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It was supposed to be a regular crime scene. You know the usual, Sherlock drawn to the crime scene with John in tow. John, wanted a regular night. Sherlock, wanted in interesting night. And an interesting night it would be.
John and Sherlock climbed out of the taxi. The building was surrounded with people and police officers trying to keep the people away. The smell of smoke was in the air, meaning there had most likely been a fire. There were two police officers, Lestrade and Sally huddled together. John soon figured out they weren't huddling, but investigating something. And it wasn't a something, but a someone.

He and Sherlock went over to the small group to see a little child, no older than one or two. You were clutching a blanket covered in dirt. Your cheeks were tear stained and eyes puffy. The small group looked up at Sherlock and John. "Who's this?" John asked. "We're not sure, we can't get her to say anything," Sally said. Sherlock knelt next to the little girl. You looked at him, eyes widening in fear. You clutched onto your blanket tighter. "Hi," Sherlock said softly. You didn't say anything. "Can you tell me your name?" he asked. "(Name)," you squeaked.

"Where's her parents?" John whispered to Lestrade. "We can't find her dad or mum," he whispered back. At the mention of your parents, your eyes began filling up with tears. You began crying. "Shh, shh, it's ok. We'll find your parents," Sherlock said. That didn't do anything. It didn't even seem like you heard him.

Another police officer came out of the building and whispered something to the one near you. The police officer nodded and said, "There's no trace of her parents. It's like they vanished." You cried harder.

"We'll take her," Sherlock said. He picked you up. You buried your head into his shoulder, the cries becoming softer and softer. "Wait, what? Sherlock, you have no idea how to take care of a child, let alone a toddler. Neither of us do!" John said. Sherlock stood. "John, we can't let her go into foster care. We did good getting her to say her name," Sherlock replied. John sighed, "You're right." John turned to the police officer and said, "Are there any forms we have to fill out?" "Yes, but I don't have them with me. I can bring them by tomorrow. Where do you live?" he asked. John gave him the address, then followed Sherlock into a taxi.

You ended up falling asleep on the ride to the loft. Sherlock laid you on the couch and covered you up. You pulled your blanket closer and curled into a ball.

The next day, you woke up before Sherlock and John. You sat up, taking in your new surroundings, trying to figure out why you weren't in your bed. You climbed off the couch, grabbed your blankie, and walked down the hall. One of the doors was opened. Your one yr. old mind filling with curiosity, you walked in. Sherlock was lying in bed still in his clothes from last night. You walked over to the bed, somehow managed to pull yourself up, and laid on top of him. You drifted back to sleep on top of the detective.

Sherlock, who had woken up when he heard footsteps, smiled softly and went back to sleep.