Ok, y'all...here's the redo. Decided to have some fun with this one! Will still be angsty, REALLY angsty...and a big case on the way. But wanted to inject more humor into this one. Hope you enjoy!
Sherlock had barricaded himself in his "office" at 221 B for the last three days. He didn't accept phone calls. Didn't answer the pounding on the door.
For those three days, he didn't sleep. He didn't eat. He shot up the walls, paced, and played his violin. And he would talk to people who weren't there. Mostly John and Molly. It was a good thing they were imaginary. Neither would have taken his remarks well in person.
He was trying to deduce the most difficult case of his life, thus far. One he was incapable of deducing. Basic science was all the useful information he had on the case, and it was proving faulty.
He had no idea what to do. He smirked cruelly as he pictured John at his lap top starting a blog on this.
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Petulant Teenager.
It had been three months since Laura's thirteenth birthday. Sherlock's knowledge informed him she would be going through many changes now. What he WASN'T prepared for, was his sweet darling little girl to become the spawn of Satan in lip gloss.
She had yelled at him. ACTUALLY yelled at him! Her own father! He was trying to dig into his mind palace for work and the music, if one could call it that, emanating from Laura's room was distracting. He was MERELY going in there to ask her to turn down the volume so he could think.
"This is MY room! Aren't I entitled to SOME privacy in MY OWN ROOM? First Addie won't stay out of my things, pretty sure Nicky will be next. But they are kids. You aren't. SO GET OUT!"
Laura shoved at his chest, effectively pushing him through the doorway and slammed the door shut in his face.
He stood, dumbfounded, staring at the door.
What the hell?
Sherlock stumbled out to the living room where Molly sat reading a book to the youngest Holmes, Nicholas, who was just turning three years old. The little boy looked up with his keen blue eyes at his father. Already deducing.
"Don't you start on me too, little man. " Sherlock said in a firm but soft tone.
"Sherlock, she's a teenager now. Things will get worse before they get better. Get used to this.
"She yelled at me. "
"I know. And that will have to be dealt with. But darling... "
Molly got cut off suddenly as her name was called out from Laura's room.
Molly got up and handed Nicky to Sherlock, walked down the hall and into Laura's room.
They were in there for quite some time.
Finally, Molly emerged not looking Sherlock in the face.
"I have to go out for a few. Will be back soon. Watch Nicky and Addie for me, will you? "
"Where are you going? " Sherlock whined.
"I have to get something. "
"What? I could use some air. I will run your errand for you. "
"You...don't want to do that. Not your area, you see... "
"I am a parent, Molly. " Sherlock sighed " I am capable of doing a great many things. Now, what am I getting? " Sherlock brooked no argument as he handed Nicky, who had been darting his gaze between his parents like he was watching a tennis match, back into his mothers arms.
Molly tilted her her head and looked up at her husband, a smile dancing on her lips.
"Sanitary napkins. "
"Why do napkins have to be... oooooh. But you just bought some last week. "
"For me, yes. We need smaller ones now. "
"Why? It only makes sense if the size you use seems to work, a smaller one will doubtless ... "
"Not for me...Sherlock. "
She waited patiently for him to put the pieces together.
"No. She's too young. You must be mistaken. "
"I'm not. Trust me. This is one area I am INFINITELY more knowledgeable than you are. " Molly stopped, rather enjoying herself, as she jots a few lines down on a piece of paper, then hands it to her husband, who is still sputtering.
"Now, I've written down the brand and size you will need to select. If they don't have that brand, at least get that size. She will also need medicine for bloating and cramping...hopefully something that will even out that temper a bit. "
Sherlock's eyes widened and he thinned his lips, suddenly reaching for Nicky.
"Surely you can't still be holding me to my offer. Not on...on...THIS. "
"I can and I am. You ARE a parent. And a husband, come to think. Many husbands have to do such things. "
"I have never asked YOU to run such a humiliating errand. "
"No. But I swear you have something up that lovely bum of yours often enough I swear I will need to be bringing home hemorrhoid cream at any time. No, I just haul home BODY PARTS for you... "
Molly ducks way at Sherlock's third attempt to grab his shield/son away from his mum.
"But Molly... "
"Your daughter is waiting, Sherlock. Off you go now... "
She stifles a giggle as she walks off, and waits in the hall to hear the front door slam behind him.
Sherlock sits in the car, engine running and fingers tapping on his mobile.
I need your help.- Sh
A few moments later he gets a reply
Case? - JW
Somewhat. - SH
Can you be a little more vague- JW
Just... I will be there in 20 minutes. Be ready. Won't be long gone. - SH
Alright alright. Only YOU can sound testy in just a text. - JW
You don't KNOW testy, my friend. Spend some time with Laura and you will become well aquainted. - SH
What? - JW
Don't ask stupid questions, John. Just be ready. - SH
Without waiting for a reply, Sherlock tossed the mobile on the passenger seat and pealed out of his driveway.
Half an hour later found the great consulting detective and his blogger standing in the middle of the feminine products aisle looking completely lost.
"Why do they need so...many? " Sherlock asked, scanning for the name Molly had written.
"Simple, I think. " John said, his eyes moving about and never quite landing on Sherlock.
"Girls have different body types, underwear that need to fit these things...lighter or heavier...flows. " John stopped with a cough.
Sherlock was ignoring him.
"This one says it has wings? Why would it need wings? Can it fly itself away to the bins when its filled? " Sherlock commented, as he pulled one out and moved his wrist as if to test the air readiness of the product.
"No... " John said, but pursed his lips, suddenly trying not to laugh.
"And THIS! This looks like it would be long enough for Laura to wear as a toga! NO no no... this will not do! "
Sherlock scanned the colorful packages and takes one down, pointing to it, holding it up for John.
"This...this would be better. Look, the girl on the package is actually smiling! Swimming with her friends. "
"Uh, Sherlock, no. Those are tampons. "
"Pads are one thing. But you do NOT want to be the one to buy her first box of those. "
"Why ever not? Seems most promising. "
"Sherlock...think about where they...go... "
Sherlock turns the box over and reads. Suddenly, he hurls the box from him as if it bit him. He backs up shaking his head rapidly.
"Told you. " John said, hands behind his back and rocking on his heels.
"Why why WHY? "
"You'd have to ask a woman. "
"Laura is NOT a woman. She's a little girl. "
"No SO little now, Sherlock. She's a young woman now. God, I am going to enjoy watching you getting ready for HER first date! "
Sherlock stared daggers at his best friend.
John turned away and told Sherlock he was getting the medicine for Laura. He came back, and Sherlock was sitting in the middle of the aisle, head in his hands.
John shook his head and looked up, finally finding the box on Molly's list.
"Here we go. Lets get these on to Laura, then. " He said.
Sherlock started to sit up.
John couldn't help it.
"Just wait. Before long, she will need to be fitted for bra's. " John said as he turned to hide the grin. He was rewarded with something hitting the back of his head. He looked down at the object, and it was the previously discarded winged pad.
"What do you know... " Sherlock said, with a impressed look on his face and stepping around John.
At the chip and pin, Sherlock was thankful there were no complications ringing up the product. The less attention drawn to this, the better. Behind them a man with a hand held basket stood, looking down at the products.
"Ah, so...which is this for? You the woman? " He asked, laughing at his own vulgarity and looking at John, then Sherlock. At the icy stare from the taller man the guy back tracked.
"Sorry...nothing wrong with that, you know. "
"I know there is nothing wrong with that. " Sherlock said, smirking. " But as neither he or I is capable of menstruating, this could only mean I am purchasing because I have a woman in my home. Simple deduction. "
He looked down at the contents of the man's basket.
"TV dinner, lotion, and a magazine with naked women on the cover. " Sherlock clucked his tongue and shook his head. " Something you OBVIOUSLY can't say the same for. Sorry, mate. "
John grabbed the bag and drug Sherlock out of the store. The man staring after them.
When they got back to the house, Molly got the products off to Laura's room. It was taking too long, and Sherlock was anxious to make up with his daughter. They'd gotten very close and he was unaccustomed to her shutting him off from her.
He stood and went into the girls bedroom, his concern doubling as he saw her curled on the bed, a pillow tucked against her abdomen, her eyes wet with tears of obvious pain.
"Get OUT. "
"I want to help. "
"You've done enough. GO. "
"How am I responsible for a basic biological function? "
"Science, Mr. Know it all! Its the FATHER'S STUFF that decides gender. YOURS decided I had to be a GIRL. GIRLS have to do THIS. So...YOU DID THIS TO ME! "
"Laura, darling... "
"I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU. GO GO go go... "
Laura didn't handle pain well. And the more she got riled up, the worse it seemed to be.
Sherlock turned and strode out of the room, and out of the house.
And to 221 B.
Where he had been ever since.
He wasn't sure if he ever wanted to leave. He couldn't take this every month. Molly didn't get like this!
So here he would stay until the demon left his child's body and life could resume some normalcy.
Menstruation meant puberty.
Would ANYTHING ever be the same?
Sherlock sat down on his chair and went into his mind palace, if nothing but to remember the sweet little cherub he'd once known.
New York later that day...
A perfectly manicured finger pressed the digit on her mobile to answer the insistent ring. The phone was held up, but it wasn't verbally answered.
"It has started. Three days ago. She will be ready pretty soon. Shall we begin? "
"Yes. " A soft voice answered simply before hanging up.
The finger tapped on the mobile as a figure got up from her seat and went to the mirror.
Tucking a nonexistent hair in place, Irene smirked at her reflection.
"Unfortunately for you, my dear Sherlock, the game is far from over. Payback is indeed a bitch...and so am I! "
With a wicked giggle, she turns, grabs her small clutch, and with a pat on its side, leaves the room, the tap of her heels echoing in her wake.