037 || dictated;

[workaphilic]

[It's been some time since Sherlock's touched the journal. He'd been licking his wounds after the Event Horizon, carefully putting himself back in order. It's more difficult than it sounds, building his mind back from the bottom up.

But when the journal opens today, it's not Sherlock's voice, but a young girl's. She's frank and well-spoken for a child her age, ever her father's daughter.]

Hi, everyone. I'm Rachel, and this is Gladstone.

[A dog barks appropriately. Hello, everyone.]

We're bored. But Daddy's hogging the microscope, and since Mommy and Billie aren't here, we decided we'd come say hi to all of you. Right, Gladstone?

[More barking, which seems to finally summon Sherlock's attention. His voice is fainter, in the background.]

Rachel, give me that.

[She presses the journal closer to her face, and talks fast.]

He's coming! He's grumpy, but don't worry, he just needs to go outside and see the bees. Remember, bees!

[She dissolves into giggles as Sherlock seizes the journal from her.]

We'll go soon. Be patient.

[Then he turns to the journal, open in his palm, and his voice gets slightly awkward around the edges.]

That's all, residents. Go on to the next page.

Comments

[heloise]

Honey-bearing. [ That is, mellifera. ]

Abel would enjoy honey, though not bees unfortunately.

[ He might try to eat them! ]

[workaphilic]

Okay. [She says it the same way someone might say 'your loss.'] We can still play, I guess.

Later. [He's speaking sternly, grappling over control over his daughter-that-isn't.] Half hour, at least. I need to finish this.

[heloise]

[ But bees sting and stuff, even when being chewed up! ]

I could keep her company while you work. Abel can, and Gladstone.

[workaphilic]

I wouldn't subject you to the both of them.

[Rachel sighs extravagantly. It's very reminiscent of a certain someone in her family.

Regardless, he just refuses to let her go somewhere he isn't.]

[heloise]

What about the three of you?