You would probably never expect it from anyone else than Sherlock. But it was true. Sherlock had a daughter. No one could believe it less than John. Emily Holmes was only four when she came to live with Sherlock. All Sherlock knew was that her mum mysteriously disappeared one day and now Emily needed a guardian. And of course that guardian was Sherlock.

He wasn't exactly happy about it. Children were not his favorite. They were loud. In constant need of attention. Annoying. But he didn't exactly have a choice. After all, she was his daughter. He couldn't just leave her on his own. Sherlock wasn't that heartless. But he still wasn't pleased with the situation. When she first came, a man was with Emily, to explain what was going on with her situation. But Sherlock, of course, only half listened. He was too busy trying to decide which case to choose next.

By the time he was gone, and Emily was practically settled in, John had been the only one who had listened. "Did you even listen to a word he said?"

"No, but that isn't important right now." he responded, still lying on the couch like before.

"Not important? Sherlock, I don't know if you realize this or not but a four year old, scared, little girl is living with us. And she happens to be your daughter."

Sherlock sat up. "Why is she scared?"

John sighed, giving up on hope that Sherlock had even the slightest heart for this little girl. "I don't know. But I'm certain she is scared of you." John started getting his jacket and keys. "I'm going out. Please try and at least talk to your daughter."

He walked out of apartment 221B. Sherlock laid back down and shut his eyes and let out a loud sigh. "I'm bored." he said to himself.

"Only boring people get bored." Sherlock sat up and looked over at where the voice came from. Emily was standing in the doorway looking over at Sherlock.

"Who told you that?"

"Mummy did."

"Did your Mummy tell you a lot of things like that?" Emily thought for a moment before nodding her head yes. "Anyway, why are you out of bed?"

"I'm scared."

Sherlock sighed. Maybe John is right. "Alright, come here, Emily." Emily walked over and crawled onto Sherlock's lap. "What are you so scared of?"

Emily shrugged. "Do you think my Mummy's dead?"

Sherlock stared at Emily before answering, "I'm not sure, sweetie. But try not to think about your Mummy, OK?"

She nodded. "But I think that's why I'm so scared, Daddy."

Suddenly, Sherlock's whole world stopped. Emily, his daughter, had just called him Daddy. He knew he wouldn't be getting used to that anytime soon. "Just try not to think about it and you won't feel as scared anymore." Emily smiled and rested her head on his chest. Her eyes fluttered close and she suddenly felt much heavier in his arms. She had fallen asleep.

Sherlock carefully stood, trying not to wake her, as he brought her back to her room and lay her down in her bed (well, technically is wasn't her room, it was Sherlock's). "Thank you, Daddy." Emily muttered, sleepily.

"Your welcome. Now get some sleep."

Emily nodded and slowly drifted back to sleep again. Sherlock smiled and kissed the top of her head, then proceeding to leave her room. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he thought.