Greg's God-daughter

Greg's God-daughter pt.3

By the time Greg put her in his car she was lolling her head on anything she could find, if it wasn't Greg's chest as he carried her bridal style it was her seat as she curled up leaning against it. She had helped Greg pack for the week, putting in her favourite onsie's and dummies in a bag. "There we are princess," he whispered as he placed the bag next to her, he covered her in her blankie and gave her her bear and dummy. "Can't sleep without these babycakes," he closed the door and got in the front as she fell asleep.

"Wakey wakey," Greg said as he picked her up out of the car, supporting her under her knees and back. "We're here baby." She waited for her eyes to adjust before looking at the street around them. It looked very similar to Baker Street except there wasn't a Speedy's, just more houses. Greg carried her to the one in the middle of the street, "This isn't a flat like your Daddy's, it's a proper house, small but proper like." She smiled and leaned into him, he carried her through the front door. 

(Now, I usually hate people putting pictures in fanfics but I didn't have an image of what Greg's flat should look like so sorry, and because of this I'm only including essential rooms, and above all ignore the picture in Greg's room)

living room

kitchen

office

Greg's bedroom

spare room

bathroom

(again sorry)

"We only picked up a couple of your toys toady so if you want anymore pick them up when we go to Baker Street," Greg placed her on the kitchen counter, "I'm thinking, if you want, you help me with some cases. Then later bath then film, sound good." She nodded, she liked helping with the cases, going into the lab and testing things. Da often reprimanded Daddy for getting her to help, saying she's too young but it made her feel needed. He kissed her head, "Let's put your bag upstairs and then we'll start with the case your Daddy was working on, yeah?" 

The case Sherlock had been working on was, as John called it, The Red Circle. A woman called Mrs Warren came round to Sherlock saying her tenant had disappeared. No one knew a thing about him, he had a beard and an accent that no one could pin. The night before the disappearance he offered double his pay in rent for him to use the place how he pleased. Then the next morning he was gone.

Sherlock said he was close to solving it but then he got ill. So, Greg was left to finish what he started, but not without  a little help from his favourite little detective. He picked her up and took her into the lounge and placed her on the floor,  he walked into the office and took the file on the case. He walked back into the lounge and placed the file on the floor in front of her. She took out all of the papers and spread them out on the floor. He sat down next to her and looked at the evidence in front of them, she started to run her hands along the papers and underlining certain words with her fingers. He could see her fitting parts of the story together in her head like putting pages of a book in order. It was like a magic trick, she had the mind of a toddler right now and yet she was quicker at solving cases then Lestrade's team. 

He pulled her close by wrapping his arm around her waist, she looked up at him in confusion. He smiled down at her and brushed her hair out of her face with his other hand, "Your so smart baby, you know that?" She blushed and looked around the room avoiding his eyes. "So smart," he said guiding her head so she was looking at him again. He kissed her forehead.