scaryperi:

        [ she grins happily when he picks her up,
        settling onto his lap and nuzzling her head
        into his chest, gripping his shirt with a small
        hand. ] 

                                        “where’s mummy an’ papa?”

        [ she had been perfectly content with sherlock
        for a time, but now she was curious about her
        parents. they hadn’t forgotten about her and
        hamish, had they? ] 

          [ his  hands go to   support   her   back,      on the
            off-chance she should go toppling   backwards.
            he’s  slowly  getting  accommodated to life with
            children; his flat, however, was a different story. ] 

                                “—Out shopping.” At least, he thought.
                                                                 It   had  been   more
                                                                 than an hour since they’d
                                                                 dropped the children off. Perhaps
                                                                 they  were    tripling    the  already
                                                         god-awful high stack of Christmas presents.
                                                         (No,     Sherlock      most definitely did    not
                                                           contribute to half of the mountain.) 

( hyperion. ):

        “Oh, please,” Peri replied, shifting back
        in her seat and stretching her legs out. 
        “The public? Give me a break. I don’t see
        everyone stampeding in here to make sure
        that you aren’t in here not sleeping or about
        to die of starvation.” Her eyebrows popped
        up, his expression mirroring Sherlock’s. 
        “That’s just Misha and I, isn’t it?”

     True. She and his brother  had  become

     rather involved in his life. He shuddered

     to think about what would happen when

     he  came old  & senile.  A  small sigh, of

     either  defeat  or  acceptance,  his   gaze

     levelled with hers. “I’ve been living alone

     longer than the both  of  you  have   been

     alive, you know.”

( hyperion. ):

        “Nope. Still don’t wanna hear it.” Peri said as
        she shook her head and sat down across from
        Sherlock. She placed her elbows on the table,
        propping her chin up in her hands. “And I don’t
        recall asking for your opinion on my choice of
        reading material, Father.” She poked her tongue
        out at him with a smirk.

     “I don’t remember offering my library to the public."  His

      brows rose, head tilting to the  side. "And  yet  here we

      are."  Though his tone offered little kindness, Sherlock

      didn’t feel much annoyance to her impromptu visits, or

      her rummaging through his  books. He  was  happy  to

      banter  with  her,   happier   even  that  she   still  came

      around  221B as an adult.

( hyperion. ) :

        After determining that she had, in fact, heard
        Sherlock correctly, an eyebrow rose. “I’m going
        to assume you meant chamomile tea, because
        if not, you’ve seen some weirder shit than I could
        have ever imagined, and I’m really not up for that
        story today.”

          “Assume what you will, Hyperion. ” A small shrug of the

           shoulders, Sherlock peered upward. Truly, it had been

           a slip—too many wires crossing in that  fun  little  brain

           of his. Of course, she didn’t need  to  know  that.  “It’s a

           more interesting  story  than  what  you’ve   picked  out,

           at least.”

( Hyyperion ):

        “You act like I’m gonna fling it across the room.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

               “—and don’t drop it.”

     “Be careful with that.”