Daddy narrowed his eyes. "Yes," he said slowly, as if unsure of the answer. "I suppose that's one way of looking at it..." he scanned the flat, "No exp..." He let out a long sigh, "I trust your judgement."

Sherlock kissed him.

Ava sighed. They were going that a lot more now, but she'd never seen them snog for that long since the first time she'd caught them doing it.

"How do you breathe doing that?" she asked after a moment.

Sherlock pulled away muttering something that she couldn't hear and Daddy laughed.

"She'd got you wrapped around her little finger," he teased Sherlock, shaking his head. "Right, see you later. I'll bring back dinner."

Sherlock nodded taking a step back.

"Pizza?" Ava asked eagerly.

"Not pizza," Sherlock huffed before she'd even finished saying anything.

"Have fun," Daddy said.

And then the door closed and it was just Sherlock and her.

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Ava was colouring in her picture when the phone went.

Sherlock didn't move.

"Hello?" she asked picking up the phone.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end sounded puzzled. "Is...is a Mr Holmes there?"

"Mr Holmes?" she asked, screwing up her face at Sherlock who had sat up and was watching her closely. He shook his head.

"No, Sherlock says he doesn't live here,"

Sherlock put his head in his hands and groaned.

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"Another one?" Sherlock asked sounding as excited as he did when Daddy suggested an early night.

The man on the end of the phone must have said something good because Sherlock's eyes seemed to light up in delight and he begun to pace.

"Where was it found...she found?" he asked.

"Ten minutes," he said hanging up the phone and chuckling.

"Ten minutes what?" Ava asked.

Sherlock let out a strange sound like an annoyed hiss. "There's always something," he muttered to himself before turning around and studying her.

"What?" she asked.

"You do not answer the phone," he said after a moment. "Is that clear?"

"Why not?"

Sherlock lifted his chin and stared down at her. "Because it is not going to be for you and therefore you do not need to answer."

That seemed fair. "If I give my friends my number can I answer the phone?"

"Ask your father."

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Sherlock stared at the same spot for ages. So Ava went back to her colouring and left him to it. Sometimes Sherlock could think for hours.

She hoped it wasn't something you had to do when you became an adult. She didn't think she'd like to do it very much.

"Get your coat," Sherlock said suddenly, still not moving or looking away from his spot.

"What about my scarf?" she asked.

"Yes, and that."

"Gloves?"

Sherlock nodded. "Those too."

"Do I need my shoes?"

Sherlock finally looked at her. "Yes, of course you need your shoes," he said, as if she were being silly.

"Are we going out then?" Ava asked.

"Was that not clear?" Sherlock asked almost sounding as if he was being polite.

It was weird.

"Which shoes?" she asked.

Sherlock closed his eyes as if she'd hurt him and took another deep breath.

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Sherlock flagged down a taxi and spoke to the driver as she hopped in.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Out for fresh air," he said climbing in next to her.

Ava eyed the dreaded homework book that he'd picked up on the way out. "Why did you bring that with you?"

Sherlock gave her a disappointed look. "So you could do it," he said as if that should have been obvious. He flicked open the book and started to scan through it.

"It's numeracy," she complained. "I hate sums. And number lines."

Sherlock paused and his nose screwed up. "Number lines?"

Ava nodded. "You have to use them. It takes ages."

Sherlock looked a little lost. "Well...you should...attempt the sums using...whatever it was you're meant to use."

"Number-lines."

"Yes that," Sherlock closed the book and laid it on his lap.

"Did you bring a pen?"

Sherlock made that noise again.

"No."

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The first thing Ava saw when she got out of the car was the police tape. And the field. And the flurry of activity in one of the dipping corners of the field.

"What're they doing?" she asked, starting to wander in that direction, only to have the hood of her coat caught.

"Talking," Sherlock said. "This way,"

Instead of walking to the people, they wandered to one of the police cars that the police people seemed to have forgotten about.

Sherlock placed her next to the door. "Don't move," he said and then darted out of sight.

He was back really quickly,
gently moving her to the side and unlocking the car with the key.

"You have a key?" she asked in awe.

Sherlock nodded and gestured for her to climb inside. Her excitement died the second he placed her homework book on her lap.

"But I don't have a pen," she said with what she hoped were puppy-dog eyes. Annoyingly, Sherlock was avoiding her face and leant over to the glove compartment to rummage.

"Here," he said giving her a pen with a logo on it.

She studied it. "Who's Scot?"

Sherlock paused in pulling himself out of the car. "What?"

She showed him the pen. "It says it's Scot Lands Yard."

"Scotland Yard." Sherlock corrected.

"Are we in Scotland then?"

Sherlock winced. "No."

"Are we in a Yard?"

"No-just do your homework, or at least make it look like you tried."

Ava could work with that.

"Here," Sherlock dug a phone that Ava had never seen out of his pocket and handed it to her as he crouched in the space made by the open door . It made him shorter than her for once as he showed her how to scroll through the contacts list.

A lot of the people on the phone started with DS or DI.

"Here," Sherlock showed her his name on the list. "If you need something then send a blank text like this to me. If you see something...worrying then call instead. I'll just be over there," he pointed in some direction she couldn't see due to the angle but she guessed it was probably where all the people were talking.

"What are you going to do?"

"Help them," Sherlock said sounding distracted. "You understand how to use the phone?"

"Can I answer it?"

Sherlock's mouth twitched like Daddy's did sometimes. "Not unless it's me calling. Watch," he instructed as he dug out his own phone and called. Seconds later, the phone in Ava's hand lit up with the word Sherlock.

"That's the only time you answer it," Sherlock said firmly, ending the call.

Ava nodded. "Are we having lunch soon? All the hands are at the top," she said showing him her watch.

Sherlock stared at the watch and then at her. "This won't take long," he assured her. "And, if you're good, you can choose what we eat."

"McDonald's," she told him without needing to even think about it.

"Fine," Sherlock seemed to hesitate and wait.

"Don't you need to go and help them?" she asked.

Sherlock nodded and stood suddenly, his cold hand brushing her cheek gently and then smoothing her hair.

Then he shut the door locking it with the pressy key which made that thumping, whirling racket that Daddy hated, and then she was alone.

Alone in a police car.

It was disappointing. It looked the same as the front of every taxi she'd ever ridden in and every car that had given her and Daddy a lift. Out the window, she could see Sherlock wandering over to the group of people that didn't even look like policemen. Most of them looked like they were wrapped in cling-film or going to a meeting.

Huffing, she sat back and started on her homework. She hadn't been at it more than a minute when the doors clicked unlocked again.

Sherlock opened the door and slotted the key into the ignition, turning it a little. Then he pressed a button that made the window wind down a bit.

"Comfortable?"

"Police cars are boring," she told him sullenly.

"It's dreadfully disappointing, isn't it?" Sherlock agreed. "Remember to text if you have an issue."

Ava nodded and Sherlock closed the door again, locking it.

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The phone had snake on it which was pretty fun and way more interesting than homework.

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The big hand didn't even make it to the bottom before Sherlock marched back towards her.

"...done to the car? You can't go around interfering with police property Sherlock. We've had this discussion before-"

The locks clicked again and Sherlock yanked open the door, holding it so she could slither out.

The man yelling at Sherlock stopped dead.

"What the...why is there a child in the car?" he asked peering down at her. "If this is part of the murder-"

"Mrs Hudson is away," Sherlock explained. "Did you finish your homework?" he asked, turning his attention to Ava.

Ava stared up at him, thought about lying and then dismissed it. "No," she admitted.

"Wait...what...how does that explain anything?" the man demanded.

"She's John's daughter," Sherlock said simply. "He is at work and the school is having some training day."

The man opened and closed his mouth a few times. "You brought a child to a crime scene?"

Sherlock shifted. "I cracked the window for her," he said, sounding a bit defensive.

The man spluttered and Ava took a step closer to Sherlock.

"You promised McDonald's," she reminded him carefully.

"I promised you food from McDonald's, I made no promise about eating at McDonald's," Sherlock muttered, looking at the man with annoyance. "For God's sake Lestrade, as I seem to be more competent at this job than your entire squad, I think I can effectively keep a child occupied for a day."

"Occupied isn't the issue." Lestrade shook his head. "Is John aware you have his daughter?"

"Of course he is," Sherlock snapped. "It could have hardly escaped his notice this morning when he walked out the door that he was leaving her under my watch."

Lestrade glanced down at her and then up again. "Is he aware she's here? At a murder scene?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking her to examine the body. And if you're so concerned about it then I suggest you stop repeating the word murder every other minute."

Lestrade shook his head. "You really are determined to push the limits of friendship with John aren't you?"

Sherlock made an angry noise and stepped forward.

"But Sherlock's Daddy's special friend. That means they can put up with lots more from each other," Ava recited perfectly what her Daddy had told her two weeks ago when Sherlock had driven them all crazy with his sudden fascination for reactions to bad smells.

Or at least that was how Daddy had described the experiments.

Lestrade stared at her. "There are limits-"

"Usually Daddy just kisses Sherlock and then they make up," Ava informed him. "Daddy says it's the only way to get Sherlock to shut up."

Lestrade made a sudden choking noise while Sherlock sighed deeply.

Ava stared up at Sherlock, suddenly worried. "Can I say shut-up if I'm repeating what someone else has said?"

"Inspector," someone called making their way up from the dip of the hill where Sherlock had disappeared earlier. "We've found something."

Ava glanced between Sherlock and Lestrade, not sure who was meant to answer the person, especially as the two men were staring at each other and seemed not to have heard.

"Is everything alright?" A woman came over to them from the dip glancing between the two men. "Sir?" she asked, addressing Lestrade.

"Yes," Lestrade seemed to blink himself out of whatever he'd been thinking. "Yes, what is it?"

"We've found something." One of the cling-film wrapped men came over; though now he was closer she could see it was more like a see through raincoat than anything else.

"We had gathered that Anderson," Sherlock snapped, staring past Lestrade's shoulder and into the distance. Ava took a full step closer to him when she noticed all three of them staring at her. "I assume asking for more detail would be pointless."

And then another step when they all continued to stare, until she was a finger width away from trying to hide under Sherlock's coat.

"You don't want to do that honey," the woman said, suddenly bending over and using a coaxing tone. "Come away from him, he can be a bit of a psycho at times."

"Donovan-" Lestrade begun, his voice clearly warning.

Sherlock's attention snapped back and Ava stared up at his face as he fixed his gaze on Donovan (which was a silly name for a girl in her opinion).

"What?" Donovan asked looking at Lestrade.

"That's John Watson's daughter," Lestrade said sounding suddenly more with it. "Sherlock's babysitting."

A snort erupted from Anderson and Donavan's mouth dropped in disbelief. "What?" she asked as if he'd pointed out goldfish that could talk.

"I'll text you if we find anything. We can wait until this evening when John's back. Take the girl home Sherlock," Lestrade said firmly.

Sherlock's back was poker straight as if he had forgotten how to bend. Ava stared up at him as his jaw twitched and his eyes flicked between the three other grown-ups.

Ava pressed herself into his leg.

The contact seemed to remind him that she was there and he started a bit in surprise. Without a word Sherlock cupped the side of her head and turned to leave, pushing her gently to walk in front of him.

"Watson must be mad," Donovan muttered in response to something one of the men had murmured. "If he leaves her with him too often she'll turn into some sort of mini freak."

Someone snorted in laughter.

Sherlock stopped dead and even as Ava turned to look what he was doing he was moving again. Stalking over to Donovan who looked as if she wanted to swallow back her own tongue.

Ava waited as Sherlock leant over and spoke very softly in Donovan's ear, almost gently. But his clenched fists and her nervous looks were easy to read.

He wasn't being very nice.

When he swung back towards her Ava just watched, tipping her chin up as he came closer and closer.

Without breaking his stride he lifted her up, homework and all and she wrapped her arms around his neck watching the three adults over his shoulder as Sherlock marched them away.

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Sherlock didn't speak during the whole ride back and only asked her what she wanted when they stood at McDonald's He didn't have anything and allowed her to even eat her food there. But it wasn't the same.

He didn't speak when they got into the flat. He barely looked at the flat phone when it rang and rang and rang. He didn't even make the usual annoyed sound when she turned on CBBC.

Ava put up with it for a little while and then flicked through the phone that Sherlock hadn't asked to have back.

There were loads of texts and missed calls and she was glad that Sherlock had put it onto silent. She scrolled through the contacts list until she found John Watson, which she knew was a name some people called Daddy, and called, just like Sherlock had showed her to.

"Lestrade?" Daddy asked, answering on her second try.

"Daddy?"

There was a sound of something dropping and Daddy's voice went funny. "Why...what...why are you using a policeman's phone?"

"Am I?" Ava pulled the phone away from her ear and could hear Daddy's voice though not the words. "It looks just like a normal phone," she told him.

"...are you calling?"

"What?"

She could almost see the deep breath that Daddy took. "Why are you calling me?"

"The police upset Sherlock," she told him. "He won't talk."

"He does that sometimes when he's thinking," Daddy begun sounding as if he was about to tell her she was being silly.

Scowling, Ava shook her head. "He took me to Mcdonald's, let me eat there and didn't say anything rude at all."

There was a very long silence.

"I'm on my way," Daddy said. "Just do some colouring or something."

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Ava heard Daddy come in but stayed in the upstairs room. Sometimes adults didn't like talking when children were around she noticed.

So she narrowed her eyes and kept drawing.

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It was ages later when Daddy came upstairs.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Ava nodded, chewing on her pencil. "I got to sit in a police car."

"I heard," Daddy made it sound as if it must have been an adventure so she didn't tell him that it had actually been a bit boring. She watched as he saw him sit on his bed. "So you weren't scared at all?"

"No." What a silly idea.

Daddy smiled. "What's that you're drawing?"

"I'm doing my homework," she huffed.

"Sherlock said it was sums."

"That was the first bit," Ava said. "They give us more than one bit," she added with a sigh.

"So what's this homework?" Daddy asked sliding of the bed and sitting next to her.

"You have to draw your family," Ava explained, "and say what's special about them."

A funny look crossed Daddy's face. A sad look and he stroked her hair.

"How do you spell fun?" she asked.

"Fun?" Daddy smiled and looked down. He made a funny noise that sounded like a gasp and a cry. In fact he stared at her picture for such a long time that she thought he was mad.

"Is it not good?" she asked worried.

Daddy pulled her into a big hug. "It's a very good picture," he said, "and do you know what?"

"What?"

"I think you should ask Sherlock how to spell fun."

Ava glared up at him. "You know how to spell it," she scolded.

"I think it will cheer Sherlock up."

Huffing, Ava stood and walked to the door.

"Take the picture," Daddy said holing it out to her. "He should see that too."

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Sherlock was standing at the window, the normal sign that he wasn't happy. Ava paused glancing down at the picture in her hand and thinking that Daddy was being really silly in asking this.

"How do you spell fun?" she asked.

Sherlock didn't turn. "What?" he asked.

"Daddy told me to ask you how you spell fun."

"F.U.N," Sherlock said, still not turning and sounding as if she was annoying him.

Ava put the picture on the floor and added the word. As she was struggling with the 'n' a shadow fell over her work.

"What is that?"

"My picture for my homework," Ava huffed. If everyone was so interested in her homework they could at least do it for her. "How do you spell family?"

Sherlock's hand shook very slightly as he twisted the picture around almost ignoring her. He studied it for a long time and then twisted it back to face her.

"Did your father tell you to draw this?"

"No," Ava rolled her eyes. "If you don't know how to spell it I'll ask Daddy."

"Who's this?" Sherlock asked, his finger tracing the blond man.

"Daddy." She craned her neck, trying to see it the way he was. "Is it a bad drawing of Daddy?" she asked, a little worried suddenly.

Sherlock just shook his head. "And what does it say?"

"Good." Ava squinted up at Sherlock who had knelt down opposite her. "Because Daddy's good. He saves people and reads stories and always knows how to fix things."

"And this?" Sherlock seemed almost reluctant to ask.

"You." And because she could guess what he was going to ask she went on. "And you're fun because you do different things and everyone at school is really jealous that I get to ask you questions that adults don't usually answer properly."

Sherlock stared down at the paper. "And this?" he asked in a strange voice.

"That's Mycroft." She was proud she'd remembered to put him in because she didn't see him much but if he was Sherlock's brother he had to be in the picture. "I'm not sure what to put for him," she confessed tilting her head. "It's hard."

"And there's Mrs Hudson," she added when Sherlock was silent. "And she's kind because she lets us eat her food and sometimes tidies up after us even though she doesn't have to."

Sherlock nodded but she couldn't see his face.

"And that's me." She scowled at the picture of herself because it had to be short and have silly curly hair that looked messy unlike Sherlock's curly hair that always looked much nicer. Maybe Daddy would let her change her hair colour like one of the teachers at school did.

"And there's Auntie Harry," she pointed out the figure at one of the top corners. "And she's in heaven so she has to be nice."

Sherlock looked up at her sharply. His eyes were really bright and he looked like he needed a hug.

"I didn't like the police. They were mean," she told him, hoping that would make him feel better.

Sherlock didn't move but kept looking at her really carefully.

"Daddy," Ava shouted up. "I don't think Sherlock knows how to spell family."

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After that, Sherlock suddenly seemed okay. In fact he seemed very put out that she thought he couldn't spell and sat there with her as she drew another picture under his instructions so that she could do all the spellings perfectly.

And add in that Mycroft was silly. Sherlock wanted to put stupid or foolish or short sighted or idiotic but Daddy put his foot down at that.

When she looked in her homework book before school the next day there was only the copied picture in there; the original had vanished.

Daddy didn't seem surprised.

Chapter 4: Changing Rooms

Summary:

When John moves into Sherlock's room Ava is surprised that not everyone at school shares her thoughts on the idea.

Notes:

Warnings: Homophobic comments and bullying does occur. I will also warn that explanation given to Ava is very, very simplistic and that it's not intended to simplify the issue but rather to make it understandable to a five year old.

30th January

Daddy was moving out.

Ava watched as he fiddled with the bed, doing something that he assured her would not end up with the bed falling on him.

"So I get this whole room?" she asked, just to double check.

"Yes, for the last time, you get the whole room to yourself," Daddy didn't even bother looking at her this time.

"And I can paint it whatever colour I want to?"

The length of the sigh that erupted from him told her that she was very close to annoying him. Which was strange really, it usually it took a lot more than what she was doing to annoy him.

"Do you not want to sleep in Sherlock's room?" she asked touching her knees to her chin, where she perched on her bed, "Because you don't have to if you don't want to. Mrs Parker says that you shouldn't always do what people tell you to do because then you could end up doing something really bad like smoking."

Daddy crawled back out from under the bed and dumped the screwdriver on the floor. "I do want to sleep in Sherlock's room," he said in a way that told her that was not how he would have phrased it. "But..." Daddy scrubbed a hand over his face, "It's a very big step to take."

Ava thought about pointing out that it was actually a lot of steps to get downstairs, but didn't say anything. "Because you don't usually share a room with him?" she asked not sure if she was understanding it right.

But Daddy blinked and nodded in the way he sometimes did when Sherlock pointed out something clever. "In a way," he sat on the bed next to her. "It's a bit...official," he said pulling her into a hug. "I'll have no-where to go when we have a disagreement."

Ava tilted her head. "Does that mean you'll have to stop having disagreements?" she asked, snuggling into him.

"No..." Daddy smiled. "It probably just means you'll see one of us on the sofa sometimes."

Ava rolled her eyes. "Sherlock's always on the sofa."

Daddy nodded. "And long may it stay that way," he grinned.

Ava grinned back at him, not really sure why they were grinning but liking that Daddy seemed to be pleased.

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31st January

The next day at school started like any other. Daddy dropped her off and reminded her to hand in her lunch money. She had apple slices at break time and got a very nice sticker for her spelling test.

Then it started to get different.

"I'm allowed to paint it whatever colour I want," Ava said proudly to Hannah who smiled back.

"My mummy never says that," Hannah said with a sigh. "But she did let me pick the curtains,"

Ava settled back with a smirk. "Daddy said I could choose anything now that he's in Sherlock's room."

Tommy Barrons overheard that and looked over from his lunch. "Isn't that the funny man who told you about eyeballs?"

Ava nodded. "But you can't ever tell my Daddy about that," she reminded him.

"Well, where's Sherlock gone?" Hannah asked seriously, wrinkling her nose at the problem.

"Nowhere," Ava shrugged. "Well, he went to Scotland yesterday to talk to the mean police men but he usually pops there."

"You're lying, Scotland's ages away," Tommy huffed.

"No it isn't. I've been there." There was a slight nagging feeling that she may have gotten mixed up somewhere along the way with that but she shrugged it away.

"So your Daddy is sharing a room with another boy?" Hannah asked.

"Yes," Ava said it using Sherlock's exact tone when she knew he wanted to say 'so what?' but Sherlock had said that it was politer to say yes.

Daddy had made a funny noise at that.

"Isn't that strange?" Hannah asked licking her yoghurt spoon.

Ava shrugged. "Most people who kiss share rooms," she pointed out.

Hannah nodded and shrugged too and Tommy seemed far more interested in pointing out that he'd been to Scotland too and he'd needed a plane to get there.

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The playground was one of the best places in the school. There was even a place behind one of the walls where a family of snails could be seen.

It was really gross, but sort of cool at the same time.

"Did you say your Dad kisses blokes?"

Ava turned around warily from where she and Maeve had been looking at the snail. It was Sean Tenner, one of the bigger boys who always looked a bit scary when she passed him in the halls.

"Yeah?" she said tilting her head to the side.

"Is he a faggot then?"

Ava had no idea what the word meant but the tone he used suggested he wasn't being nice. "No."

"He is, isn't he?"

Ava darted a look at the other children who were watching with interest.

"Don't be mean about my Daddy," she settled for saying, tilting her jaw in a way that would have made Daddy sigh had he been there.

"My Dad says that people like your Daddy are gonna go to hell 'cause they're freaks."

Ava felt a shiver of fear run through her as she remembered what the mean police woman last month had said to Sherlock and how upset he'd been. "Well he's mean then," she hissed.

He took a step towards her and she was suddenly very aware of how much taller he was than her and that she couldn't see any teachers from her position behind one of the school huts. But Daddy was shorter than lots of people and she'd never seen him back down from a fight.

Even if he'd come home that one time with all those bruises. And he and Sherlock constantly seemed to be standing up to mean people who did wrong things.

So she refused to step backwards. Even if her heart was thudding in her ears and David Mooreland, Sean's best friend, was stepping forward as well. And Even if Maeve had suddenly pressed herself against the wall as if to hide and was watching with huge, frightened eyes.

"You've got that sickness as well haven't you? My Dad says that queers always pass bad things on," he sneered. "Better not touch you, else I might catch it."

Tears blurred her eyes and she struggled to say something. Sherlock always managed to say something.

But nothing was coming out and she was scared that if she opened her mouth she might cry.

He shoved her.

Hard enough that she crashed to the floor and looked up in shock.

But that seemed to have been enough for him and he turned back to David muttering something to him.

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That night when Mrs Hudson picked her up she thought about asking her about what Sean had said. But she was terrified that Mrs Hudson might get mad.

And Daddy and Sherlock were working on a case, which meant that Daddy looked shattered and Sherlock was thinking.

So she just kept quiet.

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1st February

The next day things were worse.

No-one talked to her.

No-one went near her.

"Is everything alright?" Mrs Parker asked, looking over at Sean Tenner with a funny look on her face.

Ava was about to tell her when she suddenly remembered that everyone had been fine with her until she'd opened her big mouth and told them that Sherlock and Daddy lived in the same room.

Maybe it was meant to be a secret.

And what if Mrs Parker got mad too?

So Ava nodded.

And when Sean, David and Grant Butler said more bad things about Daddy and Sherlock she just kept quiet, not wanting to make it worse. Because Sherlock said that stupid people tended to forget things if they didn't think about them, so maybe if she just kept quiet they'd all forget why they were so upset in the first place.

She really hoped they forgot soon.

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They were still working on their case. Sherlock didn't even make it home for tea because he was following a lead in his usual way and Daddy seemed half asleep as he dished up the pasta.

"You're very quiet tonight," Daddy said halfway through the meal.

She thought about telling him, but what if he didn't know? What if Sean was right and Daddy was going to be punished for sleeping in Sherlock's room? She didn't want to upset him. And what if he was mad at her for telling people?

"Don't feel well," she tried.

Daddy looked concerned and swept his eyes over her. "Why? What's wrong?"

"My tummy hurts." And it did. She'd felt it clench with worry all day.

Daddy took her temperature and checked her stomach with a frown.

"You're fine Ava," he said.

"No I'm not. I'm sick," she insisted.

Daddy took a deep breath. "If you really feel that bad then maybe you should go to bed early."

She went without protest.

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But she couldn't get to sleep. She was even awake when Sherlock came home at some silly hour of the morning.

She leapt out of bed and flew down the stairs.

Sherlock would know what to do. Sherlock solved problems like this. And the bad police woman had said one of those horrible words to him, so Ava thought he might know more about it than Daddy did.

Sherlock was texting someone when she peeped into the living room. He was sitting in the armchair with the light on, taking a sip of that disgusting brown stuff he sometimes likes to drink in a posh glass.

There must have been a noise or something because he started and turned to look at her.

And looked at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked putting the drink and phone down.

Eyes welling, she raced over to him and flung herself at him. Arms immediately wrapped around her and pulled her properly onto his lap, hiding her from the world and the bad words.

"Shush," Sherlock soothed rocking them gently and pressing a kiss to her hair. "I'll get John"_

Ava shook her head fiercely. "No," she hissed between sobs. "You can't tell him, you can't, you can't, you can't."

Sherlock wrapped her back up in his arms again and shushed her. "Calm down. Shush, it's all right. Just breathe." Long, cold fingers touched her chin and made her look up at him. His face twitched as he studied her and pulled away a little. "Tell me then," he said.

"You'll be upset," her voice wobbled as she suddenly rethought her plan. Sherlock had been hurt when they'd talked to the police; maybe he'd get upset again and stop talking.

One of his eyes narrowed. "Tell me," he instructed.

Ava sniffed.

Sherlock just waited. It seemed like hours as he just sat there, letting her cry into his shirt. But he didn't let go or get annoyed with her and he didn't ask her anything.

"You won't get mad?" she asked eventually.

"Not with you," Sherlock stroked her hair. "Never with you."

"Promise?" she whispered.

"Promise, he agreed.

"No-one at school wants to talk to me," she sniffed, "I didn't mean to tell, I didn't. I really didn't and now I've made everything bad."

Sherlock glanced at the ceiling slightly and then back at her. "If you're having problems with your friends-" he stared to say, then suddenly stopped and drew back a little. "What do you mean you didn't mean to tell?"

Ava bit her lip, "Sh...Sh..." she shook her head and Sherlock cupped her face with both his hands, gently making her look at him in the eye.

"Tell me," he said looking more focused than she'd ever seen him look.

"Sean Tenner said you and Daddy are going to go to hell because Daddy sleeps in your room."

Sherlock froze.

"I didn't meant to tell," she started to sob. "I didn't and now everyone knows and they're mean to you and it's all my fault." Huge, racking sobs wrenched their way out and she couldn't have been quiet even if she'd remembered to try.

Sherlock pulled her tight against him and stood up, carrying her. She just curled her fist around his shirt and held on for dear life as she sobbed her heart out.

And then Daddy was there and she went to him without protest, tucking her head under his chin and breathing in his smell even as he tried to calm her down and talk to her.

"I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to," she sobbed over and over again.

Eventually she cried herself out and just succumbed to sleep as she let her head dip on his shoulder to the sound of heated whispers.

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2nd February

When she woke she was tucked between the two of them. They were both awake and she could hear their quiet murmurs but not the words. But they seemed to know she was awake because they both went very quiet.

Daddy pressed a gentle kiss to her head. "No more tears," he said in the softest voice he had. "You haven't done anything wrong."

Wriggling, she looked up at him and saw how tired he looked. Slumping she stared at the bed-sheet and the checkered pattern made of blues and greens.

Above her she could feel Daddy lean back on the pillow and look at Sherlock. The next thing she knew, Sherlock had scooted down the bed so that their faces were opposite each other, nose to nose.

She refused to look at him and studied the bed ever harder.

"What did they say?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

Ava shrugged.

"Do we have to have this conversation again?" Sherlock huffed. "You are more than capable of putting your thoughts into words."

Puzzled that he was acting normally, Ava glanced up. Sherlock didn't look tired or upset.

He looked...almost hungry.

She chewed on the inside of her mouth thoughtfully.

"Or do you think they're right?" he asked her raising an eyebrow.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, but Sherlock always said that you had to be sure of the facts before you made a judgement.

"I don't know," she said in a small voice that sounded strange to her ears.

"You don't know?" Sherlock asked, as if they were discussing her homework. Above her, Daddy started to stroke her hair but stayed quiet.

"I didn't understand some of the words," she said. "So I don't know."

Sherlock nodded, something like a strange form of approval hovering over his face. He glanced up once at Daddy as if he was asking something.

Then looked back at Ava.

"What were the words?"

"Faggot," she said and watched something in his face jump. "Queer, freak, bastards, damned."

Sherlock snapped his head up to look at Daddy.

"They're children Sherlock," Daddy said after a moment, still stroking her hair.

"They learned it somewhere," Sherlock snapped.

Ava watched him worried that he was going to tell her off, or worse stop talking again. Her bottom lip started to tremble.

Seeing it Sherlock seemed to take a deep breath and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Ava stayed on her side watching him and snuggling backwards into her Daddy.

No-one said anything for a long time.

"It means they think we're wrong," Sherlock said still staring at the ceiling. "That we shouldn't love each other."

Daddy made a sudden jolting movement that had both Ava and Sherlock turning to look at him.

Sherlock flopped back down in frustration. "That can hardly have come as a surprise John," he sounded ticked off.

"Sentiment," Daddy said in a strange almost teasing and breathless way.

Sherlock snorted. "Touché." He drew in a deep breath as if he was going to say something but let it out again seconds later.

Ava rolled that idea over in her mind as they all lay silent again.

"Why?" she asked eventually.

"Because it isn't normal," Sherlock replied staring up still.

"Sherlock-" Daddy sounded as if he was about to launch into something, as if he were hurt and worried.

But Sherlock glanced over at him in exasperation. "In the most literal meaning of the word; it is not what the majority of people do," he huffed. "People have such dull connotations of normal."

"I don't understand," Ava whispered after a moment.

"It's different and people don't like difference," Sherlock tapped his fingers on his chest.

Ava turned to look at Daddy, still not understanding.

Daddy tapped her nose and drew in a breath. "How many people at school wear glasses?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said confused as to what that had to do with anything.

"Not many?" Daddy asked. "More of the children at school don't wear glasses right?"

Ava nodded.

"And those that do can get teased. They're called-" he seemed to rack his brains for a moment, "-four eyes or something?"

Ava nodded slowly.

"It's just like that. It's a bit different to what most people do and so some people don't know how to act. It's not better or worse, just different."

Ava squinted at him.

"Is that it?" she asked sitting up.

Daddy tilted his head to the side and nodded. "That's it."

"That's stupid," she said frowning. "So they were just being mean? Because people don't go to hell or get arrested for wearing glasses."

"No they don't." Daddy was watching her as if waiting for something.

"That's the most ridiculous metaphor I've ever heard," Sherlock started to complain.

"Shut up Sherlock," Daddy said nicely. "She's five, it worked."

Ava glanced between the two. "What about the names?"

Daddy smiled with a bit too much effort. "They're just a lot of mean words for men who like men or women who like women."

Ava chewed that over for a moment. "Mrs Parker says you're meant to try and like everyone."

Daddy smiled. "I'm not sure that's quite what Mrs Parker meant when she said that."

Ava looked around and caught sight of the clock on one of the bedside tables. "I'm missing school," she gasped.

"Don't worry about it; we need to have a chat-"

"But I have to go and tell them that they're being really stupid," Ava huffed. "Especially the Year Five boys."

"No," Daddy started sounding suddenly annoyed. "That's not what-"

"She's right, they are being stupid," Sherlock said from where he still lay.

Daddy pulled a face. "I'm not having my daughter walk back into school as a one child strong, gay pride army…" he trailed off and looked at her. "Wait, Year Five boys?"

"What's a gay pride army?" Ava asked curious.

"That's not important," Daddy said precisely. "We're talking about the Year Five boys."

"Why?"

"What happened between you and the Year Five boys?"

"John, you really are focusing on that far too much_"

"It means they're about nine years old," Daddy said without looking away from Ava.

Sherlock twisted round to look at Ava and didn't say another word.

"They said bad things about you and tried to make me cry," she said, annoyed when she thought about it. "And then Sean tried to make me back down."

Sherlock looked up at Daddy with a strange expression on his face.

"And then he shoved me and I fell on my bum," Ava huffed. "And he laughed."

Daddy clicked his tongue as he stared at her. "Anything else?"

"And he made the whole school not talk to me because they might catch something."

Daddy's jaw cracked and he looked at the door as if trying not to yell.

"My idea doesn't seem like such an overreaction now, is it?" Sherlock said looking at Ava as if she might be hiding something behind her ears.

Daddy made an irritated sound. "Sherlock, we are not..." he trailed off when he saw Ava listening. "No." he finished firmly. But he shifted to get off the bed.

"Do not go down to the school John," Sherlock warned.

"One of us has to," Daddy hissed. "And as I'm the sane one in this relationship_"

"I'm not the one with a history of a..." Sherlock glanced at Ava, "…a trigger finger."

"You'll have half the school in therapy by the lunch bell," Daddy protested, opening the wardrobe.

"I was thinking more along the lines of Lestrade," Sherlock said, sitting up and next to Ava.

Daddy paused. "Lestrade?"

"Yes, I would say Mycroft but I'm still not talking to him." Sherlock shrugged as if that were normal.

Which, when Ava thought about it, it was for them.

"You want to send a Police Inspector to the school?" Daddy asked closing the wardrobe and leaning against the door.

"It's my civic duty," Sherlock said sounding innocent.

"Civic duty?" Daddy parroted, not sounding convinced.

"Why John, I'm deeply concerned about the blatant homophobia shown by the students. It would be a shame if they didn't learn their lesson while they still had a chance to mend their ways."

Daddy smiled like a wolf. "I imagine that would probably scare quite a few of them."

"Indeed." Sherlock sounded pleased at the idea.

Daddy nodded. "My daughter, I get to go with Lestrade."

"It's my plan," Sherlock protested.

Daddy narrowed his eyes. "I do all the shopping."

"I..." Sherlock floundered. "I keep life interesting."

"Well we can't both go," Daddy said. "That would just put the fear of god in them."

Sherlock pulled Ava into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. "Wouldn't that be a crying shame?" he said, and not sounding at all like that would be a problem for him.

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6th February

Ava went back to school three days later. Everyone was back to normal; in fact everyone was really nice to her.

"Your Dad was in the army," Tommy said with awe. "He can and will shoot people,"

"And you never said that Sherlock was friends with police men and catches bad guys," Hannah added.

Ava tilted her head. "It's his job," she shrugged. "It's boring."

David actually came up to her and said sorry.

Sean and Grant wouldn't even look in her direction.

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7th February

"Daddy?" Ava stood with her hands on her hips like Mrs Parker did when she was mad.

"Yes?" Daddy tapped his hardboiled egg with a spoon, breaking the top off perfectly.

"Did you tell people you could shoot them?"

Daddy shook his head, not pausing in what he was doing. "I never said that."

Ava tapped her foot and glanced between Daddy and Sherlock, who was reading the paper as he ate toast.

"Tommy thinks you're cool because you were in the army."

"Oh to have had a boy," Daddy muttered. "I assume you still think that the army is silly?"

"They're always muddy on the television," Ava complained.

Daddy huffed as he cut his toast and used a spoon to smear some of the egg on his slice. "It's camouflage," he said under his breath.

Sherlock's mouth twitched in amusement. He hid it with the paper when Ava glared at him.

"George Roberts said that if anyone picks on me they'll disappear in the middle of the night."

Daddy turned slowly to Sherlock who just lifted the paper higher in response.

"Has anyone picked on you?" he asked spreading the egg again.

"No," Ava replied.

"So you're complaining that no-one's picking on you?" he asked, putting the spoon down.

"No…" That wasn't the point.

"So you're not complaining?" he took a bite of his toast with a smile.

Ava stared, completely confused, then stamped her foot and wandered off.

"In the middle of the night?" she heard Daddy ask as she walked out.

"Without hesitation," Sherlock drawled.

Chapter 5: Bang, Bang

Summary:

Ava is supicious when Mrs Hudson picks her up crying. Especially as Fridays are Daddy's day to pick her up.

Notes:

This is where the fic "Tea and Coffee" begins (Mycroft's pov)

6th March

Mrs Hudson had been crying when she'd picked Ava up. Sherlock had been teaching her how to spot it and she had all the classic signs. The red-rimmed eyes, the handkerchief stuffed in her pocket, the trembling voice.

Then there was the fact that she was still crying.

"Daddy's meant to pick me up today," she told Mrs Hudson, as if they might have forgotten that Fridays were Daddy's afternoons to pick her up. Sometimes with Sherlock now and they'd all go somewhere to eat because, according to Sherlock, Daddy's cooking was no way to start a weekend.

That made Mrs Hudson sob even harder.

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No-one would tell her what was going on. Not that there was anyone really to ask but it was pretty obvious something had happened and no-one seemed to know what to say.

She wasn't allowed to go upstairs. Mrs Hudson almost screamed at Ava when she tried.

Something was very, very wrong.

And when Daddy didn't come in, laughing and rolling his eyes and when Sherlock didn't huff up the stairs, talking at the speed Ava could never follow, she knew it was bad.

But no-one would tell her what was happening.

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The door slammed shut.

The front door.

One of them was home.

Ava crept to the door of Mrs Hudson's spare room and listened. Whoever it was walked up the stairs slowly and precisely. When Ava peered round her door she could see the shadow of Mrs Hudson in her dressing gown hesitating at the kitchen door before she leant her head against it in defeat and went back to bed.

Ave gave it a few minutes and then crept into the kitchen, through the door, to the stairs and up them, avoiding the creaky ones like Sherlock had shown her.

There were no lights on but there was a funny smell. Coppery and metallic, it smelt like the bag of ears she had once spotted Daddy trying to hide when they were looking through the fridge for custard.

Scared, she stepped into the room.

Sherlock was bent over the coffee table, kneeling on the floor and arms as wide as he could reach to cover the length of the table. His head was bowed and shoulders seemed to be made of stone as he stared down at something on the table. The light from the window made him look like something out of the art gallery that Daddy had never bothered taking her to again.

The room was a mess. Things had been knocked over and upturned. There was glass on the floor and Daddy's laptop was smashed to pieces.

And there was a dark stain on the floor.

Ava drew in a wobbly breath, suddenly terrified.

"Out," Sherlock enunciated perfectly.

Ava couldn't move.

"I said 'get out'." Sherlock didn't raise his voice but rather clipped his words with even more harshness.

"Where's Daddy?" she asked, her legs glued to the spot.

"Get out, get out, get out, get out," Sherlock started to repeat over and over under his breath as if it were a mantra his life depended on.

"Where's-"

"Dying," Sherlock suddenly roared. "Stupid man. Stupid idiotic man took that damned bullet because he couldn't wait...the bloody minded fool-"

Everything stopped.

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She wasn't sure why she ran.

Ran away from his words, because he told her to get out, because she needed to, somehow, find Daddy and prove that Sherlock, for once, was wrong.

Completely and utterly wrong.

She flew down the stairs and saw the light go on in Mrs Hudson's kitchen.

"He's dying."

She headed for the front door, yanking it open with a speed she'd usually have been impressed with. She had no idea how she managed it.

It was cold. Freezing cold and she was still only wearing her pajamas. It would have knocked her breath away had she any left.

And the pavement was so hard compared to the soft carpet inside. It slapped her feet as she somehow ran down the steps, her breath sounding so loud in the quiet of the early morning.

She flew up the street, not caring that it hurt her feet or that Daddy had told her to never, ever leave the building without an adult she knew.

"He's dying."

She barely made it to the top when something grabbed her from behind, lifting her clean off her feet. She twisted, furiously wanting to keep running. But the arms wouldn't let her and the coat flapped around them as if desperate to give her some warmth.

"I didn't mean it," Sherlock whispered harshly. "I didn't mean it." He staggered as if he'd been hit by something and she struggled even harder when she smelt copper and salt and horror instead of his usual smells.

"He's not dying," she said as she wriggled and scratched at him trying to escape. She'd show him that Daddy wasn't dying because any minute now he'd come storming down the road and yell at her for not following the rules.

And it would be worth it to prove to Sherlock that he wasn't dying.

"No, no he's not," Sherlock twisted her to face him and overbalanced, ending up on his bum and holding her in his lap. His hands caught her struggling arms and his forefinger curled under her chin to make her look at him.

He had red rimmed eyes as well.

"Because we won't let him will we?" Sherlock was asking her. "And if we won't let him die then he won't." He swallowed deeply. "Will he?"

He actually seemed to be asking her. "He always does what you say," she said uncertainly.

A weak smile appeared briefly before Sherlock was pulling her back against his chest and they held on to each other for dear life.

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Mrs Hudson was waiting for them at the top of the steps by the front door, wrapped in her dressing gown, tears streaming down her face.

Sherlock didn't say anything as he carried Ava and Ava found that she couldn't say anything to Mrs Hudson either.

She did tighten her fingers on Sherlock though, enough to let him know that she'd kick up hell if he tried to put her in that spare room on her own.

Sherlock tightened his grip on her as well and headed for the stairs.

"You can't take her up there, I haven't cleaned it," Mrs Hudson started to protest.

But Sherlock continued up the stairs until they got to the living room and then just collapsed against the door.

Neither of them slept. Ava wasn't really sure what they were doing but Sherlock just sat and shook for the entire night, his eyes fixed on the table and arms digging into her so tight she thought she might have bruises.

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9th March

When morning came Sherlock shifted her gently off his lap and padded over to the kitchen, staring at the kettle as if he'd forgotten how to use it. Ava watched him, wanting to ask what happened to Daddy but scared that he'd get upset again.

She jumped when he threw the kettle at the wall.

It shattered. Bits flying everywhere while Ava watched wide-eyed.

Sherlock slumped against the counters. "Go...wash your face and do your teeth."

Ava went without argument but did it as quickly as she thought she could get away with. Sherlock was far too upset to be left on his own.

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When she got back down Sherlock was crouched by the remains of the kettle, holding pieces of it in his long hands and staring at it as if it were the world's greatest and most confusing puzzle.

"We'll get him a new one with a posh filter," she said stepping forward slowly.

Sherlock nodded distractedly. "He might believe that," she said after a moment.

Not sure what there was to believe about buying a kettle Ava looked over to the table. Sherlock must have brought something back from the hospital because he had a needle and syringe like when they gave her a jab at school to stop her getting the mumpy.

Or whatever it was called.

Sherlock was still staring at the kettle so she wandered over to have a look. Halfway there, she stopped, spotting someone in the doorway.

It was Sherlock's big brother and he was staring at the objects on the table with disgust.

"I see you managed to sort out the important things," Mycroft drawled, stepping in to the room.

Ava stayed where she was. The only times she'd really seen Mycroft, people had started yelling and he got snappy.

She'd tell him off he was snappy to Sherlock now. Even if it meant he'd snap at her.

"Go away Mycroft," Sherlock said, but it sounded nothing like it usually did when he said that.

Mycroft cleared his throat. "So I should leave the child to inspect your...score," he said the word as if it was dirty just to say it.

Sherlock snapped his head round to Ava and then to the table, standing slowly.

"Come here," he said holding out the free hand that wasn't holding a piece of kettle. When she reached him he cupped her head and let her bury her face in his hip, blocking her sight of the room and Mycroft. "Now you may leave," he said to Mycroft with a little more of his usual bite.

"Have you even been back to the hospital?" Mycroft asked, sounding as if he'd come further into the room rather than leaving it.

"I.." Sherlock's fingers tightened slightly, "I'm watching Ava."

"I have people that can do that, that can take her away so you can_"

"Leave," Sherlock growled. "Right now. Get into that car and go, right now."

"Don't be dramatic-"

"Dramatic?" Sherlock sounded as if he'd been kicked. "Dramatic?"

"Someone needs to watch her-"

"I am watching her."

"-and it is not your responsibility-"

"Yes it is," Sherlock roared suddenly.

There was a long silence but Sherlock wouldn't let her turn her head to look.

"Sherlock-" Mycroft sounded hurt or amazed or disbelieving. She couldn't decide which one, buried into Sherlock's un-tucked shirt.

"She's mine," Sherlock said tightly. "Mine and John's. And in every way that matters, she's mine."

And despite the fact that Daddy was in the hospital and Sherlock was upset and Mycroft was here and Mrs Hudson was probably still crying, Ava felt a huge warm glow burn in her tummy.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked huffing as Mycroft walked. She could hear his footsteps.

"Disposing of this," Mycroft said in a strange voice. "I assume you weren't planning on leaving it here all day."

Sherlock took a slow, deep breath and let it out. "If you sell it on I want to be compensated. It wasn't cheap."

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10th March

Sherlock left her with Mrs Hudson when he went to see Daddy. He would take her pictures and cards without any argument or comment and say hardly anything when he got back. Mrs Hudson had her when he went to see the police and once when Mycroft came back and they went off somewhere in that big expensive car together.

Daddy and Sherlock had been attacked and Daddy had been shot. But he was doing ok now and the doctors said he'd be back to normal again soon.

Sherlock didn't even sneer when he repeated that.

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12th March

The hospital was white and stark and smelt far too clean to be good for people. But it was ok because she was going to see Daddy for the first time in ages and Sherlock was holding her hand as they walked through the halls. He never tended to hold her hand, saying that she was more than capable of walking in a straight line without his help, but he'd held her hand ever since that night.

Mrs Hudson had given them both a funny look the first time she'd seen it. And then she'd made a sound that had Sherlock tutting and glaring at the ceiling as if it were to blame for the things Mrs Hudson did.

"Are we supposed to bring grapes?" Ava asked as they walked.

"Why would we?" Sherlock asked, turning them down another corridor in a way that showed he'd already memorised the route.

Ava peered up at him. "I don't know. People do it the films Mrs Hudson watches."

"All the more reason not to," Sherlock muttered as they turned again and then stopped at a room door.

Sherlock seemed to be taking a deep breath and his hand tightened on hers a little bit.

"Ah, Mr Holmes? Might I have a word?"

Sherlock turned and then glanced down at Ava.

"Can I go in?" she asked in a quiet voice that was meant for museums and churches.

Sherlock glanced at the door again and then nodded.

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It was darker inside the room, as if they'd turned the light down. It smelt funny and the bed didn't look comfortable.

But all of that faded away the second she spotted Daddy.

Scared, she stepped forward, not sure that she was in the right room. He looked thin. Really thin and so fragile and small. All white and grey and faded which wasn't at all like her Daddy. He was cosy and he had silly jumpers and he laughed.

She got as close as she dared to, trying to work out how to make him back to the way he normally looked.

With a timid touch she reached out for the hand closest to her and spread her own hand out against his hand. They weren't as long or as graceful as Sherlock's but they were still big hands; solid hands with scars and hard bits.

They were still much bigger than hers.

When she looked back up at his face she almost jumped when she saw his eyes were open and he was watching her as if she was about to fall down.

"Hi," she said, feeling strangely shy.

Daddy shifted slightly, "Come here," he said.

Nervously she edged closer, not sure what to do.

Daddy shifted again and then raised his arm slowly to cup the nape of her neck. As he did, she could feel her lip starting to tremble and hated the fact that she was starting to cry when he was the one who'd been hurt.

Daddy frowned and removed his hand, using his knuckles to gently wipe away a tear.

"Missed you," he said, his own eyes bright.

She moved forward to hug him and then stopped, scared that she would hurt him. But Daddy was already pulling her forward, encouraging her up.

And then she was tucked into his side, his nose pressed deep into her hair and his arm shielding her from the edge of the bed.

"Did I scare you?" he asked after a while.

She nodded.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered and his arm tightened a bit. "I'm so, so, so sorry."

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Sherlock came in later, sticking to the walls as if he'd been super glued to them.

"Do you want me to move her?" he asked after a while.

"Try it," Daddy suggested in a way that had Sherlock staying exactly where he was. Over Daddy's stomach Ava could see Sherlock seemingly flatten himself against the wall, almost hidden in the room's shadows.

They were all so quiet.

For the first time since that night, Ava fell asleep without any effort.

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"...do that to her? To me?" Daddy asked in her dream.

"I wasn't thinking-"

"You? Not thinking? You never not think Sherlock."

"I didn't think_"

"That was made abundantly clear," Daddy snarled.

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When Ava woke up, Sherlock had gone and Daddy was glaring at the door.

"Where's Sherlock gone?" she asked sleepily, the dream fading from her mind.

"I don't know," Daddy said pulling her closer.

"Is he coming back?" she asked.

"I don't care," Daddy snapped but he tightened his hold on her.

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Someone picked her up when she fell asleep again because the next time she woke up she was curled up on one of the comfy chairs with a coat on top of her.

Sherlock's coat.

She peeked over the top of it and saw Sherlock leaning over Daddy, their foreheads pressed together as Sherlock said something very quietly while tears ran down his face.

Sherlock never cried.

Ever.

Feeling bad for peeking, Ava ducked back under the coat again.

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12th March

The next time they visited Daddy, Sherlock was a lot happier. He'd allowed her to bring a card, not the five she wanted to bring but still it was better than last time. And he bought her a sweet on the way to the hospital.

Curly-Whirly's were brilliant! And Sherlock had let her have at least one every day that week.

When they got into Daddy's room the police man...Lestrade...was there, talking to him.

"Sherlock," Lestrade said with a nod. "And I remember this little one," he sounded much nicer than last time.

Ava tried to say something but the Curly-Whirly made it hard to talk and chew. She looked away, focusing on trying to get rid of the mouthful before Daddy told her off for speaking with her mouth full.

The adults talked about something in a way that meant she wasn't supposed to listen. She would have told them off but it was hard to talk when toffee clamped her teeth together.

Daddy's eyes kept flickering to her, then to Sherlock, and then to her again.

"Yes?" Sherlock asked during a lull in their conversation.

Daddy was starting to grin. "I can't decide if that's evil or brilliant!" he said shaking his head.

Lestrade looked confused for a moment and then caught Ava's eye. "Yeah, he's been boasting about that one all week."

Ava looked at them all, sure that they were talking about her but not really sure what they were saying.

Daddy suddenly looked thoughtful. "All week?"

"Some of the week," Sherlock corrected.

"Most of the week," Lestrade said with a cheerful smile.

"Ava how many of those have you had?" Daddy asked leaning back in the bed.

Ava chewed, trying to work the most recent bite out of her mouth.

"Use your fingers," Daddy suggested.

Ave stared down at her hands and counted them out. She ended up holding up all of her fingers except one thumb.

Daddy huffed. "You're paying for the dentist bill," he said with a glare at Sherlock.

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She'd finished her Curly-Whirly in time to say goodbye to Lestrade before he left. He even ruffled her hair and told her that she was a very brave girl.

Well, he said brave little girl, but she chose to ignore the middle part.

"Can I show Daddy my card now?" she asked Sherlock.

Sherlock nodded, taking a seat in the corner.

Daddy liked the card a lot and made her explain everything and praised her spelling because she had done most of it without Sherlock's help.

"When are you coming home?" she asked.

Daddy smiled. "Soon," he said gently setting the card on the table next to him with a wince while Sherlock watched like a hawk.

"But when?" she asked knowing that soon could mean any time. Especially if you were talking to Sherlock.

"I don't know yet," Daddy shifted looking uncomfortable. "The doctors haven't decided yet."

"But you're a doctor. Can't you tell them?"

"No," Daddy smiled even as he pulled another face.

Sherlock stood and did something with the pillows that made Daddy sigh and relax. When he moved to go back to his seat Daddy caught his hand. Without a word Sherlock just dragged a seat over and sat on it without letting go.

Ava bit her lip and glanced at the door, not sure what to do.

"Ava," Sherlock said beckoning her over to him. When she got to him he pulled her onto his lap and shifted them both closer to Daddy.

She fell asleep watching Daddy stroke the pad of his thumb over the back of Sherlock's hand.

Chapter 6: Aftermath

Summary:

With Daddy finally out of hospital, Sherlock takes them all away to the countryside for a case.

30th March

Sherlock stared out of the window for most of the taxi ride home while Ava told Daddy what they'd been up to.

"And we had chips for breakfast."

Daddy raised an eyebrow. "Really? From that oven?" he asked flashing a grin at Sherlock.

Sherlock stared out the window, seemingly miles away in his head.

"Where else would they come from in the morning?" Ava asked curiously. "None of the fishy and chips shops would answer."

Daddy's mouth twitched but, when he looked at Sherlock he seemed to become serious again.

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"….go out."

"You're still recovering."

Ava paused on the stairs.

"And you're going mad being cooped up in here," Daddy sounded firm, "Go and annoy Lestrade or insult Anderson or terrify people on the tube. Or better yet go on one of those cases you've been trying to solve via email."

"I can manage-"

"So can I," Daddy said sounding very firm now. "And you'll never survive two full weeks with me and Ava in the house all the time."

"I will," Sherlock insisted as Ava rounded the corner.

"New kettle?" Daddy asked sounding amused.

Sherlock stalked over to the sofa and opened up the lap top. Ava eyed up the chair and cushions that Daddy was sitting in.

"Mycroft said you should tell him that you thought he was getting rusty," Ava said.

Daddy pulled a face and groaned., "Probably could have done with that advice a little earlier," he said shaking his head.

On the sofa, Sherlock had twisted and was glaring furiously at them over the laptop.

"Probably could have done with saying that a little quieter," Daddy sighed and took a deep sip of his tea before pulling a face.

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"Go out," Daddy said an hour later as Sherlock interrupted their number-bonds for a fifth time.

"I'm solving a crime," Sherlock huffed as he paced. "As soon as those photos come through-"

"Mm," Daddy said thoughtfully. "Go out," he repeated firmly.

"Do you not think I can do it?" Sherlock snapped, talking almost as quickly as he did when he deduced something. "Imagine how much time I could free up if I could solve crimes this way."

"God help us," Daddy muttered.

"What was that?" Sherlock asked.

Ava glanced between the two of them worried.

"You don't need to free up time," Daddy said, turning and wincing, his hand fluttering as if to move to his bad side and then dropping again. "Just go and look for yourself."

"Why should I?" Sherlock asked stopping mid pace and just glaring.

"Because I can't go out and just watching you is driving me mad," Daddy snapped. "Go for a walk."

Sherlock lifted his chin as if smelling something funny. "Is this one of those...things? Those ridiculous relationship test things?"

"What?" Daddy's mouth dropped a little and he looked back at Ava. "What has he been watching?"

Ava shrugged. "I wasn't allowed to watch Emmerdale because he said it's drivel," she said, still not happy with Sherlock about it.

Daddy rubbed his temples. "Let me get this straight. I get shot, leave you two alone and you start watching what I can only assume are late night romantic comedies and she starts watching soaps?"

Sherlock smiled in a way that was not a happy smile. "There's hope for you yet, detective John," he said sarcastically.

Daddy looked at Ava, "Sherlock...if you don't go I'm calling Mycroft."

Sherlock glanced between them both. "I don't want to talk to him," he said forcefully.

"I know," Daddy nodded as he replied.

"This isn't a test?"

Daddy shook his head mouthing the word no.

Sherlock seemed to deflate in relief. "Fine," he said and almost ran through the door. A second later his head popped back round.

"You don't need anything-"

"Go Sherlock," Daddy said pulling back the sums to test Ava again.

Sherlock hovered at the door. "Ah, I may have switched the pot for sugar with salt. I needed-"

"I know," Daddy said, casting an eye at his cold cup of tea. "Go."

Sherlock's eyes darted between them as if soaking up the image of the pair of them, just sitting at the table doing normal, boring things. With a faint smile he left.

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It was great having Daddy back again. They sat on the sofa and Ava made sure to stay on his good side as he read all of her favourite stories to her and agreed to watch Finding Nemo. He even let her go and run down to Mrs Hudson to borrow some sugar because Sherlock seemed to have accidentally used it in some experiment that sat in the sink and was starting to look a bit green.

And, when Sherlock came back in after Ava had gotten ready for bed, he brought back a Chinese and she was allowed to have a bit from both of their orders and open all the fortune cookies. Daddy laughed at her when she tried them and realised they didn't taste like the cookies she sometimes scored off of Mrs Hudson.

Sherlock went back out and she and Daddy just spent the rest of the night on the sofa watching films.

She woke up in the middle of the night, still on the sofa with Daddy and with Sherlock crouching opposite on the chair, just watching them both. Sleepily, she blinked at him and then tried to snuggle into Daddy further.

But Sherlock moved, standing up and cracking his back as he bent over and scooped her up off the sofa. He paused as his face was close to Daddy and for a moment, barely a second he rested his nose against Daddy's shoulder and just breathed while he wrapped Ava close to him.

And then he was upright and Ava tucked her head under his chin to keep her nose warm.

She didn't even manage to stay awake to see the staircase.

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3rd April

Ava ran down the stairs to show her weather homework to Daddy when she spotted Sherlock looking very proud of himself, opposite the chair Daddy was sitting in.

"I'm sure Ava would enjoy it," Sherlock added, clearly trying to wheedle something out of Daddy.

"Enjoy what?" she asked, letting the paper sag in her hands as she stepped forward, close to the arm rest of Daddy's chair. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Daddy's hands drumming on the armchair as if he was thinking deeply. A glance at his face confirmed that; he was staring at Sherlock with such concentration that Ava would have been squirming by now if he'd directed that look at her.

Sherlock seemed fine with it. In fact he seemed even more pleased by it.

"She has homework-" Daddy began.

"Finished it," Ava said quickly, suddenly alert that there might be something interesting going on. Daddy spared her a sharp look but immediately snapped his gaze back to his and Sherlock's gazing war.

Sherlock seemed to smirk.

Daddy looked away and at the fireplace, his shoulders dropping slightly. Ava glanced over at Sherlock and saw, for once, a look of uncertainty, as if Daddy wasn't reacting the way that Sherlock wanted or assumed he would.

The look vanished the second Sherlock saw her looking.

"Is that your homework?" Sherlock asked, holding out a hand as he looked at Daddy with the look that meant he was seeing the thousand and one things that most people never saw.

Ava nodded and passed the paper over wanting to help Daddy, but she was on his bad side and Sherlock and everyone had made it very clear that she was to try and avoid Daddy's bad side because it might hurt him.

Sherlock glanced at the homework and then squinted at it in disbelief.

"A weather chart?" he asked. "What possible use is it for you to record a weather chart?"

"So people will know whether it rained?" Ava said noticing for the first time that the violin was on the sofa and not in its box.

"That's what the internet is for. Besides everyone you know lives within the city. What possible use is it for you all to agree that it rained?"

Ava dragged her eyes away from the violin. "Because I want a sticker," she said frankly. "Mrs Parker said she'd give us a sticker if we made it look really nice."

"Now the woman's bribing the children," Sherlock sneered, looking over at Daddy.

Daddy didn't reply but instead stared at the fireplace even more intently.

Sherlock's eyes darted in panic for a second, but the look vanished when he swallowed.

"You've misspelled some words," he said, handing the paper back. "Use the dictionary to rectify the mistakes."

"Rectify?" Ava asked, peering at the paper.

"Fix," Sherlock said, dragging his eyes away from Daddy to look at her.

"But it's not English work," Ava complained. "We don't do spellings in Geography."

Sherlock threw her such an unimpressed look that she just turned without argument and ran back up the stairs to pour through the colourful dictionary that Mrs Hudson had bought her for Christmas.

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They were going on holiday!

Daddy came upstairs and explained it to her. It would do them all good to leave London for a bit and have a change of scenery. Plus, Sherlock was working on a case which meant he needed to go there anyway.

Which sort of meant that she was going on a case with them.

It was brilliant!

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5th April

Ava took the window seat while Daddy and Sherlock sat opposite each other, Daddy in the seat next to her. It meant she got to stare out as the buildings disappeared and the fields begun. And, ages later, she had her first glimpse of the thing she'd been waiting all day to see.

"Look!" she shrieked.

Daddy had been listening to Sherlock. Or rather, Sherlock had been talking at him about the case and Daddy had occasionally said something that either made Sherlock sigh in pity or launch onto some other theory. While Sherlock kept muttering, Daddy leant over to see what Ava was pointing to.

"It's the real life sea!" Ava bit her lip with excitement. "Can we go and see it today?"

"You've seen the sea before," Daddy said with a sigh.

"No I haven't," Ava huffed turning around. "Or if I did it was when I was a baby," Ava added, seeing the look on Daddy's face.

"You were three the last time we went," Daddy said, a frown on his face.

"Yeah," Ava said as if that proved her point. "I'm nearly six. That's double three."

Daddy sat back, a funny look on his face and Sherlock had stopped talking. Instead he was watching them both closely.

"John-" he started to say.

"We went with...Auntie Harry," Daddy said placing his hands flatly on the table very carefully.

Ava shrugged. All she could remember of Auntie Harry was a funny smell and a grey room with people who were crying and looking both angry and sad.

"You don't remember?" Daddy asked.

"John-" Sherlock started again.

"She did something naughty," Ava wrinkled her nose, remembering that it had been really naughty, not just hadn't tidied your room naughty. She shrugged again, not really seeing the importance. "Can I have an ice-cream when we go to the sea?"

But Daddy had closed his eyes and stood up.

"John-" Sherlock said for the third time. And, for the third time, Daddy ignored him and limped off down the train.

Sherlock started to rise to go after him and then sat back down, straining in his seat to watch where Daddy went. Every so often he would look at Ava, as if to remind himself why he couldn't get up and just chase after him.

Ava stared wide-eyed in the direction that Daddy had gone. "Did I say something bad?"

Sherlock seemed to give up on tracking Daddy's journey and sat back, as if sulking. "No, he's just being..." He seemed to catch himself and paused. "No. You didn't say anything bad," he settled for saying.

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They arrived at the sleepy pub in time for a late lunch. Their bags were taken up to their rooms and Sherlock took her to the bar to order food while Daddy sat at a table, staring at nothing.

He lifted her into the bar stool and stood behind her, holding the menu open in front of them so that they could both read it while she was encircled in his arms.

"Is Daddy still mad?" Ava asked as she noticed that there were chips available.

"He's sad," Sherlock corrected gently. "He misses your Aunt."

"But she's been in heaven for ages," Ava said leaning her head back to look up at his chin.

"Sometimes that doesn't matter," Sherlock said still studying the menu.

"She wasn't always very nice," Ava told him, lowering her voice as if it were a secret.

"No," Sherlock said mildly. "But then no-one is always nice."

Ava looked back down at the menu. "Mrs Hudson is."

Sherlock's chest rumbled as he chuckled at that. "The exception that proves the rule."

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It was just her and Daddy for the next few days. Sherlock was out meeting people and persuading them to tell him things in an overly nice way...or that was how Daddy phrased it. Sherlock would come and find them at random times during the day or in the evening and talk very fast and then disappear again almost as fast.

Then he suddenly spent the whole morning with them.

"You haven't solved it yet?" Daddy said, digging into his breakfast with obvious relish.

"It's only a matter of time," Sherlock replied mildly, scanning a newspaper. "I'm waiting for some information."

"Because you're usually so good at that," Daddy muttered between forkfuls.

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8th April

Sherlock offered to take her to the park so that Daddy could have an hour or two to himself.

The minute the pub was out of sight Sherlock knelt in front of her, his coat floating around him to fan neatly on the path.

"I need your help."

"For Daddy?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No." He hesitated and peered behind her, as if Daddy might suddenly appear from no-where. "I came here because a man disappeared. A man with a family that misses him."

Ava nodded, feeling very important and grown up that a case was finally being explained to her.

"Now, I have worked out most of what happened, but there's still something, something I'm missing, something that is vital to working out the who and why."

Ava scrapped her shoe on the path, trying to work that out.

"I need you to talk to his daughter."

Ava peered at him intently.

"She's about your age. I need to know what happened between her mother and father before he vanished."

Ava worried her lip between her teeth. "Why would she tell me?" she asked in a little voice. "She might not like me."

Sherlock blinked at her. "Don't be ridiculous." he said as if he really believed she was. "Besides, you'll likely never see her again."

Ava still didn't feel convinced.

"And the key," Sherlock shifted in his crouch. "The key to getting people to tell you things, is when they think you're similar."

"But my Daddy isn't missing. He's in the pub," Ava pointed out.

Sherlock reached out and tapped her nose. "We fib."

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They'd gone over it again and again and again.

And it was ok to fib, because it was for a good cause.

Although she was brimming with eagerness, she had to look upset, bored and annoyed. Sherlock was acting brilliantly, shooing her into the park with a disinterested air.

"Go play or something," he said, waving a hand at her and sitting on the bench to text.

Ava wandered over to the swings where a dark haired girl swung slowly. She sat on the other swing and glared over at Sherlock.

"Pretend I'm boring and I never do anything with you. Pretend you would do anything to be noticed by me. Pretend you never see me or your father and that we never talk to you properly."

"You never talk about your cases," Ava had complained.

"Now I am," Sherlock had pointed out. "So now you pretend."

So she swung. Higher and higher and higher looking at him, as if willing him to look up.

And then let the height and speed die when he didn't and just swung at the same pace as the dark haired girl next to her.

"I'm going to get a mobile phone when I'm older," the girl said suddenly.

"Me too," Ava replied honestly. Daddy had told her she could have one when she went to high school. "Then I can text people."

"Is he your Dad?" the girl asked.

"Step Dad," Ava said, leaning her head on the chain. "He's always on his phone."

Which was sort of a fib because Sherlock was hardly ever on his own phone. He was usually on Daddy's.

"My mum's always on hers.," the girl swung a little harder.

"What about your Dad?" Ava asked.

"He was always on his too." The girl shrugged, "He should have known better."

"Has he gone away then?" Ava asked, twisting the swing a little.

The girl nodded. "Far away," she agreed.

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Sherlock marched them back to the pub. All the while Ava waited for him to ask her what the girl had said, dreading it because she hadn't said much at all really.

"You went too high on the swings," he said as they entered the car park.

"You said to make it clear that you didn't give me any attention," Ava protested. "It was the only thing I could think of."

Sherlock huffed. "Did your death defying stunts work?" he asked.

Ava shook her head. "No. She didn't really say anything."

"You asked about her father?"

It was Ava's time to huff before she told him all that they had talked about. It was strange because Sherlock smiled in that strange way of his that meant he was pleased about something, despite the fact that he sort of knew he shouldn't be.

The next day Sherlock was on holiday too. And then Daddy seemed to cheer up.

Especially when Sherlock tried to instruct her on the correct way to text Mycroft.

Chapter 7: Parent's Evening

Summary:

At first it seems as if no-one will be going to parent's evening. Then, suddenly, everyone ends up going!

25th April

"I've never seen such a messy bag in all my life," Mrs Hudson complained as she tipped Ava's bag up and watched all the books and paper and sweet wrappers and sticky stuff drop to the floor. "Honestly, Ava. It isn't a bin!"

Ava pulled her mouth to one side of her face as she studied everything that had fallen out. Her reading record book that Daddy religiously filled out had landed badly on the floor under the yellow books she was reading and the humbug that someone had given her last week that she hadn't liked.

It was a very, very good job that Daddy wasn't coming back tonight.

He and Sherlock had gone away to have a sleepover. Ava wasn't sure why they had to go away to have a sleepover when they lived with each other. She'd asked them repeatedly if anyone else was invited but Sherlock had just snorted in amusement while Daddy had shook his head with a grin.

"There it is," she squeaked, suddenly spotting the homework sheet that had fallen out of her bag. Ava darted forward to grab it and then looked up curiously.

Mrs Hudson had seen the letter.

Ava winced.

Then, struck with an idea, held up her homework high so that it covered her face.

"Look!" she chirped, "it's homework and it has to be in for tomorrow else I'll be put in attention."

She had no idea what attention was, only that the children that went to the secondary school down the street seemed to get it a lot.

The thing with Mrs Hudson was that she seemed like a really sweet old lady who wouldn't say boo to a goose. Definitely grandma material, but then she would look around and Ava would know that she wasn't fooled by anyone at all. Even Sherlock struggled to slip things by her.

Ava figured she hadn't had a chance.

"Ava," Mrs Hudson sighed as she read the letter, and completely ignored Ava's attempt at misdirection. "Why didn't you show this to your father?"

Ava dropped the homework to her side and shrugged, "Mrs Parker told us the date," she said, as if that explained everything.

Mrs Hudson folded her arms, the letter still in her hands and waited in the way that she did when Sherlock made some comment about her tidying habits.

"Daddy and Sherlock are busy," Ava added, not too sure why Mrs Hudson hadn't realised this. After all, it couldn't have escaped Mrs Hudson's notice that Ava was staying with her tonight.

"How long ago did you get this letter?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"Two weeks ago," Ava replied; it had pretty much been when she'd gotten back after Easter.

"Two...Ava!" Mrs Hudson scolded.

"They aren't here," Ava huffed. "So they can't go." She folded her arms the way Mrs Hudson was and matched her, stare for stare.

The strong fingers tapped on Mrs Hudson's arm. Then she reached out for the phone that was hanging on the wall. "Call your father and tell him," she insisted.

Ava scrunched up her nose as she stared at the phone. "I don't really want to," she said, trying to sound reasonable.

"Ava!"

Unwinding her arms, Ava heaved a very loud and very meant to be heard sigh. She knew Daddy's number off by heart; he'd asked her every day for a month what his number was and she could rattle it off easily now. Pressing the buttons she held the phone to her ear and listened to it ring.

On the fifth ring Daddy answered. "Did you have a good day?" he asked sounding as if he was laughing.

Ava scowled at the phone. "How did you know it was me?"

Daddy sounded as if he were stretching. "I always know when it's you," he teased.

"Did Sherlock tell you?" Ava asked doubtfully.

Daddy huffed. "You're ruining my reputation with my daughter," he said sounding as if he wasn't aiming that at the phone. Then his voice was louder, "So how was your day?"

"Fine," Ava watched Mrs Hudson as she tidied up the mess from Ava's bag. "We learnt about the sun today."

It was strange that she could hear Daddy's smile, "Really?" he asked, sounding terribly pleased about that.

"Are you busy?" Ava asked.

"Uh..." Daddy sounded thrown by that and a bit confused, "I...what do you mean?"

"Are you engaged?" Ava asked, remembering one of Sherlock's fancy words.

"What?" Daddy sounded panicked.

"Occupied?" Ava asked flicking through her bank of clever Sherlock words that she thought she knew the meaning of.

"I...Jesus what?"

Ava huffed, not sure what his problem was. "Mrs Hudson wants to know if you're busy tonight, if you have plans," she shook her head. Really, what was so hard about that?

"Oh, thank god for that..." Daddy sounded as if he were swallowing in relief. "I...I have no idea actually."

That sounded strange. Adults always knew what they were doing.

"Sherlock's in charge of it all," Daddy sounded a bit dazed at the idea of that.

"So you are busy?" Ava asked a bit bored of the conversation now. Daddy was clearly in need of the rest he and Sherlock had been talking of. Sherlock had muttered something about spending all day in bed when they were away.

"I...do we have plans tonight?...what?...oh don't be so childish...no...fine." Ava fiddled with an apple that was on the table, trying to work out exactly how mad Mrs Hudson would be if she used it as a ball.

"Yes, it appears we do," Daddy said, when he eventually got back to her.

"Okay, bye."

Ava pressed the switch on the phone and placed it back on the table.

Then looked up to see Mrs Hudson staring at her in disbelief.

"What?" Deciding it was unlikely that Mrs Hudson would let her bounce the apple around, Ava bit into it instead. "Sherlock has plans."

Mrs Hudson pushed the phone back to her. "I didn't ask you to find out if they had plans, I asked you to tell your father about this," she pushed the letter towards Ava.

"But they're busy," Ava protested, not sure why Mrs Hudson was having such trouble understanding this.

Mrs Hudson smiled nicely. "Then it won't make much difference, will it?"

Munching Ava huffed and dialed the number again.

"Are you alright?" Daddy sounded a bit more interested in her this time as he answered it before the phone had a chance to make a full ring.

"Mrs Hudson says that I'm s'posed to tell you that I was s'posed to show you a letter from school." Ava rattled off, glaring at Mrs Hudson as the apple's juice dripped over her fingers. Screwing her face up at the sensation Ava started to lick at it to stop it from tricking further.

"A letter?" Daddy asked, "What letter?"

"The parents evening one," Ava squirmed as Mrs Hudson tutted and took the apple from her, wiping her sticky hand with a tissue.

"Parents evening?" Daddy sounded pleased. "I was wondering when that would be this year. What day is it?"

Ava pulled a face as Mrs Hudson wetted the tissue with her tongue and then started rubbing at the really sticky bits in between her fingers. "Wednesday."

"Wednesday the..." Daddy asked sounding as if he were reaching for something.

"The twenty-fifth," Ava answered, breathing a sigh of relief when Mrs Hudson pulled away. She wiped her fingers on her school top which meant she immediately received a glare.

"The twenthy-fifth," Daddy stopped. "Wait..." Daddy let out a very long breath.

"Ava?"

"Yes Daddy?"

"Has Mrs Hudson made you phone because parents evening is today?"

Ava scowled. "I told her you were busy. It isn't my fault," she sulked.

Daddy spluttered. "How long have you known about it?"

Ava eyed the apple again, kinda hungry. "Since we got back after Easter."

"Two weeks!" Daddy exploded.

"You booked you're in bed day before I went back to school." Why was everyone making such a big deal about this? Mrs Hudson paused and gave her a funny look.

"My day in..." Daddy sounded as if he'd stopped breathing to try and calm down. "What time is it on to?"

Ava peered to look at the letter but it was way to long for her to be bothered trying to sound out.

"Four," she guessed.

"Ava!"

"I don't know," she said, suddenly feeling a bit upset by the whole thing. She couldn't understand why everyone was getting so mad.

"Put Mrs Hudson on," Daddy asked after a moment.

Refusing to even reply to that Ava just snapped her hand out with the phone, waving it at Mrs Hudson and staring at the table.

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Two hours later, Ava was changed, had her hair neatly brushed and styled into a French plait that only Mrs Hudson could do.

Mrs Hudson was kneeling in front of her helping her with her coat.

"Now you're going to be good until your father and Sherlock arrive, aren't you?" Mrs Hudson asked.

Ava sighed, still upset by the whole thing. "But they're busy," she insisted for what felt like the billionth time.

Mrs Hudson sent a scolding look up as she zipped up the coat. But, before she had a chance to launch into her normal lecture, the bell went.

Suddenly nervous, Ava scuffed her shoes across the carpet.

"Oh. Thank you so much for doing this. I have to wait in you see, otherwise I'd have gone-"

"It's no trouble, Mrs Hudson," Mycroft said, cutting Mrs Hudson off before she got started, which was probably a smart thing. "Are you ready?" he asked Ava.

Nodding timidly, Ava stepped up next to Mrs Hudson feeling a strange urge to hug onto the woman's leg. Instead she just pressed against her as if to say goodbye.

"Have fun," Mrs Hudson said, pushing Ava gently towards Mycroft.

For a long minute she just stared up at Mycroft and he just stared back down at her. Then he nodded in the direction of the huge, long car that had pulled up by the flat.

She'd never been in the big car before. She'd seen Sherlock and Daddy get in (never together) but she'd never, ever been allowed anywhere near it.

And it was going to take her to school.

She so hoped that Beth Marshal saw it.

Mycroft followed her and held the door open before scooting in next to her.

"Do you ever drive?" Ava asked noting with some disappointment that she couldn't see out the windows. That was the whole fun of being in a car.

"Occasionally," Mycroft replied dialing a number. He held a finger to his lips when Ava started to ask something else and she got the hint.

"How far away are you? …No, it is not my fault that there are signal failures...believe me if I wanted to upset your travel plans I would be far more original than that...yes I have her...I have no idea..." Rolling his eyes and looking utterly uninterested in the answer Mycroft held the phone from his ear. "Am I upsetting you in any way?"

Ava stared at him and looked around. "I can't see out your windows," she announced.

"She's fine," Mycroft said raising the phone back to his ear.

"I'm bored?" Ava offered, trying to be helpful.

Mycroft glanced at her. "Oh excellent, have we been teaching her your limited vocabulary?" He took the phone from his ear very soon after that looking rather unimpressed.

"You're bored are you?"

Ava nodded.

Mycroft folded his arms and studied her.

"Do you know what a deerstalker hat is?"

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Mycroft actually came into the school with her. He looked rather pained as she led him through the doors and pointed out all the people that she knew and every single classroom.

"This is my classroom," she announced.

Mycroft glanced around, his eyes lingering on the displays and the tables and chairs. Finally he eyed up the other adults milling around the room and the couple sat with Mrs Parker at her desk.

"Charming," he said.

"I don't like the play area this term," Ava confessed, practically dragging him by the hand. "I tried to tell them that most police are mean but they all thought I was being silly."

"I'm sure," Mycroft said glancing at the cardboard police station for less than a second.

He wasn't interested.

Ava slumped her shoulders and looked at the clock, which wasn't very helpful when daddy wasn't around to tell her what position the hand needed to be in for him to get there.

Mycroft let out a long sigh. "Is any of your work up on the walls?" he asked sounding only mildly more interested.

Ava just pointed.

Mycroft wandered over to the wall from their homework project last term. Ava sat down in her usual seat and glared at the couple with Mrs Parker.

Tommy got to have people there who wanted to be there. No-one wanted to be there for her tonight. They just had to be there.

It was stupid.

She glanced at Mycroft; half hoping he'd get a call from Daddy and Sherlock to say they weren't coming.

But he was staring at the wall.

He looked interested.

Curious, she got out of her chair and weaved her way over to him. She glanced between him and her picture.

"Mrs Parker said I wasn't allowed to have silly. That's why it's smudged," Ava explained, wondering if he were staring at the mark. Sherlock had said once that Mycroft liked everything to be neat and perfect.

"Who suggested smart?" Mycroft asked after a moment.

It was impossible to work out what he thought of that. "You wear fancy suits all the time," Ava explained.

Mycroft stared at the picture a bit longer.

"You are in so much trouble."

Daddy!

Ava whirled around and stared up at him, suddenly pleased to see him. "You came!"

Daddy fixed her with a reproving look. Behind him Sherlock seemed to be eyeing the walls of the class as if any of them could jump out and explode.

"Ava..." Daddy took a long breath. "We could have rearranged the hotel for another night."

"So you didn't have to go away tonight?" Ava asked hovering on understanding what everyone had been so upset about.

"No."

"Oh," Ava smiled. "That's good then."

"No," Daddy opened his mouth a few times like the goldfish that Mary Alice had brought in a week ago. He turned to Sherlock, as if for help.

"This is very...bright," Sherlock commented, still looking around. "And the man over there would far rather be out at the bar he'd just come from-"

"Not the right place," Daddy hissed. Then he looked over Ava's head, "Thank you for doing this Mycroft, I'm sure you're busy-"

"Yes. Haven't you got more trains to delay?" Sherlock added snidely as he traced a finger over Ava's chair.

"I thought I might see it through to the bitter end actually," Mycroft said, taking a seat. "If she isn't going to be too long," he added, inclining his head at Mrs Parker.

"What?" Sherlock asked snapping his head up.

"Well, you're more than welcome-" Daddy started.

"John!" Sherlock said with disbelief, as if Daddy had just announced that he liked to smoke.

"Problem?" Mycroft drawled.

Ava darted a glance between the three of them and then tugged on Daddy's trouser leg.

"I made that," she announced to him when she got his attention and pointed to the clay model she'd shaped.

"Then we'll have to go and take a proper look," Daddy said as he pulled her up, showing no signs of his injury any more. He turned as he walked them over to the display. "If you two could try not to kill each other in the next five minutes I would appreciate it," he said over his shoulder to Sherlock and Mycroft.

Ava giggled at the look on their faces.

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"Hi Mrs Parker," Ava said, feeling a bit shy when she saw Mrs Parker was free.

"Hello Ava," Mrs Parker smiled at her very nicely. "And I recognise your Daddy and Sherlock and..." her voice tripped a little in panic, "Another one,"

"Sherlock's brother, Mycroft," Daddy added in quickly.

Mrs Parker nodded looking a bit relieved. "How lovely for you Ava," she waved them to their seats. Daddy and Mycroft sat and Sherlock glared at Mycroft.

"There's another seat over there," Mrs Parker said, as she picked up her thick teaching book.

Sherlock just continued to glare at Mycroft who just stared back as if Sherlock were an annoying two year old.

"Oh for God's sakes," Daddy said getting up and twisting another chair round. "There," he said as he sat on it, leaving his free.

Sherlock and Mycroft continued to stare at each other.

"Please," Daddy asked sounding half tired and half utterly embarrassed.

Throwing Mycroft a last filthy look, Sherlock stalked to the chair and sat, twisting a little so it was clear he had no intention of including Mycroft.

Mrs Parker was staring down at her book. "Ready?"

"Yup," Ava bounced on her heels.

They were all going to talk about her for five to ten whole minutes!

"First of all, let me say that Ava is a joy to teach. She's very bright and independent which is lovely to see, even if it can cause a few frictions," Mrs Parker smiled. "Woe betide the person who ever tells Ava Watson to do something she doesn't want to do."

Ava couldn't work out if that was a good thing or not. But Daddy let out a laugh and nodded. "That sounds about right," he said.

"Her spellings are coming on wonderfully, as is her handwriting. If she were more interested in her sums I'm sure she'd do just as well with them."

"Well, John insists on following your instructions to the letter," Sherlock said.

"That's good-"

"It wasn't meant as a compliment."

"Sherlock," Daddy hissed looking horrified. "Not now!"

Mrs Parker held up a hand to Daddy as if to ward him off. "What do you mean?" she asked sounding only curious.

"The methods you prescribe are dull and it's no wonder Ava shows little interest."

"The methods I suggest are designed to balance the demands of parents who want homework to be set but have little interest in actually spending a lot of time on it," Mrs Parker leaned back. "If you have your own ideas or want suggestions I am more than happy for you to do different things with Ava to encourage her numeracy work."

Sherlock nodded. "Excellent," he said as he flashed a triumphant look at Daddy.

Daddy just stared and then shook his head. "I...ok," he said, sounding a bit baffled.

"Her level at topic work usually is reliant on whether she is interested in the topic-"

"Understandable," Sherlock muttered.

Daddy glared at him.

"And she is enthusiastic when we do art."

Sherlock leant back at that, his eyes narrowing and opening his mouth.

"It isn't a hard code to crack," Daddy hissed. "You don't need to explain that one, just listen."

"Now, Ava is one of the more able children in the class-"

"She has the highest levels in most areas," Mycroft added tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair.

"I'm sorry?" Mrs Parker asked, seeming taken aback for the first time.

"What does that mean?" Ava asked Daddy. But Daddy was rubbing his forehead with his hand as if he were getting a headache.

"Don't tell me you've been having a look at the schools private records," Sherlock huffed.

"Don't be ridiculous. I do not have time to go looking though primary school data," Mycroft scoffed.

"Isn't it fortunate then that you have minions to do it for you," Sherlock muttered.

"You can't go through school records," Mrs Parker sounded horrified. "Safeguarding rules are clear-"

"Relax, he practically runs the government," Sherlock waved an impatient had. "The question is: why you bothered?"

"Government?" Mrs Parker asked looking towards Daddy and Ava as if for some hope of sanity.

Daddy just raised a hand and shook it dismissively. "Don't get me started," he muttered.

"I was curious," Mycroft said as if it were of no importance.

"You were-"

"Enough," Daddy snapped finally taking his head out of his hand. "If you two cannot behave I will throw you out, understood."

"John-"

"Don't push it," Daddy warned Sherlock. "Can we just finish this please?"

Sherlock settled back in his chair but managed to spare Mycroft a withering look. "Fine."

Mycroft nodded imperiously when Daddy glared at him.

"So," Daddy said, trying to sound normal, "You were saying?"

"Was she saying I was clever?" Ava asked.

"Yes," Sherlock seemed unmoved when Daddy sent him another look.

"As I was saying," Mrs Parker said, seeming uncomfortable. "Ava's academic performance is well above what it needs to be. I was wondering if you had given any thought to extra-curricular activities?"

Daddy shifted, "Such as?"

"Well many of Ava's class mates like ballet-"

Ava pulled a face and shook her head when Daddy glanced down at her.

"Horse riding lessons-"

"An outdated and practically useless ability," Sherlock added.

"It depends with the type of person she mixes with," Mycroft pointed out silkily.

"-music lessons. I have to say that whenever we have music lessons Ava excels at the piano."

Daddy went utterly rigid.

It was if a storm had passed over his face and he was suddenly pulling away.

"Thank you for your suggestions," he said, standing up. "They were very helpful."

Mrs Parker glanced at Ava, Sherlock and Mycroft looking as confused as the rest of them. "I hadn't finished-"

"It's late," Daddy said as he started to steer Ava out the door. "Thank you for your time."

Ava was so utterly confused by his behaviour that she just followed him out and didn't even comment when he got them both a cab and left Mycroft and Sherlock still in the school.

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"Are you going to tell me what the problem with piano lessons was?" Sherlock asked, sounding as if he were standing very close.

"Was it that obvious?" Daddy sounded as if he were thinking very hard and as if his thoughts were very far away.

"John-"

"I don't want to discuss it."

There was a sound as if Sherlock had dragged a chair forward so he could sit opposite them.

"Did Harry ever date a pianist?"

Daddy didn't reply.

"Do you know the reason I play the violin every time Mycroft is here?"

"To drown out his scolding?" Daddy asked sounding a bit mean.

"Because he can't. He has no musical ability whatsoever. He was so utterly jealous that I could play without effort."

Ava could feel Daddy shake his head. "That doesn't help in anyway. The point is...I hate being reminded."

"I can play the piano."

"Why am I not surprised?" Daddy sighed.

"What if it was just Ava and I sharing an interest?"

Daddy shifted.

"Not yet," Daddy said eventually. "Maybe...just not yet."

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Ava dug into her rice-krispies as her eyes followed Sherlock around the kitchen.

"Is Daddy awake yet?"

Sherlock shook his head. "He didn't get to sleep until late."

"I heard you talking last night," she confessed scooping up more milk than cereal.

"I know," Sherlock paused and turned to her. "And?"

"Can I tell you a secret?" Ava asked putting her spoon down.

Sherlock nodded, watching her very carefully.

"I hate playing the piano," she whispered.

Sherlock stared at her and then rolled his eyes. "Of course you do," he said carrying on with his test-tubes. "And of course the idiotic man didn't think to ask you."

"You have to stay sat down," Ava confided further, feeling a bit bolder from his reaction. "At least when you play you can walk around."

Sherlock nodded, "Indeed."

"So can I learn to play the violin?"

The test-tubes froze and Sherlock's head turned fractionally as if he'd caught himself before he properly looked at her.

Then Sherlock nodded, just once, and got on with his work.

Chapter 8: Chicken Soup

Summary:

When at a friend's house, Ava is less than impressed by the watery home-made chicken soup that is served.

19th May

If Ava had known what Poppy's house was like, she'd never have agreed to go round to play after school.

Poppy had said that she had a bunk bed. Bunk beds were awesome but Daddy had refused to buy one when she had a perfectly sturdy and decent bed already.

But it was no fun having a bunk bed if you weren't allowed to play on it.

Poppy's mum was boring. She had very straight blond hair and never smiled. Sherlock would at least smile with his eyes and chuckle every so often. And he did that a lot more than he used to. Poppy's mum was just really calm and blank.

And pretty strict. It was like being in school during wet play when the head teacher was about.

"Girls! It's time to put your game away."

Frustration. Ava could imagine Sherlock quirking an eyebrow at the game they'd ended up playing. Ava had been glared at just for the way she popped the dice. But she'd made it into her own private game to see how often she could get Poppy's Daddy, Mr Coleman, to look up from his computer and scowl.

If it was teatime then that meant she didn't have much longer until Daddy came and picked her up. She almost hoped that Sherlock picked her up instead, just to see what he'd say to the Colemans.

Mrs Coleman placed a steaming bowl of homemade chicken soup in front of her and Poppy and a steak down for the grown-ups. The television went on and BBC News 24 started to play.

Ava chased the chunks of chicken around with her spoon, frowning at the watery sauce. It wasn't like what you got out of a tin which looked all creamy and yummy. This looked like the dishwater when the dinner stuff had been cleaned.

"Don't play with your food," Mrs Coleman told her gently.

Ava was pretty sure she was one of the mums who occasionally muttered together in the playground and seemed to think that she didn't get decent care because she didn't have a mum.

But her Daddy was a doctor and a soldier. That was like a mum and dad rolled into one. And no one else had a Sherlock.

Feeling Mrs Coleman's eyes on her, Ava dipped the spoon and got a nice big chunk of chicken.

It tasted like soap.

Ava glanced over at Poppy who was eating quietly, though with a slightly screwed up face.

"I don't think I like it," Ava said, pushing the vegetables and chicken around again.

"It's homemade." Mrs Coleman said, neatly cutting up her steak.

Ava glanced at Poppy again. She had a feeling that, while pointing out just because it was homemade didn't automatically mean it was nice would have been met with an appreciative nod at home, here it would be just rude.

And Poppy was eating it fine.

Ava managed to finish it off, glad to have finally got to the flower pattern at the bottom of the bowl. The bread had been nice.

"More?" Mrs Coleman said, already ladling more soup into their bowls.

Ava tapped a chicken bit with her spoon and watched as it bobbed. Mrs Coleman cleared her throat.

This time, Ava made sure to leave some so that Mrs Coleman couldn't fill the bowl back up.

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When she got back Sherlock was in charge of dinner, which meant he was in charge of undoing the boxes from the takeaway.

And sneezing while doing it.

Ava glanced between Daddy and Sherlock, as Daddy walked in behind her and waited for Daddy to get the Calpol.

He didn't. He just got on with undoing his shoes as if he hadn't noticed.

Sherlock slammed his coffee down just a bit too heavily as he struggled with the plastic lid of one of the tubs and Daddy just glanced at him.

"Caffeine isn't good for -"

"I'm not sick," Sherlock snapped.

Daddy cleared his throat. "Of course not," he agreed mildly. "Why would you be?"

Sherlock ignored him and dumped the box upside down onto a plate.

"After all, it isn't as if you had a swim in the Thames this morning," Daddy paused dramatically. "Oh wait, that's exactly what you did."

"It was necessary," Sherlock hissed, yanking the next one open.

"I'm not saying it wasn't-"

"No, your argument is that the moment a person touches water they get a virus."

"We are talking about the same body of water?" Daddy asked.

Sherlock threw Daddy a disapproving look as he tossed the empty cartons in the direction of the bin.

Ava rested her chin on the table, feeling a little bit hot but utterly fascinated by the idea that Sherlock could get sick.

"The medicine tastes like strawberries, it's nice," she offered, trying to be helpful.

"But unnecessary," Sherlock said, yanking open the drawer with the knives and forks. He took his own plate and glared at Daddy. "Get your own," he snapped.

Daddy was trying not to laugh as he let Sherlock skulk past him.

"Did you have fun at Poppy's?" Daddy asked as he sorted out his own food and retrieved Sherlock's tubs from where they'd landed in the sink.

Ava pulled a face. "They like things to be quiet," she said diplomatically.

Daddy raised an eyebrow. "Would you like Poppy to come here next time?"

Ava shook her head. "Mrs Coleman doesn't think you feed me properly."

Any amusement Daddy had died away. "I'm sorry?" he asked, putting down the food. "What?"

Ava shrugged. "She told Hannah's mum that she thought there should be a woman around." Ava frowned, seeing Daddy flinch a bit. "I told her that Mrs Hudson bakes with me every Monday night."

Daddy looked down at her and a satisfied grin started to appear. "And how did Mrs Coleman take that?"

"I don't know," Ava hadn't really wanted to talk to Mrs Coleman that much. "She didn't say it again though."

Daddy picked up his plate. "Go and get ready for bed," he said, pinching her nose between his thumb and forefinger gently.

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When she came back downstairs, Sherlock was sprawled out along the sofa while Daddy washed up. Ava felt a little lightheaded from running down the stairs and nudged into Daddy's leg. Hands still wet in the sink Daddy flicked some bubbles at her making her giggle.

"Do you have any homework?"

Ava shook her head. "It's not due in until next week."

Daddy frowned down at her pointedly. "Do it now and you'll have the weekend free," he suggested.

Ava twisted around and leaned her back against the cupboards peering up at Daddy. "But then you'll make me do spellings and number bonds."

"Life's hard isn't it?" Daddy winked at her. "Go and ask Sherlock to help you."

Ava glanced over at the figure on the sofa. "But he's sick-"

"I'm not sick," Sherlock huffed. "What is it?"

Rolling her eyes, Ava went to fetch her bag.

"I have to think of my dream job and say why it's my dream job," Ava announced flashing her book at Sherlock. "And draw a picture," she added.

"You're five," Sherlock muttered. "You don't need to think about jobs yet."

"If I don't then I have to talk to Mrs Parker at break time about why I didn't do my homework, like Stacy has to."

Sherlock rubbed his eyes and twisted to face her. "Well, what do you want to do then?"

Ava shrugged. "I don't know."

Sherlock craned his neck to glare at Daddy for a moment and then sighed. "Write that you wish to be unemployed then."

Ava screwed her face up. "I don't think I want to be that," she told him. "Quentin's Dad was telling the mums in the playground how horrible the job centre was 'cause he's unemployed and he has to go there, so it's not even as if you get a lie in."

"Then sit and think quietly about what you want to do," Sherlock instructed, turning his head back so he was staring straight up at the ceiling.

"Who do you admire?" Daddy asked, coming in with a drink that smelt suspiciously like the horrible flu stuff that was kept in the cupboard Ava couldn't reach. "Who would you like to be when you grow up?"

"I can choose anyone?" Ava asked.

"Anyone. It could be someone you know, someone you see on TV."

Ava chewed at her lip as she stared at her page, and then looked up quickly when it felt like her head was overbalancing. She just caught Daddy leaning over, trying to hand the cup to Sherlock.

"For the last time, I am not sick," Sherlock growled.

"Humour me," Daddy replied.

Pursing his lips, Sherlock glared at the ceiling and ignored the cup.

Daddy leaned back a bit and then a smirk appeared on his face. "You do what I want and I'll do what you want."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned. But stopped suddenly and raised an eyebrow.

Then he made a sharp gesture with his hand, indicating at the cup.

When Daddy looked smug, Sherlock rolled his eyes again.

"Any ideas?" Daddy asked, turning his attention back to Ava, still looking very pleased with himself.

"I want to work at Tesco's."

The grin fell off Daddy's face and Sherlock paused mid sip.

"Tesco's? That's your dream job?" Daddy asked blankly.

"The girl who works there always looks pretty," Ava explained. "And you get to know what everyone is buying."

"Yes but…"Daddy sighed."Okay then."

"What?" Sherlock snapped sitting up properly. "You can't be serious-"

"It's hardly a binding contract," Daddy sighed. "It will change a thousand and one times before she has to think about it properly."

"You don't want to be a…" Sherlock seemed to search his brain quickly. "A doctor?"

Ava screwed her nose up. "That's boring," she complained. "Daddy does that."

Daddy snorted as Sherlock closed his eyes as if in pain and started to list every single boring job he could think of.

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Ava woke in the middle of the night feeling unbearably hot. The horrible kind of hot where everything was itchy and scratchy and the world didn't seem to be standing still. Her head was too heavy and her throat felt tight and blocked.

She was going to be sick.

She managed to get to the toilet in time. Huge wracking waves crashed through her and she couldn't do help but heave everything up.

She flushed the toilet when her head felt lighter and couldn't stop shaking as she stumbled to the sink, running the water to get rid of the taste. When her mouth felt cleaner and she couldn't smell sick so badly, she shivered her way out of the bathroom and downstairs.

She'd never gone into Daddy and Sherlock's room while they were sleeping. Sherlock was usually out in the living room as if he knew she was coming.

They were both sprawled out on the bed, the window open in the sudden hot weather they'd been having. Daddy was on his front, the pillow pushed up until it was vertical against the headboard and his arms were crossed underneath it. On the other side Sherlock was turned, facing Daddy, curled and one hand on Daddy's back.

Sherlock stirred as she entered, her sobs waking him up instantly.

"What…?" he started to climb out of bed but then seemed to think better of it, reaching for a dressing gown that was on the floor and maneuvering himself into it. "What's-"

"Sick," Ava sobbed, unable to stop shaking and feeling that horrible urge to throw-up rise again.

Sherlock slid out of the bed and reached out a cold hand to her forehead. Even in the half-light cast by the streetlight she could see his eyes widen.

"John," he called loudly, dropping down to Ava's level and onto his knees. "You've been sick."

Ava pushed her head against his hands, desperate for the relief the cold touch brought, "Flushed it," she muttered.

"That's not…John!" Sherlock turned to Daddy who was staring to stir. "Get up, now."

Sherlock's hands were starting to shake.

Daddy appeared, looking half asleep and staring down at them as he wrapped his dressing gown around himself. "What-"

"She's burning up," Sherlock sounded flustered as he grabbed one of Daddy's hands and shoved it on to Ava's forehead.

Daddy frowned and adjusted his hand against Ava's forehead, then knelt down as well.

"She's been sick," Sherlock added, sounding rushed.

"Get the light," Daddy murmured and Sherlock disappeared instantly. Seconds later, Ava winced from the brightness and felt the world spin uncontrollably. Her stomach jumped and squeezed and she felt herself being turned towards the bin as she vomited again.

Daddy kept hold of her, keeping her hair back and stroking her back gently. Then something plastic was placed against her forehead and Sherlock hissed.

"That's too hot," Sherlock said urgently. "Especially for a child."

"What did you have to eat tonight," Daddy asked, ignoring Sherlock.

"Chicken soup," Ava whimpered as she took in great gulps of air and felt a cold glass of water pressed against her lips. Sherlock held it carefully, allowing her to drink slow sips.

"John," Sherlock's voice wavered.

"Did it taste funny?" Daddy asked.

"Like washing-up liquid," Ava sobbed as she felt those tremors start again.

"Was it just you who ate it?"

"Poppy had some too," Ava couldn't get rid of the smell. Sherlock reached for the bin and disappeared.

"Shit," Daddy reached out and dug his phone out of the jeans on the floor. Holding onto her he dialed with one hand.

"Ambulance?" Sherlock asked, returning with the washing up bowl and placing it in front of Ava.

Daddy shook his head and passed Ava to Sherlock, "We need to keep her hydrated." He said redialing the number.

Daddy disappeared out of the room and Sherlock dipped his fingers in a bowl of water that he'd brought and touched it to her forehead. Gasping in relief, Ava pushed her head into his hands, desperate for the cold.

When Daddy came back in he looked very pale. He knelt in front of Ava and frowned at Sherlock.

"Open your mouth," he said to Ava gently and then ran a finger along the inside of her cheek. He rubbed his fingers together studying it and then placed another finger in her fist.

"Squeeze for me," he said pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Ava tried but her muscles felt like jelly. Behind her, Sherlock was very still, as if waiting.

"Do you still feel sick?" Daddy asked pulling back.

"Yes," Ava sobbed.

"Okay," Daddy said soothingly and stood up. "I'm going to get dressed. You need to give her water; slowly and as much as she can manage without vomiting. You have to do it slowly."

Ava could feel Sherlock nod. "Do you want me to call-"

Daddy shook his head. "We'll be quicker in a taxi."

"Ambulances have sirens-"

"And order of priority." Daddy snapped as he started to open the drawers. The glass was pressed against her lips again but pulled away after three seconds when she tried to gulp it down. "Trust me, at this time on a Friday night we'll be quicker getting a taxi."

Another wave hit her and she threw up suddenly, missing the bowl completely and crying her eyes out as it felt like someone was turning her stomach inside out to squeeze out everything she'd ever eaten.

And it didn't feel like it was ever going to stop.

"John?"

Sherlock sounded terrified.

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It was a blur. Green uniforms and bright lights. Her mouth tasted like copper and bitterness. She could feel Daddy's rough hands and hear Sherlock's frantic voice.

And a beeping noise.

It was all too hot and she felt like she was floating on a violent sea without direction or care. Everything was too much and she wriggled away from it into the calming dark.

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20th May

Someone was stroking her hair. Softly, in strokes that were hardly there. Over and over again.

Sleepily, Ava opened her eyes, the world swimming in front of her and Daddy's face watching her carefully.

"Go back to sleep," he said gently, pressing a gentle kiss to her nose.

"Am I still sick?" she asked, her mouth feeling like cotton-wool.

Daddy nodded. "You're much better now," he said. "But you need to sleep to get your energy back."

"Like the Duracell bunny?"

"Exactly like that."

Ava fell asleep before he finished talking.

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The next time she woke, Sherlock was there with Daddy, who had fallen asleep on the chair, head on her bed. Sherlock sat on the other side, watching carefully.

"Thirsty," Ava whimpered.

And another cold glass of water was pressed to her lips, only this time it didn't make her stomach turn. In fact it felt as if it were the only thing inside her and as if she could follow its path all the way down to her belly.

The back of his fingers brushed against her forehead and then turned, brushing some hair out of her face.

The glass was taken away and Ava stared up at Sherlock, everything feeling sore and exhausted. She watched as he set the glass down and looked back over to her, his other hand still stroking her cheek carefully.

"Next time food tastes bad you are to stop eating," he instructed. "And you are to call us if they make a fuss over that."

"'Kay" Ava looked to her side and saw a tube going into her arm. "What's that doing?"

"Ensuring you have enough fluid." Ava watched as Sherlock's eyes trailed down the tube and he let out a shaky breath. "It will be coming out soon."

"My head hurts," she told him, feeling the pounding drum beat start to thud.

Sherlock glanced at the door and then leaned over slightly, shaking Daddy's shoulder. "John," he said quietly.

Daddy stirred and turned to look at Ava. "You all right?" he asked reaching out to stroke her chin.

"Head hurts."

"It will do," Daddy sat up and his back cracked, making him wince. Once he was upright, he shifted the chair around and studied her face closely. "Do you feel sick at all?"

Ava shook her head and then screwed up her nose when her head throbbed at the movement.

"Thirsty?"

"I gave her some water," Sherlock said quietly, sitting back and letting Daddy take his spot.

Daddy nodded but kept his eyes on Ava. "Do you still feel thirsty?"

"Not really," Ava blinked. "Feel sleepy," she confessed, yawning.

"Go back to sleep then."

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21st May

She was allowed to go home the next day. Curled into Daddy, she just about managed to keep her eyes open as they got in and Mrs Hudson gave her a big hug and made some toast while Daddy got her sorted on the sofa.

Sherlock hovered. He kept starting things and then abandoning them to start new things. Eventually, when he saw that she was fighting to stay awake, he wandered over and talked to her about the different ways to get water into someone's body. She didn't really listen to the words but his voice was soothing and a familiar rumble that lulled her off to sleep.

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"You shouldn't have said anything to them," Daddy said with a sigh.

"They forced her to eat rancid chicken," Sherlock hissed.

"They're paying for it now," Daddy said gently, sounding sad.

"How can you see it like that?" Sherlock asked after a moment.

"Like what?"

"You see it as comeuppance-"

"God, I didn't mean that-"

"-How can you not see it as how close we came to losing her?" Sherlock asked, his hand stroking her hand.

"I told you she was never in that bad a state. We just needed an instant way of getting the fluid back into her." Daddy sounded as if his voice was close to Sherlock's. "Ironically, after all my complaining, you probably saved her."

"Excuse me?"

"She's got a tough constitution." Daddy sounded as if he was smiling. "Can't imagine why, living here."

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Poppy didn't come back to school. And her Mum never stood gossiping in the playground again.

But no-one ever said that Daddy didn't look after her properly again.

Chapter 9: A Broken Promise

Summary:

Ava's Sport's Day is coming up. The ony problem is that Daddy and Sherlock seem terribly worried about the date of it for some reason...

2nd June

"Oh dear, whatever now?" Mrs Hudson muttered as she and Ava walked past the police cars parked outside. Ava watched as Mrs Hudson timidly turned the lock and peered round the door.

Darting forward and under, Ava had enough time to spare a cheeky grin back at Mrs Hudson before racing up the stairs, determined not to be left out of whatever it was that was happening.

"Ava Watson, get back down here right now!" Mrs Hudson called after her, putting on her best stern voice, which wasn't really that stern at all!

The further up the stairs she got, the more she could hear Daddy's annoyed and very steady voice and Sherlock's occasional clipped comments. It sounded as if there were other people in the flat. Lots of people.

Ava peeped around the doorway and stared up at Lestrade who stood with his arms folded as Daddy ranted about something.

Ava crept in and navigated her way around the policemen, stopping when she got to Daddy. Glancing between him and Lestrade, she pushed herself against Daddy's leg, clutching her book bag to her stomach. Daddy put an absent hand on her head in greeting as he continued to huff.

"-why would we bother? It's not as if we wouldn't expect you to pull something like this again-"

Ava looked between the two men and then over at Sherlock who was now staring out the window, ignoring Anderson. Peeling open the Velcro fastening of her school bag, Ava pulled out her letter and paused when Mrs Hudson peered round the door. She flashed Ava a disapproving look but spotted the letter, rolled her eyes and disappeared.

Deciding the Daddy looked too busy, Ava made her way over to Sherlock. Or at least she tried to, but Anderson kept moving and made it hard to get to him.

"For God's sakes Anderson, is it utterly beyond you to stay still and let her through?" Sherlock asked without turning. Anderson turned and nearly tripped onto her. Glaring, she darted past and got to Sherlock, pulling on his shirt.

"Not now," Sherlock murmured, staring out the window as if the world depended on it. Ava tried to get up on her tip-toes to see what he was looking at but she simply wasn't tall enough. Frustrated, she turned so her back was to the window and leant her head on his hip, scrunching the letter as she hugged it to her chest, worried.

One of the detectives emptied the desk drawers and just chucked it all over the floor. Sherlock and Daddy both turned to stare in disbelief.

"Oy," Lestrade snapped. "We're looking, not tearing the place apart."

"But sir-" Anderson started.

"The kid," Donovan said as she nodded pointedly towards Ava, she neatly replacing the items she'd been looking through.

"He's broken the law," Anderson complained. "Just because a child is somehow allowed to live in the same place as that-"

"Do not finish that sentence."

It sounded like something Sherlock would say, but the clipped and quietly furious words came from Daddy, who had dropped his hands from being folded to being clasped behind his back. Sherlock's hand ghosted over Ava's head as silence fell.

"Anderson wait outside," Lestrade said ducking his head and sounding sad. "The rest of you finish this off."

Sherlock looked away to the window again.

Ava weaved back to Daddy and tried tugging on his shirt instead.

"In a minute Ava," Daddy said, still glaring at Anderson as he made his way to the door.

Ava glanced down at the letter and then around the room. Daddy, Sherlock and Lestrade were all silent now, clearly waiting for everyone to leave.

"But Daddy-"

"Ava, go upstairs," Daddy said without looking down as he walked over to Sherlock.

Ava glanced at the stairs and then at Lestrade who was watching Sherlock and Daddy carefully. The letter looked tattered now and it really wasn't going the way she planned this would.

And no-one had even said hello to her yet!

Fuming, she stomped her foot on the ground.

"No."

Sherlock and Daddy both paused, glanced at each other and turned to stare at her in disbelief. Lestrade just twisted to face her and tilted his head in surprise.

The other detectives exchanged a look.

"Did you just stamp your foot?" Daddy asked in a really rather dangerous voice.

"I won the spelling prize!" Ava sulked, jutting a sulky lip out, "And it's in the letter you won't read. And I'm in the potato and spoon race at sports day. And you won't say hello to me." She folded her arms furiously, scrunching the paper even more.

For a moment she thought Daddy would tell her off. Sherlock seemed a bit taken aback and she was pretty sure she could get him to do something nice that was his way of saying sorry after the detectives had left. But Daddy's mouth was moving in a funny way.

Then he snorted in laughter.

"Hello Ava," he said, eyes twinkling suddenly. "Do you have any news to tell us?"

She beamed, remembering this, vaguely. "Hello Daddy, I'm in the Potato and spoon race."

"Really?" Daddy was trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. "Any other news?"

"And I won the spelling prize, which means I get to be in the letter home."

Daddy nodded as if it were his first time hearing all of this. "That's amazing. I'll read it later. But right now the police are turning the house upside down because they're stuck for clues and grasping at straws."

"That's silly," Ava said

"Yes," Daddy agreed and then grinned at her. "Was that better?"

"Much," she sniffed, happy now. "You could have done that the first time," she scolded as everyone stared at them.

"Yes," Daddy agreed. "But remember that sometimes I get a bit...stressed and don't do things right the first time."

Ava nodded. "Like Auntie Harry," she preened remembering the few times she and her Aunt had done this. In fact, Auntie Harry had started it, she thought.

Daddy nodded. "Exactly like Auntie Harry," he smiled, looking happy, which was rare when Auntie Harry's name was brought up. He held out his hand for the letter as everyone else started to move around again.

Ava handed it over bouncing on the balls of her feet, excited beyond belief. Last year, Daddy hadn't managed to go to sports day because of work and things and she'd only been in reception, which meant she hadn't been able to do many of the races.

But this year she could do loads, and there was a potato and spoon race which Daddy had banged on about last year.

Then Daddy sucked in a sharp breath and his knuckles turned white which scrunched up the letter where he held it even more.

A movement from the side attracted her attention. Sherlock had moved away from the window and was staring down one of the detectives that had moved into his path. Without saying a word, he managed to make the detective cringe and step aside.

Then he was stood next to Daddy, hovering. Wordlessly, Daddy handed over the letter and took a deep breath, staring at the wall.

"John?" Sherlock sounded…worried? Concerned?

Guilty?

"Everything alright?" asked Lestrade.

Daddy nodded and then seemed to shake himself. Turning away from Sherlock, he straightened himself again and seemed to be waiting.

Taking the hint, Lestrade nodded at the detectives to continue packing away, and then stepped close to Sherlock.

"Problem?" Ava heard the inspector ask. Daddy looked like he was trying to steady himself so Ava tried to snuggle into Sherlock instead. To her surprise, Sherlock ducked a bit and lifted her up, so that her head rested on his shoulder.

"Nothing that concerns you," Sherlock rumbled and Ava watched Daddy over his shoulder, enjoying the height advantage.

"We talked about this-" Lestrade begun.

"I'll rephrase then; unless you plan on becoming a relationship councilor, there is nothing that concerns you," Sherlock snapped. "Though God knows you couldn't be any worse at that then you are at detective work," he added mockingly.

Not liking the sound of his voice, Ava pulled back to glare up at him. Sherlock met her gaze with his smoky eyes and then took a deep breath.

"The date," he said, passing over the letter to Lestrade.

"What about…oh," Lestrade went from sounding miffed to worried in three seconds flat. "Right." He seemed dreadfully uncomfortable. "Move it along Donovan," he barked.

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That night, as Daddy tucked her in, Ava finally asked what she'd been waiting all day to ask.

"So can you come to sports day?" she asked as he drew up the covers.

Daddy hesitated and then let the cover fall on her, smoothing it down. He seemed to be delaying what he wanted to say.

"Daddy?" Ava whined. "Please," she tried her best puppy dog eyes.

"We may have to skip it," Daddy said gently.

"But I want you to come and see me," Ava rubbed her chin against Charlie Bear's soft fur. "I promise I'll run really, really fast."

Daddy took a deep breath and then met her eyes.

"You may not be able to go either," he said.

"But there's a potato and spoon race," Ava pointed out, sure that he'd been confused somewhere along the way. Why would she have to miss sports day?

Daddy winced and shifted so that he was against her headboard and she could snuggle under his arm.

"We…" he trailed off, seeming to struggle for the right words. "We aren't sure yet. But there is a chance that we'll be doing something else that day-"

"But it's Sport's Day!"

Daddy huffed out a long sigh. "Just don't get your hopes up," he said, sounding miserable.

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A week later Daddy said they could go!

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13th June

"I'm in the red team," Ava announced to Sherlock. "Because I'm in red house so I have to wear a red t-shirt."

Sherlock stared at her and nodded. "Wonderful," he muttered.

"'Cause red's the best," she added with an edge to her voice, not sure he understood just how brilliant it was that she was in the red team. "We won last year as well."

Sherlock took a deep breath and glared at Daddy. "You deal with this," he said standing. "I need to go."

"You are coming aren't you?" Ava asked rolling her eyes. There were times when Sherlock was a little bit slow about these kinds of things and how great they were. He'd figure it out eventually.

"Yes," Sherlock muttered, putting on his coat. "As long as you stop mentioning it every breakfast."

"But it's Sport's Day," Ava pointed out for what felt like the hundredth time. "Daddy, did you explain sports day to him?" she asked, turning to look at Daddy who looked suddenly annoyed.

"Yes," Daddy said, sounding distracted. "Sherlock-"

"Later."

That night, Daddy cooked a pizza which meant that Sherlock wasn't coming home for dinner. He kept looking at his phone as well, which didn't beep.

Sherlock must be tracking a bad guy then, like the TV inspectors did on ITV. Only he was probably better at it than they were.

"You have to remember to get there early, otherwise you won't see the track," Ava reminded Daddy. "And Sherlock can't be mean to people I like."

Daddy paused.

"Ava…Sherlock's very busy at the moment," he started hesitantly. "He might not be able to get away-"

"But he said he was coming," Ava reminded Daddy. "He promised."

"He didn't promise," Daddy snapped and then took a deep breath. "He was in a rush."

Ava was silent. But Daddy had said they might not get to go to Sport's Day and then they managed it. Daddy was just being careful. Sherlock said that Daddy could be like that sometimes.

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14th June

"I need a red top-"

"I know!" Daddy sung her up into his arms and pretend growled at her to make her giggle. "I'm not that old that I can't remember things."

Ava smiled. "But I'm much younger so I'll always remember more which means I have to remind you."

Daddy gaped at her and then shook his head smiling. "What colour was it again?" he asked frowning at her t-shirt drawer.

"Daddy!" Ava stared at him in horror. "Red!"

Daddy's shoulders heaved as if he was laughing.

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15th June

They had to line up neatly to walk across the field after lunch. It was a bright, sunny day which was awesome because it meant that it wouldn't be cold sitting on the field.

And when they walked in she could see all the grown-ups sitting along the tracks, some with camcorders and some with cameras.

And, when she spotted Daddy and Mrs Hudson, she waved.

Sherlock was probably telling someone off.

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The red team were doing awesomely! Sophie Reynolds in Year Six was the fastest runner ever and she won loads for them.

And then it was Ava's turn for the running. She and the other girls lined up and listened solemnly to Mr Pond as he told them their instructions.

And then she got to run as fast as possible.

And won!

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As soon as they told her to go and give Mrs Chambers, the receptionist, her name because she'd come first Ava flew off down the parents' side of the field, completely ignoring Mrs Parks' laughing call.

"I won," she screeched, launching herself at Daddy who was trying not to laugh at her.

"I saw," he caught her in his arms and hefted her up so they were eye level. "And you're not meant to be here, you're meant to give Mrs Chambers your name," he added, trying to be stern.

"But I had to tell you that I won!" Ava bit her lip with glee. "In case you didn't see."

"What else would I have been watching?" Daddy asked, pressing a kiss to her nose. "We were very impressed, weren't we Mrs Hudson?"

"Very," Mrs Hudson looked delighted. "I suppose this might call for a cake when we get back."

Ava gasped. "A chocolate one?"

"With chocolate fudge in the middle," Mrs Hudson winked.

"Great!" Daddy didn't sound that thrilled, "And if she throws up you can clear it up,"

Mrs Hudson swatted at him.

Ava twisted looking about for the last person that was meant to offer his congratulations.

And twisted again, confused.

Worried, she bit at her thumb nail.

"Did Sherlock see?" she asked. Wouldn't it be like him to be too busy scolding someone to miss her race?

Daddy and Mrs Hudson exchanged a worried look.

"I told you sweetheart," Daddy said as Mrs Parker made her way over. "Sherlock wasn't sure he'd be able to make it."

"But he said…" Ava looked around again, sure that he'd suddenly appear and be peeved that they had doubted him.

"Ava Watson," Mrs Parker said, sounding torn between being angry and laughing. "You are meant to be in the red tent getting ready for your next race!" She put her hands on her hips. "You don't want to miss the potato and spoon race now, do you?"

Ava let Daddy slip her back down to the floor.

"Ava," Daddy stared as he knelt down next to her. "He did want to come-"

Not wanting to hear any more, Ava dashed off to take Mrs Parker's outstretched hand. Mrs Parker hesitated a moment and then Daddy shook his head.

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He was going to turn up.

He would turn up.

Ava ignored everyone in the tent and stared at the entrance to the field and then over at Daddy and Mrs Hudson.

Daddy was on his phone looking really mad.

They did the potato and spoon race and he didn't turn up. Then the skipping race. Then the obstacle race.

"Ava it's the relay race," Mrs Parker coaxed. "Up you go."

He wasn't coming.

And suddenly Ava knew it. He'd said he would and he'd fibbed. Then, she remembered what he'd said on holiday.

It's okay to fib if it's for a good cause

Which either meant that Sherlock had been really bad or he'd thought that missing Sport's Day was a good cause.

Feeling tears start to well up, Ava just shook her head.

Mrs Parker dropped down next to her. "You can't miss the relay race, everyone's relying on you," she said softly. "We don't want to let them down, do we?"

Ava's chin wobbled; she didn't want to be like Sherlock and not do something she'd promised to do, but everything was blurring with her tears and she couldn't see straight.

"Oh Ava," Mrs Parker stroked her hair. "Do you want me to get your Daddy for you? We still have a bit of time."

Ava nodded.

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Daddy took her out behind the tent so that no-one was staring at her. He sat on the floor so that they were eyelevel and wiped her tears with his thumb.

"I know you wanted him here-" Daddy began.

"No I don't," Ava sulked.

"He had to do something really important-" Daddy begun but all Ava could hear was that Sherlock had something more important than her to worry about.

"I have to go do the race," she said shrugging him off when he tried to pull her in for a hug.

"Ava-" Daddy rubbed a hand over his eyes. "You don't have to-"

"Yes I do," Ava scrubbed at her eyes and sniffed back the tears. "Otherwise I'm a big fat liar like him."

Daddy stared at her in shock as she stomped off.

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She got to take the shield home, the one that said first place on it and was all silver and shiny. The cab driver was really impressed with it and Mrs Hudson said that they ought to put it on the fireplace.

"-call me back when you get this," Daddy snapped into the phone as they all walked upstairs, "I swear to god if you don't get in touch soon I will track you down and string you up myself." Daddy pressed the end call button with more force than necessary and sank down into his chair looking exhausted.

"Now, where shall we put this?" Mrs Hudson asked, hovering the medal over the fireplace. "Here?"

Ava stared at Daddy, who looked worried and tired and then at the empty seat. Daddy had been worried all week, now that she'd thought about it and Sherlock had been snappy and disappearing all the time.

And he wasn't texting or answering his phone.

Amy Mills' Dad had done that before he'd left and upset her mum.

And Sherlock hadn't turned up to Sport's Day.

He'd not shown any interest in Sport's Day.

Angry, Ava turned back to the fireplace where Mrs Hudson had paused, watching them both with pity in her eyes.

Haughtily, Ava held out her hand for the medal, heart pounding as she thought about what she could do to punish Sherlock for being mean to Daddy and lying.

Mrs Hudson brightened a little and handed it over.

Chin tilting, Ava pushed the skull off the fireplace and watched it shatter. Then, when Daddy stared at her as if he'd never seen her before, placed her medal in its place and took herself upstairs.

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Daddy came up ages later and stood at the door.

"I know you're upset," he said carefully. "But that was wrong. That skull can't be replaced."

Ava glared at the wall, not responding.

"Ava," Daddy snapped.

"He upset you," she sulked.

"What?" Daddy started in surprise and then stepped a little closer. "What on earth-"

"He won't call or text," She scowled at her feet, "And you look sad and tired. He's being mean," she declared finally.

"No he's…" Daddy dropped down in front of her and made her look at him. When she did, he seemed to be at a loss. "He…I'm worried about him, not upset with him."

"He's a fibber," Ava squared her chin.

Daddy pulled back and shook his head. "I can't…" he scrubbed at red eyes.

"He's making you cry-" Ava started.

"Enough," Daddy hissed. "Just…enough." He stood up suddenly. "You stay in your room until you're ready to apologise-"

"He's not even here to say sorry to," Ava snapped.

Daddy looked mad. Really, really mad.

"Just stay in your room then," he snapped back and slammed the door behind him.

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Dinner had been bad. Instead of the chocolate cake she'd been promised and the praise for doing well in Sport's Day, they sat in silence with Daddy staring at his phone as if willing it ring.

The pie had been burnt and Daddy left her with Mrs Hudson straight after dinner.

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16th July

Sherlock stood in the doorway when Mrs Hudson sent her up the next morning. He looked tired and stood with his arms folded, glaring down at her.

"You've upset your father," he said frowning down at her.

Ava glared. "You're just mad 'cause I broke your skull."

And he was, she could tell from the flare in his eyes at the mention of it.

"And you're just mad because I didn't go to that sport's thing yesterday," he said, eyes narrowing.

"You said you would," Ava sulked, refusing to back down.

Sherlock's hand shot out and grabbed her chin, making her meet him stare for stare. It was a bit scary having him focus on her like that, the way he did Daddy or something important from a case.

But then the angry look softened and he moved, steering her to the fireplace. He crouched down beside her and took a deep breath.

"You can't replace the skull," he said sharply.

Ava glared at the spot where it had broken.

"And I can't undo not seeing you win," Sherlock continued in that same harsh tone.

Ava shifted her gaze to the medal that still sat on the fireplace and felt the tiniest flicker of guilt.

"I worried your father to the point of exhaustion and you upset him to the point of him throwing a temper fit and doing something ridiculously dangerous," Sherlock continued.

Ava felt miserable and swallowed back the tears that formed at the idea of upsetting Daddy, who was really the best Daddy in the whole wide world, even if he couldn't do a plait to save his life.

Sherlock let out a long breath. "Are we even?"

Ava stared at the medal. "I didn't break a promise," she said, stubbornly clinging onto the one thing that Sherlock may have done worse than she had, even as her voice wavered with tears.

Sherlock turned her around so that she was facing him, still looking angry. One glance at him made the blurred vision worse and she could feel a damp trickle making its way down her cheek. Sniffing, she tried to brush it away.

Sherlock dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, not even glancing at it as he fiddled with the buttons. As it came closer, she frowned, but let it press against her ear as the woman told her that she had seven saved messages.

Sherlock sped past the first two.

"Damn…" It was Daddy's voice, sounding frustrated, "You said it would be finished by now…If I find out you've gone off on some idiotic suicidal chase again, I'll never forgive you. You were meant to tell me if it was going to be bad…call you bloody git. Ava's Sport's Day starts in half an hour…don't you dare leave me alone with Mrs Hudson. You know she'll try and flirt with the head again."

Ava screwed up her nose at the idea of Mrs Hudson and Mr Browning.

Message four

"God knows why I keep calling. You've clearly turned your phone off…and I thought it was the one thing you didn't know how to do. It's almost starting, but she won't be racing for a while yet. So come here and tell me which parent is secretly doing the nanny or whatever deductions you want to make this time…" Daddy seemed to pause. "And please, please tell me you're being safe…"

Message five

Sherlock cut it off before that one started. "I didn't intend to break that promise," he said, watching her carefully. "I would have told your father if I had."

Ava stared at the phone and then at Sherlock.

"Was it dangerous?" she asked, feeling tears well up again at the idea he might have been hurt.

Sherlock avoided her gaze as he put his phone back in his pocket. "Your father worries a lot," he said evasively.

Ava squirmed and stared at the spot where the skulls usually was and then burst into tears.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I really wanted you there to see me run and you were being brave and I was being horrible and I upset Daddy and I didn't mean to and Mrs Hudson looked mad and she never looks mad and Daddy told me off and slammed the door and burnt the pie and you told me if anyone makes me eat bad food to call but you weren't there and he was mad and then he went out and I'll find a new skull and-"

Sherlock pulled her close and pressed a finger to her lips, halting the stream of words.

"I said we're even," he said fiercely. "Do not apologise."

Ava sniffed. "Daddy said I had to stay in my room until I did," she confessed.

"Apologise to him then," Sherlock stood. "And listen next time someone tries to tell you something."

Ava crept into Sherlock and Daddy's room while Sherlock stood at the door. She made her way over to Daddy who had fallen asleep still dressed and was close to the edge of the bed.

When she stopped next to his head, his eyes fluttered open.

They stared at each other for a long time.

"'m sorry Daddy," Ava whispered, lip wobbling as she saw how tired he looked and the bruise on his cheek.

Daddy just moved his arm, lifting up the covers, clearly inviting her in. She darted forward, snuggling into him and burying her nose under the crook of his neck as he dropped the covers back down and held her tightly.

"Me too," he whispered back and then she felt him stiffen.

"You shouldn't be up," he said over her head and turning them both so Daddy was sitting up and facing the door, Ava in his lap.

"You were snoring," Sherlock said, as if that explained everything, but he sounded closer. Ava turned and saw he was walking over to the other side of the bed.

"You all right?" Daddy asked, sounding concerned.

Sherlock didn't say anything but nodded as he perched on the edge, watching them both carefully. Daddy moved his hand so that his and Sherlock's touched. Ava stared at the sight, Daddy's sturdy rough hands against Sherlock's long, elegant ones.

And saw one of Sherlock's fingers brush over Daddy's in gentle, continuous, steadying strokes.

"Sherlock was being brave," she muttered, turning back to look at Daddy.

"I know," Daddy smiled down at her and rubbed his cheek against her hair. "Very brave."

"Like superhero brave?"

A slow, gleeful smile spread over Daddy's face. "You know, I think he was exactly that brave."

Behind her Sherlock clucked in annoyance. "Don't be an idiot," he huffed, the bed moving as he stood up again.

Daddy winked at Ava and she knew that everything would be alright again.

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Except it wasn't.

Sherlock barely came home and Ava went to stay with Mrs Hudson a lot more often. Uncle Mycroft, when he appeared, looked shattered as sat her down, not leaving her alone until she could recite four different phone numbers off by heart. Daddy's bruise faded but he kept looking tired and worried and always looked at his phone in concern when he was with her.

But they were being brave so she had to be brave too.

Chapter 10: Turning Six

Summary:

It's Ava's birthday and Sherlock is really busy off being brave.

18th June

"I want a rainbow cake," Ava announced as they sat watching 'Pointless', which was possibly the only game show on TV that Sherlock liked.

Apparently, it had become habit to have it on because Sherlock wasn't at home again.

Daddy nodded slowly. "A rainbow cake? Shaped like a rainbow?"

Rolling her eyes, Ava turned to look up at him. "No, then there would be less cake. I want a cake with rainbow colours."

Daddy made an annoyed sound. "I'd like," he corrected.

Ava nodded past it. "And with a flake. And smarties."

"Mrs Hudson is going to love you," Daddy jotted it down on a pad next to him. Ava grinned, loving the fact that Daddy was making notes like he did when he and Sherlock were on a case. It made her feel as if she was really grown up.

Which she was; she was about to be six!

"What about your birthday party then?" Daddy asked, drawing a line.

Ava shook her head. "But we go to the park."

Daddy paused and looked up at her, the notepad balancing on the arm of the chair and pen hovering in his hand. "The park?" he repeated blankly.

Scowling now, Ava pursed her lips. "Daddy!" she huffed, sure that he was being purposefully silly. "We always go to the park."

Daddy still stared at her as if she'd suddenly started spouted French, like Sherlock did that one time. "Right…" he glanced down at the pad as if seeing it for the first time. "Ava…we can go to the park as well-"

"But everyone has a birthday party," Ava whined, standing up to look at the list. "And Tommy's always sick and it means I have to invite people I don't like so no-one gets left out."

Daddy's eyes warmed a little. "But who's going to eat the cake?" he asked throwing up his hands in a silly way.

Ava hadn't thought about that.

"Well," she scuffed her foot against his chair. "Maybe I could take it into school," she said looking hopeful. "I promise I'll make sure there's some left for you and Sherlock…" Ava frowned, "If Sherlock likes cake," she said, unsure.

Daddy pulled her into his lap, tickling her until she wriggled and squealed. "I tell you what," he said when he stopped and just let her shift so she could see the TV again, "how about we make your party the Friday before your birthday? Then we can rent out the hall across the street from school and everyone can go straight there after lessons are done and you won't to see the people you don't like for very long at all."

Ava debated that. "But we can still go to the park?" she checked.

"Of course," Daddy said, giving her a proper cuddle.

He gave the best cuddles.

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6th June

The party turned out to be pretty cool, even if Tommy threw up twice.

In fact it made it cooler because it was like her party held the record!

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"I'm going to be six tomorrow," she told Daddy as she bounded down to him in her pajamas and then stopped when she saw he was on the phone.

Adults were so weird about phone conversations, she'd found.

But Daddy, unusually for him, beckoned her over, put the phone between his shoulder and ear then pulled her up to his lap.

"I am not telling your brother he's fat….because he isn't, not everyone looks like an overgrown beansprout…don't start…for god's sakes I'm agreeing with you about the rest."

Ava grinned into Daddy's shirt that still smelt like party rings. She wasn't sure how that was possible, but it did. Only Sherlock got to be scolded like that. And, if Daddy was scolding, it meant that everything was alright and Sherlock didn't have to be brave today.

"Will you be back tonight?" Daddy asked and Ava peeked up in interest.

But Daddy's face fell a little bit and his hand started to stroke her back a bit.

No Sherlock. Ava settled back down, trying not to feel disappointed and glancing at the medal that sat where Sherlock's skull used to sit; her reminder to keep her temper and remember that Sherlock had to do important things because he was so very clever.

That's what Daddy had said anyway.

Then Daddy tapped her nose and she glanced up.

Daddy gave her the phone.

"'llo?" she asked.

"I assume you drove your father mad at your party?" Sherlock asked, his voice tinny from the phone.

This was awesome! Ava sat up flashing a grin at Daddy who looked amused.

"I was good," Ava preened. "But Tommy threw up twice. Almost on Daddy's shoes the second time,"

"Ah. Well, maybe next time," Sherlock dismissed. "Is John looking better?"

Ava turned to study Daddy. "Yes," she smiled at him, "He had party rings and laughed at Mrs Hudson when she danced with Mr Finley."

There was a long pause before Sherlock replied. "You both managed then?" he asked.

Ava nodded, before remembering that he couldn't see her. "Yes," she said quickly.

There was a bit of a pause.

"It's my last night as a five year old," Ave boasted as Daddy shifted so that she was on the chair while he got up to answer the door. "And Daddy and I are going to the park tomorrow."

"He said. He's looking forward to it." And she could hear in his voice that, while he didn't completely understand it, Sherlock was pleased it made Daddy happy.

Ava watched as Daddy disappeared down the stairs. "If I'm six tomorrow, how many more years do I have to wait until I get to come on case too?" she asked eagerly.

Sherlock made a noise that sounded as if she'd amused him. "Still a while yet," he replied, his tone much softer than before.

"Well what about when I'm seven?" she asked.

"No," Sherlock sounded as if he was paying a lot more attention to her now, and the background noise wasn't as loud. "Try twenty seven."

"But then you'll be really old." Ava wrinkled her nose. "You'll be like…" she frowned trying to remember her number-lines and how old Sherlock was. "Did you have a birthday?" she asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said, suddenly sounding sharper, "Go and attempt to do your job," he snapped at someone on his side of the phone.

"Is Anderson being stupid again?" Ava asked as Daddy came back in.

"Even a five year old can tell your incompetence from miles away," Sherlock added and she could hear the glee in his voice as he reacted to what she'd said.

"Nearly six," she corrected him.

Sherlock chuckled and then sighed. "Is your father still there?"

Ava nodded as Daddy knelt by the chair. "Yes," she said remembering again that he couldn't see her.

"Well…" Sherlock seemed uncomfortable. "Good night then"

"You have to say it special because it's the last time you get to say goodnight to me as a five year old."

There was a very long pause this time and Daddy leaned and pressed speakerphone, pressing his finger to his lips to tell Ava not to make a comment about that.

"I don't imagine you'll consider not turning six tomorrow?" Sherlock asked sounding a bit funny.

"Nope," Ava grinned at Daddy. "I want to be sixteen and have a phone of my own."

"At least then your father would refrain from putting me on speakerphone," Sherlock sulked. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Ava gasped in delight. "How did you know?" she squeaked.

"I'll tell you tomorrow," Sherlock sounded a bit happier. "The quicker you go to sleep the quicker you'll turn six."

That was true.

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7th July

"I'm six!" Ava declared as she ran down the next morning.

Daddy nodded, then stopped and stared at her.

"You look older," he frowned seriously and then measured her height against him, "And taller!" he added shaking his head. "We've had this conversation before; you're not supposed to grow up this quickly."

Ava beamed. "You think I'm taller," she looked around, trying to decide if she was looking at things from a different angle.

"Definitely," Daddy hoisted her up. "See, much taller."

Ava giggled into his neck. "That's cheating."

Daddy laughed and popped her into a chair. "Right birthday girl, what will it be for breakfast?"

"Presents!" Ava chirped. "Please Daddy?"

"Breakfast first," Daddy said firmly. "Orange bread?"

"Yeah," Ava bit her lip and watched Daddy put the bread into the toaster. "When are we going to the park?"

Daddy laughed. "We have all day Ava, calm down."

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Ava loved St James' Park. It had that long, long pond and Buckingham Palace was looming behind it. There were herons and funny birds flapping around. Daddy would make voice for them as they stood at the fence and he would pretend that there was a whole play going on just for her.

And the squirrels were so tame that sometimes, if you were really lucky, they'd crawl up you and take a nut from your hand.

Ava was always lucky on her birthday.

The ice-cream stall stood on the outskirts and was packed because it was such a lovely Saturday. Daddy bought them both a '99 that wasn't 99p anymore and they sat on a bench watching the tourists.

And Daddy would tell her things about them. Not like Sherlock did, at rapid fire and without tact but silly things that made her grin and he explained carefully how he did it in a way that Sherlock never did. He wasn't as good as Sherlock but, after a while, he had her try with a few obvious people.

Then they walked across the streets and Daddy hauled her up so that she didn't get tired. They walked to the bridge and took the path down to the path by the river, watching the street entertainment that danced there by the stalls that had been set up for the summer.

Daddy even treated her to a game of air hockey when they reached the amusement arcade.

Then, when it got late Daddy flagged down a taxi.

But they didn't go home.

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"A real restaurant?" Ava asked as they got out of the taxi.

"As opposed to the fake kind?" Daddy asked paying the man.

Ava didn't even bother to glare at him; it was just too brilliant. "Am I allowed to have wine?"

"Nice try," Daddy muttered as they walked in.

"Doctor Watson," the man greeted them eagerly. "And this must be the little one."

Ava scowled up at him. She was six!

"Your table," The man pointed to one by the kitchen, "As asked for."

Daddy nodded spotting it, his eyes darting for a moment and then he sighed. "Just us two then?"

The man nodded sadly.

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The pasta was really nice but the bestest part was the desert. A huge ice-cream sundae with brownies and sparklers and whipped cream and sauce.

Daddy eyed it in an unimpressed way and then asked for a spoon so he could help her out, muttering something about teeth and being ill.

And weirdly, when Daddy tried to pay, the man just shook his head.

"On the house. Anything for Sherlock's family."

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8th July

Being six and one day wasn't too different to being just six. She still felt a little bit taller and Daddy let her play with all her presents and organise her new clothes. In fact he watched her most of the day with a strange look on his face, his phone never far from his side.

"You're not mad?" he asked her as he tucked her in that night. "Sherlock was meant to come to dinner with us yesterday, that's why he didn't call."

Ava nodded. "It's ok," she said seriously. "I'm six now, I understand."

Daddy sat on the edge of the bed. "You understand what?" he asked cautiously

"That he's doing very important things," Ava said with a small smile. "And he made sure you got to be here," Ava shrugged.

Daddy tilted her chin up. "As long as you understand, Ava, that when Sherlock isn't here, when I'm not here, it isn't because there are things that are more important than you going on. It's because it's urgent and sometimes because we're trying to keep you…" Daddy suddenly stopped and seemed to think better of what he was about to say. "You're very important, do you know that?"

Ava nodded as she snuggled down with Charlie-Bear. "I know."

Daddy grinned as he kissed goodnight.

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Daddy woke her up while it was still light outside.

"Wakey, wakey," he said gently.

Ava glared up at him and tried to wriggle into her pillow.

"You need to get dressed."

No, she didn't. She needed to sleep and get back into the wonderful dream that was already blurring in her mind.

Then the unusualness of it woke her up a bit and she rolled back over to yawn up at Daddy with curiosity.

"Up you get sleepy head."

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Daddy made sure that she was wrapped up, even though it had been warm during the day.

"It's school tomorrow," Ava told him.

"If you're very tired you can miss it," Daddy allowed.

That was new!

That was ace!

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Sherlock was waiting downstairs.

Sucking in a breath, Ava leapt the last few stairs and jumped straight at him, feeling him stagger as he moved to catch her quickly. She buried her head into his shoulder, breathing in the wonderful smell of his fancy coat and the wild smell that was just him.

Pulling back she grinned up at him.

"I'm six."

"And a flying monkey apparently," Sherlock scolded. Daddy followed her down, without the leap.

"All right?" Daddy asked and Sherlock nodded once.

"Are you sure-" Daddy begun.

"Do I look like an idiot?" Sherlock asked, letting Ava slide to the floor.

Daddy raised an eyebrow at that. "In the cleverest of ways…" he trailed off, leaning against the wall.

"Where are we going?" Ava asked glancing between them and then in awe at the time. It was after half eight in the evening!

"You and Sherlock are going out for an hour," Daddy explained with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Why aren't you coming?" Ava asked concerned, going over and staring up at him.

"I have a meeting." Daddy stroked a strand of hair back behind her ears. He looked over at Sherlock and swallowed

A long fingered hand wove its way in front of her and covered her eyes and she could feel Sherlock close behind her. Then she was almost squished between them and there was the definite sound of snogging above her.

She screwed up her nose, knowing the Sherlock would feel the movement with where his hand was over her eyes.

"We're upsetting your daughter," Sherlock said after a minutes as they broke apart.

Daddy rolled his eyes.

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Sherlock took her on the tube. It was pretty quiet as it was a Sunday evening and he seemed to know exactly where everything was and where to go. He never even glanced at the maps on the walls of the tunnels.

Eventually, they got to wherever it was they were going to and, as they left the station they were faced with a huge column that looked almost like something she's seen in her topic work when they'd studied ancient Greece.

Sherlock pushed gently on her back to indicate that they needed to cross the street and they wandered around it until they came to a door.

Inside was a tiny counter and the woman smiled at Sherlock and nodded them up.

"What is this?" Ava asked as Sherlock swung her into his arms.

"Monument," Sherlock said, as if that would explain everything. It must have shown on her face that she didn't have a clue because she felt his chest rumble as he started to climb the stairs.

"Have you heard the story about the great fire of London?" he asked.

Ava nodded. "A baker left the bread in the oven too long. It's why we have to remind Mrs Hudson sometimes not to get too distracted by countdown."

Sherlock snorted. "Something like that," he agreed. "This was built where the fire started."

Ava stared up at the spiral staircase as they continued to climb. "Isn't there a lift?" she asked, realising just how far up they might have to go.

"No." Sherlock shifted her again. "I'll carry you back down again."

Sherlock had to be pretty strong to manage that, Ava thought.

"Why are we here though?" she asked as the stairs went on forever.

"It's my present to you," Sherlock said, sounding a tiny bit strained now. "You told me once that you wanted to learn all the streets like I had."

Ava gasped, "Really?"

Sherlock nodded as they came to the top.

It was amazing. Ava drew in a deep breath as Sherlock took her to the edge and let her look out at the landscape below. There was a cage around the top which blocked a lot of the view but it was still incredible.

"When I first came to London," Sherlock murmured into her ear, "I wanted to be able to know exactly where I was at all times. Everyone here acts as if they know it perfectly, but they only know their own routes." His grip tightened on her. "So I snuck up here one night and started to map it all out on my head."

Ava snuggled backwards, trying to take everything in.

"And when you're older we'll come up when the cage is off so we can see clearly."

"Can't we take it off now?" Ava begged.

Sherlock shook his head, his chin brushing against her hair. "Not tonight."

And then he started to teach her. He showed her the Gherkin that looked like a shining bullet in the setting sun, Tower Bridge and the war boat that was always close to it. There was The Tower of London and St Pauls' domed roof. He made it into a game where he let her down and she had to run to where she thought the best view of each landmark would be, and then he would lift her up so she could see just how right or wrong she was.

And he had some paper in his coat and he let her draw a rough map with the landmarks she could see and the river as it twisted its way through the city.

"How high up are we?"

"Two hundred and two feet," Sherlock replied and then, seeing her blank look he smiled. "There are three hundred and fourteen steps."

Ava stared. That seemed like an awful lot. "But there are 14 at home," she reminded him.

Sherlock nodded." It's much taller."

Ava stared at him with newfound respect. "Are you going to be able to get us back down?" she asked doubtfully.

"Of course."

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When they finally got back down, Sherlock let her wander around the base to study the inscriptions as he leaned against the wall texting.

After studying the carvings on one side she wandered around to see that Sherlock had finished texting and was staring at the inscriptions on one of the panels.

"What's it say?" Ava asked.

Sherlock was silent for a long time. "You don't want me to read all of that to you, surely."

"The important bit?" Ava wheedled, winding around him catlike. "Or the bit that you're staring at."

In the coming dark it almost seemed like he was smiling. "'...three short years complete that which was considered the work of an age'."

Ava frowned. "What's that mean?"

Sherlock scooped her up again. "That in a very short amount of time sometimes that which seemed so unlikely can happen very quickly."

Ava didn't have the heart to tell him that made even less sense to her. But, as she fell asleep in the taxi, she just about heard his voice murmuring a very quiet happy birthday to her.

Chapter 11: Synonyms

Summary:

Ava ends up in trouble at school when she gets into a fight about synonyms.

July 10th

"We had a new teacher today," Ava told Daddy as they sat down to eat dinner with Mrs Hudson. Daddy had spent most of the time staring at his phone as if he could make it ring or buzz just by glaring at it. "Mrs Brooks."

"Is she nice?" Mrs Hudson asked blowing on the potatoes.

"I don't know." Ava shrugged, "I don't like her as much as Mrs Parker. Mrs Parker has nicer hair."

"Now that's hardly the way to judge someone," Mrs Hudson scolded.

"And she's even older than you are," Ava added, shovelling in her peas to get them over and done with.

Daddy snapped his gaze from the phone, "Don't be cheeky," he muttered.

"I'm not. She is..." Ava paused and then studied Mrs Hudson. "I think she is...are you older than fifty?"

Mrs Hudson smiled, "I'm twenty four."

Twenty four?

Ava darted her gaze between Daddy and Mrs Hudson suspiciously. Something wasn't right with that. Confused she pushed her vegetables around the plate, trying to work out what was going on.

Daddy was trying not to laugh, she could tell. But why would anyone fib about their age to make themselves younger? You got to do loads more when you were older.

Like not eat peas.

Sherlock never seemed to. Unless it was in the special rice.

Grown-ups were strange.

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"Don't push me out of this Sherlock. I'm not fucking useless," Daddy yelled sounding madder than she'd ever heard him sound before. "I want him gone as much as you do-"

"I doubt that." Sherlock's voice snapped back.

There was a long silence.

"No, you're probably right," Daddy sounded mean. "How dull would life be without Jim Moriarty toying with us? I swear Sherlock, there are days when it seems the only reason you don't catch him is because you don't want to."

The door slammed shut a minute later.

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July 11th

Daddy took her to school, stonily silent and snapping at her when she forgot her PE kit. She'd wanted to tell him about her bad dream but she was slowly starting to suspect that it might have been real.

She worried it over as they marched to school.

"Have a good day," Daddy said mechanically as they got to the gates.

"Bye Daddy," she replied, pressing a sort-of hug to his leg and then running off to her friends before he said anything.

He was gone when she glanced back.

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After that it was Mrs Hudson who took her to school and picked her up in the afternoon. Daddy popped back in for her dinner and bedtime but always seemed distracted.

When she asked Mrs Hudson she just sighed and looked a bit sad.

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July 16th

The teacher, Mrs Brooks, paused. The red pen hovering over Ava's book. Next to Ava, Beth Marshal grinned in that annoying way that meant she thought that she was about to be proved right.

She wasn't.

Ava glanced back at the board, just to check.

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Synonyms. Different words that have similar meanings.

LO: To understand what synonyms mean and to use them to extend our vocabulary.

Task: Think of different words that could be used instead of the following ones.

A) Cold

B) Wet

C) Old

D) Light

E) Soft

F) Sad

G) Dad.

H) Good

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Nope. She'd done it right.

She resisted the urge to poke her tongue out at Beth though. That would get her in trouble. Instead she peered around the hand that remained above her book and at her list and then glanced up at Mrs Brooks expectantly.

The pen fell and crossed out one of her words, and then the teacher moved on.

Ava stared at the crossing out and then at the teachers back.

"Told you," Beth smirked, going back to her perfectly ticked list.

Ava looked down and up again, then reached for a pen, instead of a pencil. The thickest and blackest one she could see in the pencil pot on the table and poked her tongue between her teeth as she re-wrote the word.

Beth stared at her wide-eyed, as did Hannah and Joe.

"It's wrong," Beth hissed.

"No it isn't," Ava insisted, folding her arms and refusing to go on to the next task. What was the point if the teacher was stupid? Only really stupid people did what stupid people told them.

At least that's what Sherlock said at Easter when they'd gone on holiday.

She almost wanted Mrs Brooks to try crossing it out again. She'd have to scribble all over the page to get rid of the word now.

"Yes it is," Beth started again.

Ava glared, chin poking out in the way that had Daddy sigh and Sherlock raise an amused eyebrow.

"It is," Beth insisted. "You're being stupid,"

What if she were wrong? There was a moment where she wondered what Daddy and Sherlock would say if they saw the page.

What if they said she was wrong?

Tears blurred her eyes as she shoved at Beth, wanting to make her stop talking. But it must have been harder than she meant it to be, or Beth must have been rocking on her chair again, because instead of just moving away, the chair tipped and Beth crashed to the floor.

Between the tears streaming from her face Ava stared in horror as the whole class went silent apart from Beth's wails. Mrs Brooks turned and stared in the disappointed way that teachers did.

Then she rushed forward to Beth.

"Stand outside and wait for me to come and talk to you," Mrs Brooks clipped at Ava.

Ava glanced at her work, suddenly wanting to just curl in on herself and hide. Mrs Brooks followed her gaze and a funny expression passed over her face.

"Go outside," she repeated.

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"Fighting?" Daddy said for the tenth time in disbelief. "Fighting?"

Ava stared out the taxi window.

"Are you listening to me?" Daddy reached out and tapped at her chin gently to turn her face back to him. "This isn't like you."

Ava shrugged.

"Ava-"

"You and Sherlock are fighting," she said swallowing. "You're being hippo like if you tell me off."

Daddy closed his eyes and sat back. "Hypocritical?" he asked sounding tired.

Ava nodded. It sounded like the word she'd once heard Sherlock yell at Mycroft when Daddy was in hospital.

Daddy stared out the window. "You gave the other little girl a bruise-"

"She deserved it."

Silence.

Daddy seemed frozen as he stared at Ava in disbelief. "That's Sherlock talking" he said after a moment.

"She was being mean-"

"I can't believe this," Daddy said shaking his head, "Ava, no matter what Sherlock says, or what reason you had, you do not hit people,"

"I shoved her," Ava said stubbornly.

Daddy's eyes flashed with temper. "You will apologise tomorrow," he said firmly. "And your teacher said you'd been argumentative."

"I didn't say anything to her-" Ava started

"Enough," Daddy shook his head and then softened when he was her lip tremble. "Ava..." he seemed to deflate when a tear dripped out and ran down her cheek. With a muttered oath he shifted so he was sat next to her and pulled her against him, letting her bury into his coat.

"I know it's been a hard year," he whispered to her, "And I know things have been bad at the moment. Sherlock..." Daddy sighed. "There's a very bad man who is being very mean to Sherlock. The last time he was being this mean, Sherlock did something very silly. That's why we're fighting. See Sherlock thinks it's his job to protect me and I think it's my job to protect him."

Ava turned her face up to Daddy, "You keep yelling at each other," she sobbed. "He stormed out once."

Daddy smiled, "Trust me, with Sherlock that was him being nice during an argument." Daddy shifted and hauled her onto his lap. "It's just...the bad man, he's..." Daddy tipped his head back and seemed to ponder about what to say, "He's someone that I want to shove most of the time. But you can't do that Ava, it doesn't solve anything when you're at school."

"What about when I'm big?"

Daddy brushed her hair away from her tears, "What, when other adults are being mean to you?"

Ava nodded, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

"Then I suppose you'll have to decide what to do. That is if I haven't dealt with them first." he winked at her.

Ava snuggled into him. "Why don't you get someone to tell the bad man off?"

Daddy wrapped an arm around her, "Because he doesn't care about the rules sweetheart and he doesn't listen to them."

Ava shivered into him, "Is he as bad as Scar from the Lion King?"

Daddy swallowed, "Sort of," he seemed to be struggling with something and his hold on her tightened.

"Is Sherlock going to get hurt?"

Daddy just shook his head against hers, "No. He's too clever to get hurt." He said fiercely, in a way that reminded her of how Sherlock had talked the night Daddy had been hurt. "Listen," he pulled away from her a bit so that they could see each other's face and Ava could see how serious he was. "No matter what happens, when this is all over we're going to make this up to you. I know it's hard at the moment and it must be scary not seeing us sometimes but once the bad man gets...told off...that will be it."

"No more fighting?" Ava asked.

Daddy winced, "No more not seeing each other for days on end." he promised.

Ava sat back and sighed, "I still think Beth was being mean," she complained.

Daddy stroked her hair, "Follow the rules Ava. It keeps everyone happy."

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Ava couldn't sleep that night.

Daddy had stayed in with her and had gone to bed early. But the book in her bag seemed to be burning a hole in her carpet.

Somehow she managed to fall asleep in a fitful doze until the long, drawn out sound of the violin drifted upstairs.

Ava stayed awake staring over her covers at her bag. When the clock on the table next to her turned to three she sat up, padded across the room, pulled the book from her bag and made her way downstairs.

She and Daddy could both sleep through the violin when they wanted to and the light was off in Daddy and Sherlock's room. Ava peeked around the door when the violin halted and Sherlock turned his head to the side, casting a look over his shoulder.

"You should be in bed," he said, placing the violin back in its case.

"Couldn't sleep," Ava said firmly. "Did Daddy tell you what happened?"

Sherlock shook his head as he did up the case.

"I got sent home from school for fighting."

The long, elegant fingers paused in what they were doing and Sherlock raised his eyes to her. "Did you win?"

Ava smiled down at her book. "Daddy and I had a chat about it." She said nodding.

One eye narrowed at her, "Then you have come to tell me what exactly?"

"Daddy didn't want to hear why." She rolled her eyes when he looked doubtful. "He didn't want to know what happened at school because we were talking about home."

Sherlock's mouth opened and then he closed it and looked away. "He explained it?"

Ava nodded, "You have to find a way to tell the bad man off."

The faintest smile appeared on Sherlock's face, "Is that what John said?"

Ava nodded.

Sherlock seemed to be scrutinising her and then shifted, "Tell me what happened then,"

Ava held out her book. "The teacher told me it was wrong. And Beth kept saying it was wrong..." She didn't let go when he reached out to take it, "And...I got scared that I was wrong," she confessed. "'Cause I don't think I was and I don't want to be wrong."

Sherlock's mouth twitched, "I can appreciate that," he said hands closing around the book.

Ava still didn't let go, suddenly scared. But Sherlock must have caught her look because he tilted his head to the side and tugged.

"Be brave," he suggested. "You've already gotten into trouble for it. You may as well see it all the way through."

Ava forced her fingers to let go.

"Last page?" Sherlock asked flicking through rapidly.

Ava nodded. Sherlock looked at her over the turning pages with disapproval.

"Yes," she said, almost managing not to make her voice wobble.

Sherlock stopped.

Everything about him stopped. He stared at the page as if it held the answers to the universe and the longer he stared the more Ava started to glance at the stairs and wish she could just sneak back up.

"You rewrote it," Sherlock said suddenly, his voice oddly hoarse.

"I didn't want her to cross it out again." Ava said biting her lip and staring at the carpet under Sherlock's shoes.

"Your teacher...she said it was wrong?"

Ava nodded miserably, almost sure that he was about to agree, "So did Beth." she added.

"You...that's the girl you had a fight with?"

"I shoved her," Ava protested, "It wasn't my fault the chair tipped over. I have to apologise tomorrow."

Sherlock remained silent.

Be brave.

"I'll apologise." Ava said, jutting out her chin and took a deep, terrified breath, "If you say I have to."

Sherlock dropped his gaze back to the book and then raised it slowly at her.

"You have a pen?" he asked.

Ava glanced around and spotted one on the table. Sherlock was unreadable when she handed it back to him. He just folded the book over and started to write on the page.

"There," he said when he'd finished. "You should apologise to the girl if you shoved her. And only for the shove."

"And the teacher?" Ava asked taking the closed book when he held it out to her.

"Not your problem." Sherlock said. "Now, bed."

Ava turned, feeling a little confused.

It was only when she got upstairs that she switched on the light after putting the covers over it to sound out what he'd written.

And there, under the answers for synonym G, where she'd written and rewritten Sherlock, was his looped writing.

It took her ages to sound it all out and work out what he'd written but when she did she hugged the book to her and fell asleep like that.

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Ava is correct. If you have an issue with it speak to me or John, not my daughter.

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July 17th

It was the first thing she thrust at Mrs Brooks after Mrs Hudson dropped her off that morning.

Mrs Brooks read it over and over again.

"We'll talk about it later," she said with an oddly sad look on her face.

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But they didn't. Mrs Hudson picked her up and took her straight back to the downstairs flat where a few DVDs and her pyjamas were waiting in the spare bedroom.

"They won't be back 'till far too late tonight," Mrs Hudson said gently, "So we'll be having a girl's night in tonight."

And that was ok because she still had the book she'd refused to give in to the book monitors. And, when she went to sleep it was with Charlie Bear and the book tucked up under her arm.

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July 18th

They left really early for school the next day.

"Why?"

Mrs Hudson smiled at her as they weaved down the pavement. "Your teacher phoned up last night and asked to see you early to talk about your behaviour the other day."

Ava screwed up her nose, "I don't want to go to school early." She complained, imagining catching the teachers in their dressing gowns.

"Well then maybe you shouldn't get into fights."

"I shoved her," Ava complained, annoyed with the accusation. "She didn't fight back so it wasn't a fight,"

Mrs Hudson shot her a disapproving look.

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Mrs Hudson stayed with her for the talk. Ava got bored halfway through them talking about which berries worked best in a tart and let her attention roam.

On the board was a word that she narrowed her gaze at trying to work it out.

It looked like Elevators, but it didn't end right. There was a "n" at the end and there wasn't a "n" sound in Elevators.

"If you need to shoot off..." Mrs Brooks offered.

And it ended the way that station ended...

"Oh, of you don't mind," Mrs Hudson smiled looking thankful, "I can beat the queues."

Elevation.

Mrs Hudson hated queues almost as much as Sherlock hated stupid people.

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They still had twenty minutes before the rest of the school came in and Mrs Brooks hadn't said a word. She'd gone to her desk, torn something and scrawled in her messy handwriting. Now she seemed to be typing furiously and doing her best to ignore Ava.

And she kept looking at her phone like it might explode.

When it went off she stood and looked at Ava as if she were about to say something. Then she looked at the board and slumped her shoulders, walking away.

Ava looked around, bored and then darted to the teacher's desk. Normally she wouldn't dare, but with so long to go until school and it being so quiet she felt suddenly emboldened.

On the top was her book and her special page pulled out from it. Angry she grabbed it and squinted when she saw something written on it and a printed card next to it that matched the words that were ruining her work.

Oops!

How could I resist?

The door opened, prompting her to dart back from the desk, ready to protest and threaten Sherlock on Mrs Brooks for ruining her work.

But it wasn't Mrs Brooks.

Chapter 12: On the edge

Summary:

Ava has her suspicions about Uncle Jim...

July 18th - 9.30am

Despite what Uncle Jim told her she wasn't sure she believed that they were waiting for Sherlock. Ava had never heard Uncle Jim's name mentioned before and Sherlock hated her even calling Mycroft Uncle, despite everything.

Though maybe that was just because it was Mycroft.

They'd snuck out of school because it was a game and because when Ava had tried to find someone as they were walking there had been no-one. And Uncle Jim had barked suddenly at her and then smiled in a scary way.

The hotel was pretty though. It had fluffy cushions that felt like cats fur when you rubbed your hand against it. And there were pretty ornaments. It was all sleek and shining, nothing like the warm, cosy edges of home.

It didn't even have any books.

It was pretty boring to be honest.

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July 18th –11.45am

"Shall we play a game?" Uncle Jim suddenly asked. There were a few people in the hotel with them and all of them had been talking on phones and sounding very happy about something.

Ava looked around suspiciously, wanting to know the game before she agreed to anything.

"Not card games," she offered finally. Julie Briggs had bought in snap yesterday and a really weird version of slap which actually involved slapping.

Mrs Brooks had only broken it up halfway through break. Mrs Parker would have seen it immediately.

"Oh no, see, this is a different kind of game," Uncle Jim said, making his voice go all spooky and mysterious. Despite herself Ava giggled and bit her lip, intrigued and wondering of it was something she could play with Sherlock.

Uncle Jim lifted her on to his lap.

"See these two here?" he said, as two struggling men were brought in.

Ava nodded, feeling a tingle of worry that she ignored. Maybe they were acting out a play?

"They've not done their job properly. They've been lazy and uncooperative and have morals or something," Uncle Jim shook his head in disappointment. "Do they sound like good employees to you?" he asked her.

Morals…Ava frowned, sure that she'd heard Daddy and Sherlock talk about that before but they seemed to joke about it most of the time.

"You shouldn't be lazy," she said finally. Daddy hated laziness. He scolded Sherlock when he spent four days in his dressing gown once.

"It's naughty," Jim agreed. "Very naughty. So what do you think? Shall we let them go?"

"You make me sick!" One of the men sneered at Uncle Jim.

"You need medicine then," Ava twisted to try and see Uncle Jim.

"What a clever idea," Uncle Jim laughed. "Why don't we dish out some medicine?"

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July 18th - 12.00pm

The man who had spoken was told to stand up. And they injected something into him.

Then the man gasped and started to shake.

And scream.

Horrified Ava twisted to try and get Uncle Jim's attention so he could stop it but Uncle Jim didn't seem worried at all. Instead he was grinning and the light grip turned to rock and he held her utterly steady, facing the man.

And when she closed her eyes he gripped her chin, hard enough to make her open them again.

"No,no,no,no, watch," he said mildly, "You prescribed the treatment after all."

Ava watched the man's contorting face and screamed.

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July 18th - 1.30pm

The other man was standing in front of them now, his dead friend at the side, still staring in horror up at Ava.

She'd already been sick in the bin. But it hadn't been like last time when Daddy and Sherlock had been there. This time Jim had just looked annoyed and a bit peeved before handing her a glass of water.

She wanted Daddy.

Sniffling she stared wide-eyed at Jim, doing everything she could to not look at the man lying on the floor.

His eyes wouldn't stop staring at her.

It was nothing…she'd had dead eyes stare at her before…Sherlock had a fish eye and a cows eye and a human eye in the kitchen once, testing the differences they had.

She wanted Sherlock to explain the scariness away. What if ghosts were real and the man came back for her because she'd told them how to hurt him? Because Jim was horrible and he had to be some kind of monster and if they were real then anything could be real.

"Stop CRYING!" Jim shouted suddenly, turning to her.

Terrified she pressed her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pretend that she was at home and Sherlock and Daddy were arguing over whose turn it was to buy the shopping.

But the tears still fell and it was hard to be quiet when no-one came over to hug her.

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July 18th - 2.15

Both men now stared blankly ahead. The second one had a hole in his chest from a gun.

And they were both in the bedroom with her.

Jim had been annoyed by her sniffles and bored by the man.

Ava sat as far away from them as she could manage and didn't dare to let herself sob.

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July 18th – 3.30

Jim was laughing. Properly laughing. Gleeful fits rolled around the room as he chortled down the phone.

"I was getting worried I'd completely miscalculated. You seemed so unmoved by the whole affair," Jim sing-songed with delight. "Or were you so wonderfully distracted by my little puzzle that you forgot to look at anything else?"

Whoever was on the other side of the phone made Jim sigh.

"Now that's just so predictable. You really are getting worse with age," Jim tutted hung up and practically danced his way down to the armchair.

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18th July - 6.00pm

Ava hadn't eaten since Mrs Hudson had sat her down for breakfast in the morning. Her stomach growled with hunger but her throat closed at the mere idea of food.

And Jim kept talking and wouldn't let her sleep, He blasted out music and talked to people on the phone with a spring in his step.

Then it changed.

He froze and turned the music off.

"Repeat that," he snarled in such a way that Ava almost tried to scramble into the sofa to hide.

"The Holmes brothers couldn't coordinate to tie their shoelaces." Jim sneered, "Let alone-"

He trailed off and listened to the person on the other end of the line and stared slowly up at the ceiling. Beside him the two men, who always seemed to be around, looked very nervous.

Tears started to flow down Ava's cheeks again.

And slowly, like something from the horror film she'd watched when Daddy was in hospital, Jim turned his head to her and stared with those hollow eyes.

Ava stared back, wide-eyed and terrified.

"Well, well," Jim said, sounding as if he were on another plant, "We aren't the same anymore."

And then he grinned and closed his eyes as if in relief.

Hanging up the phone he stepped towards her.

"This time," he whispered, bending down to stroke her hair, "This time."

He looked pleased, strangely and insanely pleased.

"Our final solution," he pressed a kiss to her forehead and then walked away.

Ava only allowed herself to breathe again once he'd left the room.

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18th July -7.30

"Oh I have no need of you," Jim said, sounding rather bored. "Go away."

The men stared at each other in disbelief.

And when they all finally left, Ava almost begged them to take her with them.

But Jim kept holding her hand and wouldn't let go.

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18th July – 8.00pm

Jim got them down to the street and into a car that she'd never seen before. There was a driver and Jim made Ava duck her head as they sat in the back seat.

"Your Uncle seems to be a little excessive today," Jim mentioned calmly.

Ava tried to pretend that she was riding in Uncle Mycroft's car.

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18th July 8.30pm

They were at a place that looked like the hospital that Daddy had taken her by once last year, the one that had made him look very pale when they'd crossed the street.

Ava and Jim climbed the stairs. Up and up and up until Ava's legs shook. Jim didn't stop to help her, just tightened his grip and pulled a bit firmer.

Sherlock had carried her up even more stairs she remembered. For her birthday. And Daddy carried her across the road when they went to the park.

Ava couldn't stop shaking .

"Not long now," Jim smiled down at her, "We'll be back down before you know it."

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They went through a door that led to the roof. At least that was what Ava thought it was. It was freezing being up so high; she was still wearing only her thin summer school dress as Jim hadn't bothered to pick up her coat when he'd taken her.

Exhausted Ava stumbled to her knees when Jim finally stopped dragging her. The floor was harsh and uneven, dragging across her knees and grazing them. Her eyes watered and usually she would be sobbing for attention.

Instead she pressed her lips together and tried not to make a noise.

"Did you know that Sherlock and I once had a lovely chat up here? Just before you were born?"

If she was quiet and didn't move maybe he'd forget that she was-

"Did you know?" his shoes came into view and she flinched back, shaking her head.

"I told him he had to jump otherwise I'd have your father killed."

Ava stared up at Jim in confusion. Jump?

Jim reached down and grabbed her arm again, hauling her over. When Ava caught a glimpse of the rise of concrete with seemingly nothing on the other side she panicked and tried to dig her heels or stop him from pulling her.

Her legs just scrapped against the rough surface.

Jim forced her to the edge so she could see the drop on the other side and then clamped a hand over her mouth when she screamed, dulling the noise.

They were high. So high that the people below looked like dolls. And this time there wasn't a metal cage to keep her safe or great thick walls or Sherlock's steady eye. She started to retch and he dropped his hand from her mouth is disgust. She almost wished she could throw something up but there was nothing left.

"But Sherlock fooled me. See he jumped, but he didn't die. He wasn't even injured." Jim sounded slightly in love with the idea. "He stepped off this ledge and walked away."

Ava was pulled back into position.

"So this time we'll change it. We'll see how good he is. Because it's one thing to save yourself when you jump but it's entirely different to save others who are jumping."

Ava made the mistake of looking at him in confusion.

"As soon as he gets here, you and I are going to try a magic trick." Jim leaned to look at the pavement that was so far away below. "Reckon we'll manage it?"

Ava looked down and then at Jim.

Then her legs tried to move, tried to get as far away from Jim as possible. But Jim caught her easily and the world tilted and swayed. He lifted her up and placed her on the roof edge easily. Terrified Ava curled her toes, as if that would keep her from wobbling; too scared to move now.

Below was pavement. Very grey, very solid looking pavement with a few people walking.

Her face was soaking wet now and she didn't dare turn to look at Jim as he held something to her ear. It made her heart thud frantically when he held the phone to her ear and she heard a faint ringing.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she couldn't see it, she wouldn't be so scared.

"Yes?" Sherlock snapped with barely restrained fury in every part of his voice.

Words caught in her throat. She wanted him here, now to make Jim stop and to come with Daddy and let her step back. But she wasn't stupid. Jim wanted Sherlock here and he would wait until Sherlock arrived.

Then he would do whatever he wanted.

But at the sound of his voice, even his angry voice she sobbed.

She wanted Sherlock.

"Shut-up," Sherlock suddenly snapped and Ava had a feeling he wasn't talking to her. There was a long pause and she could only hear the crackle of the phone line and the faintest echo of his breath.

"Ava?" he asked eventually sounding so desperate that she wanted to crawl into the phone.

Jim bent down to her other ear as he adjusted the position of the phone. "Tell him where you are," he suggested just as Sherlock dragged in a breath.

He'd heard the other voice.

"Ava, I need you to talk to me," he begged. "I need you to tell me if you're alright?"

She nodded her head, despite knowing that he couldn't see. She dragged in a sob and felt even more tears trickle down her face. "'m scared," she whispered.

Sherlock was breathing heavily, "Where are you?"

"I don't know," she whimpered not wanting to look at anything. If she pretended then it wasn't there and she had nothing to be scared of.

"Tell him," Jim said in the faintest whisper that she could almost pretend was just the wind, "I. O. U."

"Ava?" Sherlock was pleading, "I need you to tell me what you can see."

She shook her head and Jim placed a hand on her back, pushing ever so slightly.

Ava gasped in a strangled terrified breath and was forced to open her eyes to balance herself, screaming at the sight of the pavement below again.

"AVA!" Sherlock cried into the phone.

"IOU," Ava gasped out and was rewarded when Jim took his hand away, "He said IOU," she sobbed. "I want to go home," she begged Sherlock, as if just by telling him that he could make it happen.

He would. He was Sherlock, he could make anything happen.

"Sherlock?" Daddy's voice was dim in the background, "What is it?" he asked, sounding close to tears.

The phone was snatched from her ear before she could hear the response.

"Ten minutes Sherlock. Bring whoever you like. It's a party!" it was strange how she could even hear the cruel smile in Jim's voice. "See you soon honey,"

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That song was playing again. Blaring out as Jim sung along to it absently.

He hadn't let her step back, but he hadn't pushed her again either. Her legs were starting to hurt and her eyes were so heavy she just wanted to sit down and sleep.

He wouldn't let her.

She wanted Daddy.

She heard the sirens before Jim did. Seeing her start he leaned backwards from where he was sitting next to her and stared down at the police cars that were arriving.

And grinned.

"Almost there!" He sounded like he was about to get birthday cake. "Turn around,"

Ava hesitated, just wanting a glimpse to see that Sherlock and Daddy where there. But then Jim fixed her with that blank stare and she did as she was told.

It was even more scary with her back to it and facing him. His fingers flashed out and grabbed her chin, the pads digging into her skin as he started to text with his free hand.

"Stay very still," he warned as he put his phone into his pocket and pulled out a gun.

Ava felt her eyes widen and she couldn't drag her gaze from it. She'd seen Daddy's a few times but only as he was putting it into his inside coat pocket or as he bent over once or twice before he went out. She'd felt it once when she'd hugged Sherlock who had instantly stiffened and backed away, not returning until the gun was no longer hidden in his coat.

She had no idea where they kept it. She had a feeling she wasn't even meant to know about it.

It was very solid looking. It looked thick and heavy and dangerous. Jim held it with ease, as if uncaring that he had such a scary thing in his hands.

"See this is the safety," he said, showing her as if she was having a lesson at school. "While this is one I can't fire. The moment it's off…" he demonstrated to show how easy it was to flick his fingers and make the clicking noise. "I can do what I like."

He didn't put the safety back on. Instead he peered over her shoulder and smiled as the end of the gun got closer and closer to her cheek.

It was cold. Slowly Jim stroked a stray strand of hair clumsily away from her cheek with the gun and her silent tear caught the edge.

The door to the roof opened but she couldn't see who walked through because Jim was blocking her vision.

"It's just one big, never ending circle," Jim said thoughtfully. "Over and over and over again." He added, sounding more annoyed and turning.

Sherlock.

He stood looking utterly tense, as if a tap would send him rocketing off. His coat was caught by the wind and his hair blew with it. But the rest of him was still.

Apart from his eyes. They were darting between Jim and scanning Ava.

"You know I won't let you leave here alive," Sherlock said very calmly, stepping forward.

Jim didn't seem too bothered. "I had thought a similar thing about you last time we stood here." He shrugged, "Look how that turned out!"

Sherlock's grey eyes caught hers and the world blurred in an out of focus as tears flooded her eyes again. Ava wanted so desperately to run over to him, to hide in his arms and let him tell the bad man off but the gun stayed on her cheek and she was terrified that if she moved a muscle Jim would push.

"What's the game?" Sherlock was asking.

"No game," Jim smiled through his voice and Sherlock tensed even further if that was possible. "How fast can you move?" Jim taunted.

"You're lying," Sherlock said, taking a step forward.

Jim let him. "You think so?"

"This is your final move," Another step. "You're not going to waste it."

The gun slid down her cheek. "Do you think he'd forgive you? Your pet? Do you think he'd forgive you if he had to watch another loved one bleed on the pavement below?"

Something spasmed across Sherlock's face and Jim laughed.

"I don't know," Jim said and Ava could feel him shake his head. "I'm standing on the edge, she's standing on the edge and you're all the way over there." Jim cackled. "You've done this before Sherlock. Could you save us? If I leaned back just a bit-"

"Stop." Sherlock was almost within arm's reach. "You know I can't."

"Really? Because you've known that I'd had her for under six hours. You've had your big brother, your pet, your pathetic little police squad running around all day. Do you honestly expect me to believe that you haven't thought this through? That you didn't see this coming?"

"I miscalculated," Sherlock hissed. "I didn't think you were stupid enough to so much as glance in her direction after last time. Let alone…" he trailed off, his eyes lingering on Ava for a long moment.

"I was getting bored," Jim said sadly. "I knew all I needed to do was find your trigger …" Jim tightened his grip on Ava moving them back and to the side as Sherlock dared a step closer. "I thought it would be shooting Watson. But that nearly pulled you out of the game completely. Did you get scared Sherlock? Did the self-proclaimed sociopath feel fear?"

"Let her go and I will stand up there with you," Sherlock said as if they were discussing the weather.

Jim huffed and clamped a hand over Ava's mouth as he twisted them both so that Ava was almost dangling off the edge.

"Pay attention," Jim snapped as Ava felt the edge under her shoes and Jim's hand over her mouth stopped her from looking down. She couldn't see Sherlock anymore and she froze, utterly terrified and hoping that if she stayed really still then Jim wouldn't just let go.

"And get rid of it," Jim added as an afterthought.

When he swung her back Sherlock had backed up three steps and was holding his hands in the air, eyes burning with fury.

"Did you feel fear?" Jim repeated.

"Yes," Sherlock's mouth tightened.

"More or less than right now?"

Ava could see the surprise on Sherlock's face as he glanced behind Jim, as if he could see the people below.

"Similar," Sherlock answered eventually.

Jim huffed, "More or less Sherlock, it can't be similar."

"It is possible to…" Sherlock trailed off suddenly.

"To…?" Jim taunted, sitting down on the ledge and pulling Ava into his lap, leaning his head on hers with the gun back in it's previous position.

"Love." Sherlock said eventually, "More than one person."

Sighing Jim twisted them so he was side on to the ledge and Ava was facing Sherlock. "You really are so terribly disappointing." Jim said, looking down. "I had half suspected that all this," he waved the gun absently, "Was nothing more than you trying to get a half-descent shag out of your pet."

Sherlock's jaw clenched furiously at that but he said nothing, staying utterly still.

Jim seemed to shake himself and swung back standing again and placing Ava on the edge, before backing up, away from both Ava and Sherlock.

"Jim says stand next to her." Jim grinned.

"Or?" Sherlock had turned to look at Jim.

There was an almighty bang that made Ava jump and nearly lose her balance. With a cry she dropped down to the edge hands griping at the stones to keep herself upright as the world blurred again.

"Up," Jim snarled.

But she couldn't do it, she couldn't stand up again; the wind was so strong and she was going to fall, she knew she was.

But he had a gun and she still couldn't move.

A long, familiar hand grabbed hers.

She squeezed so tight she half expected to hear Sherlock hiss in pain. But he just tightened his own grip around hers and didn't say a word.

"She still needs to get up," Jim said sounding dreadfully bored.

"She's a child," Sherlock started to say.

"Don't be so DULL" Jim screamed the last word and it made her jump and tighten her grip on the edge of the roof. Below she saw the tops of people's heads turn at the word.

The grip on her hand shifted as, keeping his face towards Jim, Sherlock stepped back and up onto the ledge, his hand getting higher and higher until she had to stand to keep hold of it.

Everything in her wanted to turn and press into him but the wind was still blowing furiously and she didn't dare move a muscle.

Jim seemed to study them.

"I could make you choose," he said thoughtfully, "Dead up here or dead down there?"

"Obvious." Sherlock said though there was the smallest waver in his voice. Suddenly scared that he might be scared too, Ava tried to turn into him.

"Don't move," Jim aimed the gun very pointedly at her.

Sherlock stroked the back of her hand with his thumb as Jim stepped forward. Ava hated the fact that she couldn't see Sherlock anymore and just kept squeezing as fiercely as possible

"Turn around," Jim said softly.

Sherlock froze and his hand flinched in hers. Jim stared over Ava's head so she assumed they were staring at each other.

And then, slowly, Sherlock turned.

"Oh good old doctor Watson, staying put like a good little dog." Jim smiled as he stepped forward and, keeping the gun on Ava, he wrapped an arm around Sherlock. A second later he stepped back, Sherlock's phone in his hand.

"What would you like me to text him?" Jim asked nonchalantly. "Anything?"

Sherlock was breathing heavily above her.

"No goodbye? No note? No apology?" Jim was smiling like a lunatic a he scrolled through Sherlock's messages. "Funny isn't it, that you've deleted everything that was on here."

Ava shivered as a strong wind blew and Sherlock adjusted his grip to one that felt a lot more secure, if a little damp from the way they'd been holding hands.

"You have a plan-"

"What possible plan could I have?" Sherlock snapped suddenly. "This isn't the same as last time."

Jim smiled very slowly.

"I know," he said in a soothing voice that sounded very much like the one Daddy used at bedtime. He gestured with his gun that Ava should turn around.

Sniffing Ava struggled to turn without wobbling. Sherlock very quickly grabbed her other hand as she turned; helping her to keep upright.

She stared ahead at the open sky.

"I'll beg," Sherlock said suddenly. "If that's what you want. I'll jump, I'll allow you to walk away."

"I'm not walking away from this," Jim laughed. "You're being insulting," he sing-songed.

Daddy was down by the police cars. Lestrade beside him, as if he was keeping him in place.

Terrified, and hating the sight of how far away he was, she closed her eyes. And then snapped them open when she felt Jim take her spare hand. A glance up at Sherlock showed him staring down with bright eyes.

The gun was still in Jim's hand as Jim stepped up next to her, head tilted to the side, "Tiny ants. Insignificant," he said.

Ava shook.

"We'll go together," Sherlock said, "You and I."

"The last thing I want you to see is his face as you do it," Jim sounded as if he were far, far away. "I want you to see him lose everything."

Sherlock hand spasmed in hers and she glanced up at him as he hung his head and then stared at the sky.

"You start us off Sherlock," Jim offered nicely, "Whenever you're ready. Or shall we just wait for her to collapse of exhaustion?" He turned, "Your move."

Sherlock stared at him. "Whatever I do you're not going to let go." He said, his voice hoarse.

Jim shook his head with a grin.

"The chances are tiny," Sherlock said, his voice shaking, "So slim as to be negligible."

"Then let go," Jim taunted.

For a moment the grip on her hand loosened and Ava stared up at Sherlock in terror. A thousand and one things passed over his face before the grip firmed again and became rock solid.

Jim laughed, Thick peals of laughter that echoed through Ava's head and hurt with the violence of his sheer glee.

"Look how far you've gone." Jim breathed, "You're lost to me now,"

The gun in his hand waved slightly, as if Jim couldn't decide who to keep it on anymore, his hand still gripping hers like iron as next to her Sherlock took a very deep breath and squeezed he her hand very tightly as if it were a hug.

Then a shot rang out.

Everything in the world tipped and spun. For a second all Ava could see was the splash of red against the blue sky, grey buildings and the cement edge. Everything was spinning and jumbled together.

And his hand was still in hers.

Then he fell, taking her with him.

She could hear people screaming.

The ground just suddenly wasn't there. It was empty air and it felt like her stomach had nothing to keep it in place. There was the heart thudding terror as she just kept slipping.

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Then Sherlock's hand tightened and the jolt was enough to loosen Jim's grip. But the momentum pulled at Sherlock too and she was suddenly looking up at his terrified face as he leant on the edge in his stomach, his hand the only thing keeping her alive.

He reached with his other one to grab at her free hand.

But they'd been holding hands a long time and her palms were so sweaty. And she was panicking, trying to wriggle back up.

"Stop moving," Sherlock snapped in desperation, "You need to stay utterly still."

But she couldn't. There was nothing but air beneath her and a pavement beneath that.

She could feel herself slipping and could see from Sherlock's horrified eyes that he could feel it too.

"No," he whispered, eyes bright as the sky, "Please no,"

And then someone else caught her other hand. Someone with a suit and completely calm, cool hands that were able to get a proper grip and pull her up as Sherlock's damp gripped at her frantically.

Between them Mycroft and Sherlock hauled her back onto the roof.

Then Sherlock was gathering her to him, collapsing in a heap by the edge and actually sobbing as he held her tightly. Rocking her back and forth and burying his face in her hair, whispering words she couldn't begin to make out.

She hadn't fallen. She stared wide-eyed at a pale Mycroft who had sat beside them looking nothing like his usual self. His cheeks were red and his breath quick as if he'd ran.

And then he brushed a tentative hand over her cheek and pressed his forehead against hers as Sherlock grip tightened even more.

"Are you alright?" Mycroft asked breathlessly, looking at her and then over her head.

Ava just gripped Sherlock's coat even tighter, unable to even form words and cried, unaware of anything but the thickness of the fabric beneath her fingers and the safety coming from the thumping beat of a racing heart.

Chapter 13: Two Years Later

Summary:

It's "THE DAY!" and Ava is bursting with glee that they's almost managed to get a surprise past Sherlock...

23rd December

Today was The Day!

Ava had remembered what Dad had told her to do. She'd gotten up, washed her face and crept down the stairs as quietly as possible. He'd been waiting with a cup of tea in his hands and one on the table for her.

"Are you nervous?" Ava asked biting her lip and being very careful to whisper.

Dad's mouth quirked, "Should I be?" he asked with a grin.

Ava shook her head smiling back.

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They'd left before Sherlock had woken up. They'd picked up what they needed from Mycroft's house while Mycroft had asked Dad if he had rethought his insane idea.

Dad just shook his head with that same grin.

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Dressed for the occasion they both sat in the empty waiting room.

"Do you think this is why Sherlock always wears a suit?" Ava asked admiring her new shoes.

And privately wondering how long it would take to get Dad to buy her heels.

"What? In case someone randomly proposes to him in the day?" Dad asked sounding distracted.

Ava glared, "No, I meant because he can blend in to any occasion without looking out of place." She rolled her eyes, "Do you think he's guessed yet?"

Dad shook his head, "He's remarkably dense about this sort of thing."

Not as dense as Dad thought, Ava mused privately. Sherlock had given them a strange look yesterday as if realising they were plotting something. Though, given they had all been working this out for the past three months, it was incredibly slow of Sherlock to just be figuring things out.

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Mycroft took her into one of the side rooms when Sherlock eventually tracked them down.

"He will say yes, won't he?" Ava asked fiddling with a thread on her dress.

"I imagine so." Mycroft sounded positively uncomfortable with the whole thing. "He's become rather obsessed with labelling everything recently."

Ava glanced up at Mycroft.

"Huh?"

Mycroft just shook his head.

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"Did you say yes?" Ava demanded as she was finally allowed back out into the waiting room.

Sherlock just nodded looking a bit dazed.

Dad was smiling, his whole face delighted as he swung her up into his arms.

"Go on then," she said, handing her his phone.

Ava fired off the texts Dad had saved to his draft box last night.

"John?" Sherlock sounded confused, "Why…"

"Um…" Dad wouldn't stop smiling. "Have you not noticed where we are?"

Sherlock eyes travelled up, then to the side. Dawning realisation crept onto his face as he looked around at the registry office.

"Today?" he asked, seemingly stunned.

Dad nodded, "Well it makes sense," he defended squirming a little. "You know so we can…have it all over with by Christmas."

"Over with?" Sherlock repeated his tone dropping to a dangerous note.

"Well…do you really want Mrs Hudson making a fuss over this twice. And buying a hat. Or having Lestrade insist on some form of stag party, or Mycroft…doing whatever it is he does."

Sherlock nodded slowly, "Yet you've sent out texts."

"Well we need witnesses." Dad added brightly, "And it will save bickering if we just invite them all."

"How efficient of you."

Dad nodded "Well I do try."

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Even Dad looked stunned when Mycroft handed over two tiny boxes.

"Don't say a word," Mycroft added hurriedly, "There is no need to ever bring this up again."

So they didn't.

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That night, when Ava came down to bed, Sherlock was twisting the new ring around his finger thoughtfully.

Ava smiled at the sight and then glanced over at Dad who winked at her before leaving her to it and going into their room.

Sherlock seemed to rouse himself out of whatever he'd been thinking and stared over at her.

"You did well keeping that a secret."

Ava plonked herself down on the armchair opposite him. "You guessed yesterday," she announced. "I saw."

"It was one possibility." Sherlock admitted. "Not the only one though."

"That's ok. Dad said he'd rather have you guess at his present than at mine."

Sherlock's thumb kept stroking the metal band around his third finger absently, "I sincerely hope it's an improvement on last years present," he muttered.

Ava beamed, "You have no idea what it is," she crowed in delight.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed at the challenge.

Adopting her most innocent expression Ava sat primly and waited. Eventually Sherlock looked away.

"It's been an eventful day," he excused. "I'll work it out tomorrow." His eyes flickered towards the door.

He probably was eager to go and have S. E. X! Which was kinda gross to think of them doing that. They were old and her parents after all.

"Ok, but you'll have to get up early then. Otherwise you'll have it spoiled when the social worker arrives." Ava told him with faked sadness that she only just managed to pull off.

Sherlock went white.

"Social worker?" he rose looking panicked,"Why?"

Ok, so perhaps that hadn't been as funny as she'd meant it. It was strange to remember that sometimes Sherlock got weird about things too. She really should remember it though. If he and Dad could follow her on school trips to make sure she didn't have a sudden turn at heights or fancy rooms then she could probably try to remember that Sherlock had a thing about social workers, huge floor to ceiling windows and any form of the words IOU.

And that they both got ill at the staying alive song.

"John," Sherlock called, "Did you know about this social worker?"

The door was yanked open. "Ava," Dad started looking mad. "You were meant to just tell him, not play the Holmes' version of how to have a heart to heart."

Sherlock's eyes darted between them, "Why is a social worker coming here." He demanded still looking pale.

Dad huffed and stared at Ava.

"Because-"

"Is it because of this," Sherlock held his ring hand up, waving it at Dad. "I swear to god John if this has stirred it all back up again-"

Ava thrust the envelope up at him. "Just open it," she scowled at him.

Sherlock just glanced at it and then back at Dad. "If they try to take her away I will-"

"It's adoption papers." Ava cut over him, waving it in his direction.

Sherlock blinked in utter confusion.

"For you to sign." Ava clarified.

Sherlock still just stared and then slowly looked at Dad.

"I did tell you I wanted everyone to know how we felt about each other," Dad said sounding tired, "I was including Ava in that."

Sherlock stayed utterly still and then slowly, unbearably slowly, reached out his hand for the envelope.

In silence he pulled out the half completed papers and stared at them.

"Unless you liked the title of step-dad," Dad added.

"This-" Sherlock seemed to have lost the power of speech.

"Even if we do end up like one of those statistics," Dad sounded a tad bitter about that, "You'd still be a legal guardian. And if anything ever happens again you'd never have to go through it all again."

Sherlock was just staring at the papers.

"But it does mean that, one last time, you'll have to deal with social workers." Dad sounded apologetic.

"But she's nice," Ava butted in. "And Mycroft didn't yell at her once."

A spasmed smile crossed Sherlock's mouth at the reminder of his usually calm brother utterly losing his temper at the poor unfortunate woman that had first handled their case.

"I told you Sherlock." Dad said quietly. "Everything I have."

Sherlock's hand shook as he held the papers and slowly made his way to the desk.

"You don't have to sign them now-" Dad broke off as Sherlock picked up the pen and started scrawling his signature. "-or apparently you do."

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Lestrade phoned the next evening with a case while Sherlock and Dad had an argument about the mouldy cheese in the fridge which apparently Dad had wrongly assumed was an experiment.

"What?" Sherlock snapped down the phone as he barely took a breath in between yelling at Dad and answering the call.

"No." Sherlock said barely three seconds later, "I don't care how confused Anderson is; it's hardly a useful indicator of complexity."

Dad stood with his hands on his hips looking murderous and waited.

"Lestrade, I don't care; I am spending Christmas Eve with my husband and daughter. Kindly piss off." Sherlock violently pressed end call, tossed the phone on the table and rounded on Dad again. "And why on earth you think mouldy Red Leicester is an experiment is beyond me. It's substandard cheese to begin with."

Dad blinked, looked at the phone and then at the offending cheese. Then at Sherlock.

Then he whirled, opened the fridge and started to take out everything.

"John-"

"We are going through this bloody thing once and for all." Dad said, "And so help me if you complain."

Ava caught the brief smile that crossed Sherlock's lips and bit her lip.

Turning she glanced over at the fireplace.

There was her sports day medal and the skull that Dad had spent hours reconstructing after she smashed it. The knife jammed into the mantelpiece would forever hold the receipt of the first meal Sherlock had bought Dad when he'd gotten out of prison and the draft of Ava's speech that had won the contest at school a few months after she'd started talking again.

And that now also held the civil ceremony licence and her still pending adoption papers. Across from it was their christmas tree with the lone pink bauble, the angel she had made two years ago, the usual silver decorations and the wonky salt dough characters from last year.

"Ava! Why is there a half-eaten, half rotting Cadbury's cream egg in here?"

Ava glanced at the skull.

"An experiment?" she called hopefully

"Don't even try it."

Notes:

"He made the pillars thereof of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, the covering of it of purple, the midst thereof being paved with love, for the daughters of Jerusalem." Which, if you take certain interpretations means for the whole section from the Songs of Songs from the bible means "it is the pavement of love; a sinner may leap here, there is no hazard to fall, or if he fall, he falls soft, for it is upon love" quoted from James Durham's work.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of the Ava Watson verse series »