Little Consulting Detective

Part 23

Molly opened her eyes a few hours later. Her brain felt fuzzy, and she didn't know how long she'd been sleeping. She sat up and rubbed her eyes and sat up, swaying gently. The door opened and lestrade walked in.

"Okay sweetheart, let's go get you something to eat." He said. "Do you wanna try walking?" He asked. Molly shook her head and held out her arms to be picked up. Lestrade scooped her up and held her on his hip, carrying her downstairs. He sat her down at the kitchen table and ruffled her hair. "Sit there while I get dinner ready." He said, handing her a few sheets of paper and some markers to color with.

Molly picked up a blue marker and began scribbling, unsure of what to draw. She ended up with a loopy line, overlapping chaotically on itself.

Turning to a different paper, she drew a small stick figure, holding hands with a taller one. She didn't intend for it to be anyone specific, but she guessed she may be the little one, meaning lestrade was the bigger one.

"What is that, baby girl?" Lestrade asked, standing at Molly's side. She held up the picture for lestrade to see and smiled.

"It's us, daddy." She replied. Lestrade smiled widely and hugged molly.

"It's very pretty. Can I hang it on the fridge?" Lestrade said, and molly nodded eagerly. The detective hung it up on the fridge and walked over to the stove, pouring some pasta into a bowl. He carried it back over to molly and sat in in front of her, handing her a fork.

She took it and smiled softly, glad she was allowed to feed herself. She ate the pasta without complaint and watched as lestrade tidied up the kitchen, whistling. He grabbed some food for himself and sat next to molly, eating his own dinner.

"Can I ask you something, sweetie?" He said, looking at molly. She paused, but nodded. "Do you have an older and younger headspace?" He added. Molly shrugged.

"Don't know. I was a baby in moriarty's eyes, but I wasn't able to do anything. I don't like being sat in a playpen all day, but I like coloring and onesies." Molly said. It felt good to clear that up. She didn't know if moriarty would have allowed her to crawl, but she suspects lestrade would be cool with it.

"I think we'll see what happens naturally. Now, with the nappy issue..." lestrade says delicately. He doesn't want to upset molly, but he knows she doesn't have control of when she uses her nappies.

"I know. I don't mind wearing them. Yeah, it's a little silly, but I don't think I can hold it anymore even if I tried." Molly says. Lestrade pulls her close and hugs her protectively,  rubbing her back.

"It's okay, baby girl, I  can take care of you however you need." He coos, holding her against his chest. Molly smiles and rests her head on his shoulder, blinking a few times. "Right now, let's get you a bottle." He added, picking molly up. He prepared a bottle and carried her to the living room, cradling her in one arm.

Molly latched onto the bottle easily and drank the milk. After the bottle was empty, lestrade burped molly and sat her on his lap. He picked up a book and held it out at arms lengths, molly leaning into his chest.

As the detective read, Molly's eyes grew heavier and heavier. Lea trade popped a dummy in Molly's mouth and she sucked on it quietly, closing her eyes. Lestrade closed the book and kissed the top of Molly's head. He set the book on the table and stood up, carrying her upstairs.

He laid her down in the guest bed and tucked her in, noting how peaceful she was. He smiled and left the room, turning off the light and shutting the door.

}*#€?,!{£}*??|£

Moriarty sat in the rocking chair with Sherlock tucked securely in his arms, sleeping soundly. Irene had been gone all day, and still had not returned. Jim was getting worried, but more so, hurt that his baby girl would leave. He could have allowed her to be a toddler, but now, he thought, she was merely a small infant who needed an eye on her every second of the day.

When they found her, they would make sure she had every bit of freedom taken away. Babies were to stay at home where they belonged.

The soft rain patting the windows gently helped to calm moriarty's nerves, and he smiled down at Sherlock. At least he had one baby to care for for now.

Sherlock started fussing. He scrunched up his nose and whined behind his dummy. Moriarty held him close, hoping to soothe him.

The little detective fell quiet, only to get worked up again a minute later. Moriarty placed a hand on sherlocks bum and patted it lightly. It was dirty.

"Alright lockie, let's get your nappy changed." He cooed softly, standing. He carried Sherlock to the changing table and laid him down, removing his onesie.

Sherlock gurgled from behind his dummy, upset. The criminal shushed him softly and cleaned him up, sprinkling him with talc and taping a fresh nappy onto sherlock's waist.

"There we go, bubba, all better." Moriarty cooed.

Sherlock cracked his eyes open and looked up at moriarty. There was something in his eyes that gave him chills.

Moriarty noted the strange way Sherlock looked at him, almost as if he was suddenly aware of everything going on around him. The criminal reached into a cabinet attached to the changing table and pulled out a small bottle of sedative/muscle relaxant and a syringe. He carefully measured out the medicine and brought the filled syringe to hover over sherlock's arm.

The detective struggled on the table, revealing that he was out of his headspace. He shouted behind the dummy, spitting it out.

Moriarty grabbed sherlock's arm and held it tightly, bringing the needle down to poke sherlock's vein, injecting him with the medicine.

"Unhand me!" Sherlock croaked, thrashing halting. He felt very weak, and turned pale as a ghost as he felt his limbs grow heavy. Moriarty smiled at him sympathetically.

"Looks like someone has regained his senses. Sorry Sherlock, but just to make sure you cooperate for me, daddy had to take away your ability to move. That should last for quite some time, but babies don't need to move around, do they?" Moriarty cooed. He scooped Sherlock up and laid him down in his crib.

Sherlock wept quietly, and moriarty popped a clean dummy into his mouth.

"There there, baby boy. You just get a good nights sleep, and daddy will see you in the morning." Moriarty soothed. He turned on the mobile and left, leaving Sherlock to his muddled thoughts.