A diagnosis on Violet Burke came the next day; she would live, but she would be too weak to take care of Beatrice. Sherlock received the news that morning, not affected, feeling it obvious. Still, he wasn't sure what to make of it. He always thought he was one step ahead of everything, but now he didn't know what to do.

He would never get the real story on Violet Burke, why she truly ran away; he would never see Violet again, which he didn't mind that much; Beatrice would never see Violet ever again, which he did mind. She would be hospitalized for the rest of her life, which was only to be a couple of years, maybe a decade if she was lucky.

There was no case that day, which John thought would make Sherlock irritable, but John couldn't find him that morning. He looked around the flat in the usual places- the kitchen, the window, the couch- and couldn't fine his detective anywhere. That was, until, he heard the baby in his bedroom.

John walked into the bedroom to find Sherlock lying on his bed, Beatrice on his chest, patting his face with her chubby baby hands.

"She was up all night," Sherlock said, not even turning his head.

"Like her dad?" John asked, grinning. Sherlock rolled his eyes. John chuckled as he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed wi the two.

"So," John continued, "what are we going to do then, Sherlock? Have you decided what was going to happen?"

"According to the birth certificate," Sherlock replied, "I am legally supposed to be her father. I don't really think I have a choice, do I? Besides, you or Mrs. Hudson would've talked me out of giving her a different home, am I right?"

John smiled. "I'll leave you two alone then."

"John? Before you go, I have a question. Have I changed to you?"

"Sherlock, that depends when."

"I don't understand."

"Because I think that you're quite cruel and not sentimental, but ever since I met you, you seemed to get nicer over time."


"Oh! You meant with Beatrice! Oh yeah, you've changed just a little bit, but not much. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes, that's all." Sherlock lifted his hand to his daughter's level as she grabbed onto his finger. John smiled at them as he left the room, shutting the door.

Beatrice giggled when her father would smile at her. She patted his nose with her tiny hand, and she made him laugh a little. After a while, she began to look tired, yawning. Sherlock let her rest on his chest as she fell asleep. Sherlock stroked the little girl's back.

Over two weeks ago, he would've never imagined being a father. Sherlock would want nothing to do with children. But now, he had a daughter, and it turned his world around for good.

"Don't worry," Sherlock murmured, kissing Beatrice's small head, "I'll be good to you. I promise."

And so, Sherlock Holmes became a father to Beatrice Violet Holmes. She was his daughter.

His little girl.

The end.

Author's Note: well, it has finally reached its end. Yes, the story is finished. But it won't be the last you see of Sherlock and Beatrice. I will be writing more Sherlock Fics as well as another story about Sherlock and his little girl.

I'd like to take the time now to thank you all for the tremendous feedback and appreciation. This is my first Fanfiction and I was very glad that so many people enjoyed my writing. Thank you guys a ton! I will be writing many fan fictions soon, so be prepared! And don't hesitate to come back and read this one If you loved it.

-Detective M.