(Y/N) POV
Scotland Yard was busy with all the murders going on in London. Inspector Lestrade held my tiny frame as I sat on his lap in his office as the man who adopted me looked through all the evidence. The famous detective, Sherlock Holmes, had taken me in after he helped an orphanage with some sort of scandal; John Wattson had noticed how fascinated Sherlock was with me and convinced him to take me in. I'm still not sure why but, I love having a family!
"What do you think, (y/n)?" whispered Lestrade, ruffling my hair. "You've watched him for a while, know his ways; what could this be?" I giggled before drawing my attention to a notebook that seemed out of place. Confused, I jumped down and walked towards Sherlock; John stepped between us and bent down to talk.
"You shouldn't bother Sherlock right now, he's in his mind palace." I nodded but still wanted to help him.
"But something's wrong here," I mumbled, grabbing his gloves to pick up the notebook.
"(Y/N)!" Lestrade and John tried to stop me but it was too late, I grabbed a scalpel and sliced open the inside of the cover. In a secret compartment, the unknown murder weapon sat quietly with dried blood stuck to it; smiling, I tugged at Sherlock's coat to show him.
"What?!" he exclaimed, annoyed with the world around him. Once he saw the book in my hand, a smile like mine appeared on his face as the puzzle was complete. "You are a genius! John! We have a cult to catch!" He kissed my forehead for the first time and rushed out the door with the doctor and inspector. Mary, John's love, was notified to pick me up and take me back to 221b Baker Street.
"Here are some biscuits and the hot chocolate is-"
"It's alright, I know. Thank you, Mary!" I hummed, starting to close the door.
"Be in bed by nine!" she called, the door shutting with a satisfying click. I waved past Ms. Hudson and scrambled up the stairs to sit in Sherlock's chair. I wrapped his bathrobe around me in comfort, turning the TV on to watch the news quietly. Hours went by, I had had a few cups of tea and saved two cookies for Sherlock and John.
"Sherlock, stop!" I heard John yell as the front door opened. Loud footsteps came from the stairs as a very annoyed Sherlock approached me, lifting me up and placing me on his lap, snuggling his face into my (h/c) hair. "Sherlock, it was just a miscalculation. They happen."
"Was I wrong?" I asked, gazing at John as he made tea.
"No, (y/n), but we were later than Sherlock expected. Thank you for the help, kiddo," John hummed, kissing my forehead before sitting in his chair with a book and his tea. I nodded, snuggling closer to mister Holmes; quickly, I jumped from him and rushed to the kitchen. I jumped onto a chair and reached for the plate of cookies, heading back to him with hopeful butterflies in my stomach.
"Here, I saved you each a cookie." Sherlock stared at me blankly as John thanked me and took his cookie. Wrapping his arms around me, Sherlock smiled warmly before accepting his treat.
"I'm very...pleased to have you with me." He nuzzled my nose before sitting himself back in his chair with me on his lap.