Sherlock Holmes- A Study in Blood

Chapter 8

"When the first baby laughed for the first time, the laugh broke into a thousand pieces and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies." ~J. M. Barrie

"I can't believe I'm leaving her."

"Don't be absurd, Watson," Holmes scoffed.  "You will only be gone for a couple of hours.  I doubt she will even notice your absence."

Watson held Mary in one arm and his medical bag in the other.  He had been called to Elm Street by Mrs. Collins whose son had been bed ridden with a high fever for three days.  As much as he did not want to leave his daughter's side, he needed to start working again.  After practically neglecting his profession entirely shortly following his wife's death, it was amazing that he had any patients left at all.  He desperately needed to rebuild his credibility.  "You're right," he conceded at last.

"You sound surprised."

With an eye roll for his best friend, Watson kissed Mary's head.  "Be a good girl for Uncle Holmes," he smiled at her as she stared up at him with her bright blue eyes, then, he turned to the detective.  "Be a good boy for Mrs. Hudson."

"How dare you even suggest such a thing," Holmes said with a disgusted look on his face. "Honestly, Watson, sometimes it's as though you don't know me at all.  Now hand me my angelic niece and be on your way.  Can't have you being late, now can we?"

"Unfortunately, no," the young father and doctor sighed, kissing his daughter once more before handing her over to Holmes.  "Now, what did we discuss?"

"No experiments, no adventures, no open flames, no black powder, no chemicals," Holmes rambled with an exasperated look on his face.  "Have I forgotten anything, Mother Hen?"

"I want to return to my daughter in the same state that I left her in.  I'm trusting you, Holmes."

"You seem to forget who cared for her for the first few months of her life, which, I might add, are of are vital importance to a child's development."

"I have not forgotten.  Not that you'll let me," Watson said, then gave him a true smile.  "I am grateful, Holmes."

"Of course you are, old boy," Holmes nodded, pushing him out the door.  "Now go before that lad finds himself well without any help from you whatsoever."  Once he had closed the door behind Watson, he turned to his niece.  "Now my dear, what shall we do today, hmm?"

He lay her down on her back on his tiger rug.  "Stay there, I will be right back."  He went to his desk and pulled out a string of wooden beads he had acquired from a merchant who had brought them from Kenya.  Holmes smiled as he held up the trinket.  A perfectly suitable and safe toy for Mary to amuse herself with.  Hiding it behind his back, he turned to face his niece but was met with a surprise of his own.  Mary was no longer on her back, but had rolled over onto her stomach all on her own.  "How did... did you just..."

Mary squealed in delight and kicked her legs frantically.  Holmes laughed as he lay down on the floor beside her.  "It's nice to see some of my genius has rubbed off on you, my dear."

Mary babbled and stretched her arms out in front of her.

"Yes, you father is a very smart man.  I suppose he may have had something to do with that," he admitted before he rolled her onto her back and presented her with the gift.  Mary's eyes grew wide as she reached eagerly for the brightly painted beads. 

The pair was amused with this for no more than thirteen minutes, by Holmes' calculation.  "Well," he sighed, propping himself up on his elbow and resting his chin on his hand, "what would you like to do now, Miss Watson?" 

Mary reached toward him and made a few indistinguishable noises. Holmes picked her up in his arms.  She bounced a bit on her own accord, seeming to be urging her uncle to do the same. 

"Dance with you?" Holmes grinned.  "Why, Miss Watson, I thought you would never ask."

Starting up the phonograph, he began to spin and sway with the music while holding Mary in his arms, until he heard something that made him stop in his tracks.  A giggle.  He looked down at Mary, whose adorable face was lit up with a beautiful smile.  Her first smile, and her first laugh, had been bestowed upon her dear uncle.  "You know, the first time a baby laughs, it is said that the laugh breaks into a thousand pieces that scatter about and become fairies," Holmes explained with a smile.  She giggled again.  "I'm afraid I'm being entirely serious, my dear.  Do you find me amusing?"

"Mr. Holmes, you never cease to entertain," Mrs. Hudson said, bringing up tea and biscuits as well as the morning's paper.

Holmes raised an eyebrow, leaning down to whisper in his niece's ear.  "Beware Mary.  Though she may look like a kind and gentle land lady, I have reason to believe she is secretly a spy."

"Who needs to spy?" she said dryly.  "The way you go bashing about London, everyone knows your business, whether they wish to or not.  Now, hand me that baby.  It's time for her bottle."

Holmes relinquished his companion to Mrs. Hudson who took the child downstairs, giving him a moment to take his tea and read through the paper.  But, instead, he went to the door and watched Mrs. Hudson make her way down the stairs, Mary's head resting on the woman's shoulder.  Putting his thumbs in his ears and sticking out his tongue, he made a face at her.  Mary squealed and laughed in delight before Mrs. Hudson turned a corner and the two disappeared from his sight.  Holmes smiled.  "You will have many fairies watching out for you, Mary.  And even if they all fly away one day when you grow too old for such things, I will still be there.  That is my promise to you."