While I was taking a break from fan fiction I gained an interest in new fandoms, one of which was Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and BBC's Sherlock. Truth be told I can't tell you how I came up with this specific story, but I have a feeling it has something to do with watching Supernatural at the same time.

There are two things you should know. While I ship Johnlock (I really thought they were going that route in A Scandal in Belgravia), this fic is only pre-Johnlock. I'm hoping to write another story where they get together after this one. Also, I'm an American, so I might make mistakes here and there with vocabulary. For example, I might accidentally write "cookies" instead of "biscuits" or "trunk of the car" instead of "boot of the car." If anyone catches any errors, feel free to let me know so I can fix it!

I really hope you all enjoy the fic!

I don't own Sherlock in any way, shape, or form. Although you probably knew that.

Rosie Watson used her little shovel to scoop as much sand into the bucket as she could. Her goal was to build the best sandcastle ever, no easy feat when all you have is what's in the sandbox. There actually might be more sand in the pockets of her overalls than what was in the bucket.

She looked over to the bench a few yards behind her and enthusiastically waved to the two occupants. She waited for her father and Sherlock to return the gesture before going back to her project.

John didn't take his eyes off of his little girl as he talked to Sherlock. "So what about-"

"No."

"You don't even know what nursery I was going to say."

Sherlock sighed. "Given the ones you looked at earlier on your laptop and excluding the ones I know you wouldn't like and the ones I've already rejected, you're obviously talking about the nursery in Southgate. I researched the background of the teachers. All are incompetent."

"...You got into my laptop?"

"Your passwords are getting more challenging. I congratulate you for that."

"Well thank you for your invaluable input," John sarcastically remarked, "but I believe it's my decision what nursery is most fitting for Rosie."

Sherlock scoffed. "She'd learn more at Baker Street."

John finally looked at him. "It's not just about learning academics. It's also about learning social skills."

"She socializes with plenty of people. You, me, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, Lestrade-"

"I mean with people her own age, Sherlock."

"That's why we take her to the park," Sherlock pointed out.

John gestured to the playground. "How many kids are here today, Sherlock?"

The looming dark clouds had scared off many of the regulars, leaving only a couple of other families. "A rich boy with his nanny. I'm guessing he's around eight or nine. Then there's that one boy going down his favorite slide over and over again while his mother's on the phone. And then there's that one girl who pushed Rosie over before kicking you in the shin a few weeks ago."

"And Rosie's not socializing with any of them."

"Well of course not. They're not her friends. When the weather gets better, she'll have her friends to play with."

"She'll make more friends at nursery that weather won't keep away," John countered. "Vanessa said she was planning on sending Lewis to-"

"Hey!"

At Rosie's outcry, both men were instantly on their feet and running over to the sandbox. Luckily, the one who caused her to shout was just that rich boy Sherlock had deduced earlier.

"That's mine!"

The boy just started making designs in the sand with the stolen shovel. "You should learn to share."

Rosie stood and reared her tiny hand back in prepartation for hitting the thief. She didn't care if it was against the rules.

"Rosie!" her father called, "What happened?!"

As Rosie let her hand drop to her side, Sherlock whispered, "Isn't it obvious?"

She pointed at the boy. "He taked my shovel!"

The boy didn't look intimidated by the arrival of Sherlock and John. He just continued his designs in the sand. Even when the nanny arrived, he showed no inkling of remorse.

"Jack, give the shovel back please."

He didn't react to his nanny's request. Rosie was growing impatient and was tempted to jump on him to get the shovel back. It had been a gift from Grandma and Grandpa (as Mr. and Mrs. Holmes insisted she call them) and she wasn't going to let this boy leave with it. It didn't matter if he was taller than her.

"Jack..." The nanny began wringing her hands as she pleaded. It was clear which one was in charge here.

"She needs to learn to share," he said.

John knelt so that he was closer to eye level with the children. "Did you ask to borrow it?"

Rosie answered for him. "No! I was using it to make my castle and he taked it from me!"

Jack looked at the hill of sand. "That's not a castle."

"Yes it is! Give back my shovel!"

"Rosie," said John, "Let me handle this, Sweetheart."

"No, John," said Sherlock, "Let me handle this." He stepped forward. "So... Jack... You do understand that you stole that shovel."

Jack used his hand to erase part of his drawing in the sand. If he heard Sherlock, he didn't show it.

"Just as taking that chocolate earlier was stealing."

He froze. Sherlock did that smug, one-sided grin of his as all eyes were on him. Rosie's in curiosity, Jack's in fear, and John and the nanny's in uneasiness.

"I didn't take anything from the sweets jar!"

"I didn't say anything about the sweets jar."

The nanny spoke up, "There's a sweets jar in the kitchen."

"And not something you can take from whenever you want. You should know that just because you have a bad back and no mother doesn't mean you can take things without permission."

"Sherlock!" John exclaimed.

He ignored him. "I would suggest that you return the shovel if you want your father to continue seeing you as the child that can do no wrong."

Smiling at Jack, Rosie held out her hand for him to put the shovel in. Hesitantly, he gave it to her before standing up and walking away. His nanny apologized before going after him.

"I'm going to stick my tongue out at him!" said Rosie.

"No you're not," said John, "We should actually head home now." He asked Sherlock, "Think we can make it back before it rains?"

Sherlock examined the sky. "I think so. But we better hurry. It won't be long before Sesame Street starts."

Rosie placed her shovel in the bucket before running in the direction of 221B Baker Street. "Let's go!"

John stood up as fast as he could. "Rosie, wait! The road!"

Like the well-behaved girl she was, Rosie stopped and waited for John and Sherlock to reach her. John was very grateful he didn't usually have to chase her when she got excited. Running after people for cases was enough, thank you very much.

When they reached her, Rosie used her free hand to hold her father's. "Sorry, Daddy. I just really love Sesame Street."

The three continued walking home. "It's all right. You just need to remember to think when you get excited."

There was a brief silence before Rosie asked Sherlock, "How did you know all about Jack?"

Sherlock explained, "Jack's clothes and hair were the key factors. His clothes were oddly clean despite spending time at the park and not a single hair was out of place. The nanny had even stopped him to comb his hair. This means he's expected to have an impeccable appearance, which makes the smudge of chocolate at the corner of his mouth out of place. You'd think the nanny or whoever was with him when he had chocolate would have made sure there was no trace of it on his mouth. This means he ate it without anyone knowing.

"As for the deceased mother, whenever he saw a mother and child together, he looked envious. This means either an absent mother or a dead one. However, his expression never changed whether he looked at a loving mother or one who was ignoring her child. So she's deceased. This leaves his father who's under the impression he's a little angel."

John said, "Let me guess. Something else about his hair?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No. It was mostly the nanny that suggested it. As I told you before we had the pleasure of meeting him, John, he's rich. A family with that amount of money would be able to hire a well-trained one, as I'm sure his father did, yet she was unable to discipline him. Her reason obviously being the father would believe Jack didn't deserve any punishment."

Knowing Sherlock used several words Rosie wouldn't comprehend, John asked, "Did you understand all of that, Sweetheart?"

Rosie scrunched up her nose and mouth in concentration. "I don't know."

Rather than roll his eyes like he would with adults, Sherlock smiled. "You will one day."

She smiled back before asking John, "Can you explain it, Daddy?"

John straightened a little as he answered, "I can tell you the boy has back problems by the way he walked."

Rosie was genuinely impressed. "Wow! I wish I was as smart as you and Sherlock!"

"We can start with grammar," said Sherlock, "It's 'took' not 'taked.'"

"Took," she repeated, "Took."

"I think that's a record for how long it's taken for you to correct her," said John.

"I was too focused on retrieving some stolen goods."

John grinned before looking down at Rosie. She had suddenly turned somber. "What's wrong?"

"Was my castle bad?"

Sherlock and John glanced at each other. The 'castle' had just been a low hill of sand. It didn't resemble the inside of the bucket in the least.

Sherlock was the one who answered. "You need wet sand to make a sandcastle. You'll need to use beach sand."

She beamed at the answer, "Can we go to the beach?! Please!"

John gazed at her with such adoration that Sherlock's heart warmed at the sight. "Someday, Sweetheart. Someday."

"I'll build the best castle ever!"

"I believe," Sherlock began. "that I have built the best palace ever."

She gasped. "I can build your Mind Palace!"

"You don't know what it looks like."

"Then draw it!" exclaimed Rosie.

John cleared his throat.

"Oh! I mean, can you draw it for me please?"

Sherlock's Mind Palace was a very private place. One where he went to not only retrieve information but to escape from the outside world. He's given a tour to the John in his mind several times, and Rosie herself would sometimes be there when he needed a child's perspective to solve a case. But the whole time Sherlock knew that neither of them were real. To actually expose his palace to them would be similar to showing a diary.

Then again, it would only be the outside, and he had the right to refuse to explain what certain rooms were for. Not to mention the way she was looking at him made it difficult to say no.

"I'll see what I can do."

That answer seemed to satisfy her as she began expressing her excitement for watching Sesame Street.

As soon as they got back, Rosie dashed to the telly. This left John free to reprimand Sherlock in the kitchen.

"That was a bit not good, Sherlock."

"What was?"

"Bringing up the boy's bad back and dead mother. Then you practically threatened him."

"It got back the shovel, didn't it? Don't act like you weren't impressed."

John crossed his arms. Sure the whole deduction part was impressive. It always was, but Sherlock just didn't know when he crossed the line, which years ago scared off dates, offended witnesses, and even got himself in trouble with the law. Now that John isn't trying to date nowadays, it seems Sherlock has moved on to insulting the parents of Rosie's friends. Luckily, John was able to keep him from socializing with the ones who are easily offended.

"You don't go around interrogating children. Bullies and criminals aren't the same thing."

"He took something that didn't belong to him and without the permission of the owner. That makes him a thief."

John threw his hands halfway up. "I give up. I'm going to watch Sesame Street with Rosie."

Sherlock shrugged off his belstaff. "Boring."

As he hung up his coat he heard Rosie start singing (at least as best as she could) the Sesame Street theme song. How anyone could like that show, he would never understand. The only reason he ever watched that show is if Rosie practically begged him too. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone who asked.

Since the living room was under the control of singing monsters, Sherlock decided it was best to go up to his own room where he could think in peace.

I'm no Sherlock, so the deductions from earlier probably aren't 100% accurate. Either way, did you guys catch the reference to The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire? For those of you who don't know, it's a Sherlock Holmes short story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

I'll be posting when I plan on updating the next chapter when I have an idea of when it'll be finished. It will be on my profile. Until then, let me know what you think!