The Game is On

Adjusting

As the new family approached the door of 221B, the girls struggled to keep from dropping their suitcases.

"Ready?" Sherlock paused before opening the door.

"Yes," the girls jumped up and down in excitement.

Sherlock swung open the door to the stairwell, "Go on in."

"Wow," Amanda said as they rushed upstairs and looked around.

"It's the British flag pillow!" Amanda remarked.

"And the skull! And even the bullet holes!"

Gina skipped into the kitchen, her face falling to confusion, "Where's all the expirements?"

"We moved them downstairs."

"Downstairs?"

"Yeah. We rented out 221C for more space."

"Can we see?"

"Well, of course, but it still needs a lot of fixing up."

Gina, followed by Amanda, rushed down to 221C. Inside, they looked around at a few empty rooms, but brushed by quickly until they reached the kitchen.

There, on the table, were loads of test bottles and samples, oddly-coloured viles of water and funny-looking things on glass slides. Utensiles littered one corner, like tubes and small knives.

"I dare you to look in the fridge, Gina," Amanda looked devillishly at her new adopted sister.

"Oh, you're on."

Gina walzed over to the fridge without hesitation, swinging the door open and looking directly at, without replusion, a severed head.

"Much better reaction than yours, John. She'll do well in this house."

"Cool," Amanda slowly walked over to get a better look, "Whose head?"

"Just someone from a morgue. I was just running tests."

A jar of eyeballs sat on the self below the head.

"Wow, one of each colour!" Gina observed.

"Yes, well," John tried to change the subject, "Shall we go check out your new room?"

"Yes!" Amanda spun around first, following Sherlock and John upstairs.

"This used to be Sherlock's room. But now it's yours'."

The two gazed around and the brand-new furniture. On the left side of the room, with a bed that had Gina painted on it in nice lettering, was a bedside table topped with an alarm clock and a skull.

On the right side, where Amanda was painted on the bed, the bedside table had an identical alarm clock and a helmet from the army.

"Whoa," Gina observed the skull, "Where's this from?"

"The same place I got mine," Sherlock informed.

"And is this from the actual army?"

"Yep," John smiled lightly.

"Oh...No, Sherlock, we forgot something..."

"What?"

"Dinner."

"Can't we just go out for dinner?"

"Oh, I suppose we have to. Let me just run to the bank and grab some cash. Don't burn the house down before I get back."

"No promises."

John slipped on his usual jacket and hurried out the door. The bank was quite a few blocks away, and he wanted to get home as fast as possible.

He didn't exactly trust Sherlock alone with two girls just yet.

Once he got out of the bank, it was beginning to rain, so John caught a cab. Once he pushed through the door to 221B, he heard exactly what he hoped not to hear.

Banging.

John ran upstairs as fast as he could, cursing under his breath.

"Christ, Sherlock."

John, out of breath, crashed through the door to the main room.

The three stopped and looked at him like he was out of his mind.

Gina stood next to the window, Sherlock reaching to grab the violin that had fallen to her feet. Amanda sat on the couch, hugging the British flag pillow and looking at various books.

"What...The..." John tried.

Sherlock left the violin on the ground and looked at his partner with concern, "John, are you okay?"

"I heard...A bang..."

"She dropped the violin. I'm trying to teach her to play."

Amanda looked at John mockingly, "What'd you think he was doing, daddy John?"

"Uh, heh," John still wasn't used to being called that, "I thought he was shooting the wall again."

"Ooh," Gina looked at Sherlock, now holding the violin and bow, "Can you teach us to shoot?"

"Maybe when you're a bit older."

"Hey," Amanda finally spoke. She was holding Sherlock's phone, reading through text conversations, "Who's 'JM'?"

The room stilled.

Gina and Amanda looked equally curious, and John and Sherlock looked at each other, searching for words.

"Jim..."

"Moriarty." Sherlock finished.

"Hey, I think I heard about him. Didn't he jump off a roof or something?"

"Uh, no..."

"Who is he then?"

"He's uh...An old friend, to say," Sherlock muttered.

"Neat. Can we meet him someday?"

"Uh, I sure hope not."

"Why?"

"He's...Kinda dangerous."

"What are you doing looking through my phone, anyway?" Sherlock challenged.

Amanda giggled, "It was on the table."

Sherlock leaped on the couch beside her, "You little rascal!"

Amanda couldn't control her laughter as Sherlock tickled her under the chin.

What saved Amanda from being killed by tickles was Gina playing a soft, but beautiful, note on the violin.

"That was amazing," Sherlock stood up slowly, turning to his other daughter, "Where'd you learn that?"

"We did a little bit of the violin in music class, until we switched to the flute."

"Well, we should get you in an orchestra. You've got music in your bones!"

Gina blushed, placing the bow at her side.

"Play something else," Sherlock nudged her, striding over.

"O-Okay..." she positioned the bow to the strings and started to play a short and simple melody. Halfway through, she accidentally played a flat, and Amanda covered her ears to block out the excruciating noise.

"Oh, I messed up again," Gina's face fell.

"Hey, that's okay," Sherlock walked up behind her and helped her put the bow back on the strings again, "Try one more time."

This time, Sherlock gently guided her hand to drag the bow down the row of strings. Amanda quietly listened to her sister's melody, and John couldn't help but smile.

Sherlock may be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he's sure as bloody hell an amazing father.

After she finished, Gina smiled. "Wow, I didn't know I could do that!"

"You can do anything you put your mind to," Sherlock stepped away, "Now what do you say we go eat?"