sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXV

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Prompting Part XXXV

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Sherlock is a bit too honest about his feelings for in front of John's daughter, thinking that she isn't listening/is asleep/doesn't understand. She goes to John and is like "Daddy do you know Uncle Sherlock is very sad because the brave knight he's in love with doesn't want him? Can we do something to help him?" John puts two and two together.

Ohhhhh. I really want to read this.

Seconding.

Most adorable prompt ever!

This is adorable and I want it and *flails*.

(Mycroft, that is inappropriate for this prompt! How dare you?!)

This is adorable and I really really want to see this. <3

Thirding!

So much cuteness.

+1.

The child's breathing was heavy and slow. Sherlock stroked its hair, surprised at how soft it was. He supposed it was high time he stopped referring to the child as 'it'... Or even 'the child', seeing as it - SHE - was now three years old.

'Arianna Watson,' Sherlock murmured for the first time ever, 'Do you ever look like you're father.'
*****
The child was four. And Sherlock was babysitting. And what's more: he wasn't doing a half-bad job.

'Now hand me those forceps,' he instructed the toddler, and was extremely pleased when she picked up exactly the right instrument. 'You clever girl. Just like your Daddy.'
*****
The child was five, and Sherlock was absolutely astounded at how very tightly she had him wrapped around her finger. What had started as John and Mary frantically searching for a babysitter and reluctantly asking Sherlock to fill in, had turned into a weekly thing. Every Tuesday and Thursday without fail, Sherlock showed up at Arianna's school and took her back to Baker Street until seven when her parents got off work. She was delighted by his experiments, and before she entered Year One, she was able to recite most of the periodic table. It was surprising, but quite nice. Sherlock found he was actually looking forward to the day she could accompany him to a crime scene, but John assured him it would be a very, very long time before that happened.

Today, Sherlock had been emotionally manipulated into taking the child to the park for the first time. He now understood why he'd been avoiding it for so long -- all those running, screaming, dirty children scattered all over the place. He could tell at a single glance that they were all far inferior to his Arianna.

From afar, he watched as another girl approached her, and observed them curiously. A few words were exchanged before the other girl skipped off, leaving Arianna in the sand pit looking crestfallen. Sherlock hurried over.

'What happened?' he demanded, instantly regretting his tone when he saw the child's eyes were filled with tears.

'Becky said that my shoes are ugly,' the girl replied, a pout and a waver in her voice that terrified the detective. Blood and guts he could handle; tears he could not. Arianna wiped her runny nose with the back of her hand, and continued, 'And she said my hair was ugly. I told her it wasn't my fault because you don't know how to braid or do bunches, but she just laughed at me and said all of me is ugly.'

Sherlock looked down at the girl, with her honey-coloured hair and dark blue eyes. He held out a hand, and grasped the girl's tightly when she put her hand in his, snot and sand be damned. He crouched down until they were eye level.

'You are very pretty,' he told her seriously, 'In fact, I think you might be one of the prettiest little girls I've ever met. Granted, I don't meet too many children in my line of work, but that's irrelevant. You will most definitely grow up to be very attractive and have lots and lots of boyfriends for your parents and I to run off.'

She giggled, and the crisis was averted.
*****
The child was five and a half, and had managed to convince three of the most formidable adults in London to take a walk out in the rain and splash in puddles on the sidewalk. She especially seemed to enjoy jumping into puddles near Sherlock because he would yelp like a wounded puppy and jump backwards to protect his precious coat.

John and Mary, on the other hand, seemed to be having more fun than Arianna herself. They scoped out the best puddles like a hunter would stalk its prey, laughing all the while. Arianna and Sherlock watched as John splashed Mary, and she kicked water back at him in return. He smiled and she smiled, and he put his arms around her. The girl looked up at Sherlock, her nose scrunched in disgust as her father planted a kiss on her mother's cheek. Sherlock was not smiling, a faraway look on his face.

'What's wrong, Uncle Sherlock?' she asked. He finally looked down at her, staring deep into her eyes. (John's eyes.) He sighed.

'Sometimes your father makes my heart hurt,' he replied before he could stop himself.

Arianna nodded seriously, and slipped her hand into his. They finished their walk in silence as John and Mary continued to laugh and play behind them.

TBC

Edited 2014-06-12 00:47 (UTC)

OP is delighted! Thank you!

I'm glad! Thanks for such a sad prompt, lol! That seems to be my 'thing' these days!

Sometimes this fic makes my heart hurt.

Can't wait to read more!

Aw, thank you! I seem to be writing quite a few sad fics these days!

I think I'm in love with Arianna and this story already!

Thanks! She's Sherlock's little buddy ;)

Oh my giddy gosh... LOVE!

Thank you!

The child was six and had altogether too much homework for a Year Two student. Her idiotic teacher had assigned the class to write a short story, and Arianna was in a state of hopelessness because she couldn't decide what to write about.

'Un-cle Sher-lock!' she whined pathetically from John's chair where she was slumped dramatically with her arm over her face. Sherlock glanced over from the kitchen table where he was conducting another experiment with Bunsen burners and acidic chemicals. John and Mary had been very firm about Arianna not being allowed to handle corrosive liquids until she was at least in double digits, so she was banished to the living room. 'Help me! Daddy said you promised to always, always help me and him and Mommy!'

'When I made that vow, I was referring to mad psychopaths, not creative writing assignments', Sherlock called back halfheartedly, knowing he was virtually incapable of refusing her anything. He sighed, turned off his Bunsen burner, removed his gloves, goggles, and apron, and went to join her in the living room. 'Alright, what do you need help with?'

'I need to write a story, with a pro-tag-a-ness and an an-tag-a-ness', she said carefully, looked up at him seriously, 'That means a good guy and a bad guy. But I can't think of any good guys and bad guys right now! I can't think of anything right now! I just can't think!'

Sherlock laughed at how very much his niece sounded like him at that moment, and then got a bit sad for the same reason. 'Well, let's start with good guys. I can think of one good guy you know who would be a very good character for your story.'

Arianna thought hard for a moment, 'Uncle Mycroft?' she asked dubiously, 'I think he'd be more like a bad guy because bad guys ride black horses, and he rides in a black car.' She looked up at him in horror, 'But don't tell him I said that! He might make me disappear in the middle of the night.'

'He wha- Never mind,' Sherlock said, making a mental note to address that later, 'No, not Mycroft, unless you want your protagonist to be simpleminded, interfering and fat. Tell me what you think a 'good guy' or a hero in a story should be like.'

Arianna thought hard, 'Well, he should be brave, because he will have to stand up to the bad guys. And he should probably be smart, so he can know what to do when he gets into trouble. Oh, and he should be handsome, because the heroes in the fairy stories Mummy reads me are always handsome and have a white horse.'

'I know someone who is all of those things, and many more... Aside from the horse,' Sherlock informed the girl, and made a face, 'You wouldn't want a horse in London these days anyway. The upkeep would be astronomical.'

Arianna nodded seriously as if she understood what astronomical and upkeep meant (there was a very good chance she did, actually; Sherlock had given her an Oxford English Dictionary for Christmas, and when they were especially bored, they would pull it out, flip to a random page, and Sherlock would impress the child with all the long words he knew.)

'Is it you?' she asked after a long while, and couldn't seem to come up with any more possibilities. Sherlock was reminded of the night of John's stag-do when he had guessed that the name on his forehead was John's. This was like a funny reverse.

'Oh, no', he chuckled, 'I'm certainly no hero. I'm referring to someone who is also kind, loyal, strong, a bit silly, has an unfortunate liking for ugly jumpers...'

Arianna's eyes lit up with amusement and understanding. 'I know! You mean Daddy! He's very brave and smart and handsome and all those things you said!'

Sherlock nodded, and replied, 'Yes, he certainly is.'

TBC

So this part took me a minute because I couldn't find a British equivalent of 'good guys' and 'bad guys'. I have someone who's helped me with Brit picking pretty often but he's been... Absent from the Internet lately, and I didn't want to bother him with something this silly as the word 'guys', especially since I just asked him about 'stone' kind of out of nowhere.

If someone would like to give me a British equivalent of those phrases for when I post to AO3, that would be great. I tried looking it up, and all I could find was information on Guy Fawkes!

xx lilylashes

goodies and baddies -- but we'd certainly understand 'good guys' and 'bad guys'

Re: a/n: apologies!

lilylashes.livejournal.com - 2014-07-29 06:01 (UTC) - Expand

Oh oh my heart. I love your Sherlock. Love him.

Thank you!

I love this! It's perfect and exactly what I wanted. Can't wait for more!

- the lucky OP

Hi author,
are you planning to continue this lovely fill? I hope you're okay!

- the OP

Hello OP!

I cranked out an update just for you... Hope you enjoy :)

I have been okay, just been hard to find time to write... I have a 7 month old baby who keeps me busy!

Will try to update again in the near future... It looks like things should wrap up in about two more parts.

xx lilylashes

The child was almost eight, and far too young to be interested in boys. Nonetheless, she was currently involved in a heated argument with her parents that seemed to be going nowhere fast. Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose and sat back in his chair, knowing that the Watson stubbornness -- on both sides -- would mean for a long night.

'Do I need to remind you, Ari, that I was a soldier? The Army has special courses for fathers to take for when their daughters begin dating. Don't make me make this boy disappear,' John threatened. Sherlock snorted, knowing Arianna would not be impressed.

He was correct. The child simply rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, a move Sherlock had seen John do countless times.

'Knock it off, Daddy,' she told him sternly, 'I know you were a doctor soldier, not a real soldier.'

John seemed thoroughly put off by this perception of his military service. 'I had bad days', he muttered, and Sherlock smirked.

'I think what your father is trying to say, dear, is that now is really not the time for you to have a boyfriend,' Mary interjected quickly, 'It's just not appropriate. You can be friends with this boy, but you're far too young to date him.'

'But Mommy!' Arianna whined, whirling dramatically to face her mother, 'He says he loves me! And I love him too! And if you don't let him be my boyfriend, our hearts are going to hurt forever, even if we fall in love with someone else and get married and have a baby.'

All three adults stared at the child. John and Mary both had looks of dumbfounded confusion on their faces. Sherlock's face, on the other hand, had drained of all colour.

'What do you mean, 'your heart will hurt forever'?' John asked finally, his brows knit together in concentration.

'When someone loves someone else and can't be together with that person -- like a proper boyfriend -- it makes their heart hurt. And even if they someday find another boyfriend or girlfriend, and do all the love things, their heart will still hurt, and deep down, they will be sad forever, only it will be a secret, and no one can fix it because it's too late', Arianna explained, her hands waving madly. By the time she finished, she seemed genuinely upset, and Sherlock could see the faintest hint of tears in the corners of her eyes.

'Why would you think that, Ari?' John asked gently, 'Plenty of people have different boyfriends and girlfriends. That doesn't mean that they're always sad, it just means that things didn't work out.'

Arianna shook her head, 'Not just regular boyfriends, Daddy, real, true love boyfriends, like in the fairy tales, the ones where people die from a broken heart. Like you and Uncle Sherlock.'

TBC

Edited 2014-07-29 05:54 (UTC)

Re: Fill 3/?

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Re: Fill 3/?

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Re: Fill 3/?

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Re: Fill 3/?

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Re: Fill 3/?

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