Sherlock: The Nanny's Anomaly

Bonding with Rosie (Susanna POV)

Considering I have watched many children before who could cry for hours when their parents left, Rosie is a breath of fresh air. Even though she did cry a little when John and Sherlock left. I keep Rosie against my chest and hold up a few toys for her to explore. She squeals and reaches for the brightly colored soft cube, which I bring closer to her, "I know, Rosie, these are fun, aren't they?"

While she plays with the cube I catalog extensive mental notes, mostly out of habit. I'll of course record these observations later but for now I sit contentedly, playing with Rosie.

For about three hours I sit on the sofa with Rosie, introducing her to new toys and bonding with her. I even turn on some children's music and sing to her, much to her delight.

Around 8 AM my cell begins vibrating erratically. I shift Rosie so that I can check it and watch as several messages are delivered to my inbox. Almost all of them from are from John, who is texting in rapid succession. He asks if everything is okay and if anything has happened; the typical questions babysitters get from anxious parents.

I reply by telling him that Rosie is doing great, then take a short clip of her playing gleefully and send it. This soothes him enough for him to stop spam texting me. I chuckle and check the other messages. A couple from Zella, and one from Sherlock stating that he was tracking down a serial killer and wouldn't be back for a while.

About a minute later John texts to let me know that he's meeting up with Sherlock to work the case and say thanks for the clip. I smile, texting them both a quick response.

Rosie gurgles, tossing the toy she'd been playing with and then looking up at me. I match her gaze, "Rosie, are you allowed to throw your toys?"

Of course she only cooed in response, so I picked up the toy and put it away, giving her a new one. This keeps us busy for a couple more hours, after which she starts to grumble. I check her diaper and sure enough, it's time for a another change. I take her up to her nursery and change her, unwilling to set Rosie down on the floor where there was a thick layer of dust and dander; which is not good for her.

As I'm cleaning up I hear commotion downstairs. I finish and carry Rosie back to the living room, finding Sherlock and John there, "I thought you guys were on the hunt for a serial killer."

Sherlock says nothing as he's busily pinning photo print-outs, maps, and documents onto the wall beside the shot up smiley face. John replies, "We are. But we have to do some research. And Sherlock, well, he's-"

"I need to go to my mind palace!" Sherlock interrupts, having connected the papers with red yarn. He puts his hands together underneath his chin and becomes completely still. John sighs whilst I gaze curiously at the consulting detective.

"His mind palace is where he stores important information for later."

"So he goes there to think," I hum, "Interesting." I turn my attention back to John, whose eyes have rested on Rosie. I smile, take her off of my hip and hold her out for him. He eagerly takes her into his arms, greeting her with a kiss.

"How was Rosie?"

"She was great! She cried a bit when you and Sherlock left but after that she was fine."

"She... cried..?" I gently raise my hands, catching the skeptical haze in his eyes. Before I can reply Sherlock jumps in.

"Crying is a natural means of coping when a parent leaves. I observed it this morning after you left. Susanna was able to effectively calm Rosie down by redirecting her attention to some toys."

John nodded in comprehension and I walked back to where I'd left my phone, carefully stepping around Sherlock. It's blinking rapid blue. As I pick it up Sherlock remarks, "Could I use your mobile to send a text?"

"Why can't you use your own?" I dare ask, opening up my inbox. More texts from Zella, giving me reminders to which I respond with 'Thank You!'. One from Ma, a couple from my best friend Brooklyn, and several from other family and friends. Most wishing me good luck on my first day.

As I clear them all Sherlock responds, "There is a good chance that my number may be recognized and for that reason I do not want to use John's either." I look at John with one raised eyebrow who sighs, obviously well used to these requests.

"Fine. Here." I open up a new message and place the cell firmly in Sherlock's hand. I turn around and open my bag to get some chapstick. Obviously working as a nanny for the London crime duo is going to take some adjustment. 

I couldn't help but include Sherlock's texting habit. I hope your enjoyed it!!