Imagine Sherlock arranging a vacation trip for your birthday

You were seated in Sherlock’s chair in 221B’s sitting room, reading Catcher in the Rye for the nth time. You were clutching the book thoughtfully, letting your eyes pass through the familiar words. But your momentum was broken when you heard movements in the kitchen.

“…Huh?” You raised an eyebrow when you saw Sherlock ridding the dining table of his experiments and tools. Even his trusty microscope, albeit briefly, was put away. What got your attention though was that he was doing it with the faintest smile, laced with sheer innocence.

You got up on your feet and walked towards the kitchen. “Sherlock, what’s going on?” You asked unintentionally mimicking his smile.

“I have a plan.” He smiled at you as he leaned close to give you a gentle kiss. “Sit, please.” He motioned to the chair before bending and disappearing for a second.

“Uh, what is that?” You slightly chuckled at what your boyfriend placed on the table.

“A globe. That’s fairly obvious.” He frowned a bit, lightly dusting the spherical map.

“Yeah, I get that but why is it here?” You asked.

“Well, your birthday is coming up and I want to take you somewhere. Just the two of us.” He avoided your eyes, trying to hide his blush.

“Sherlock, that’s very sweet of you but-”

“It’s either this or California.” He cut you off, staring at the ceiling.

“No. Not California.” You warned with a finger. “We went there with John and Mary last year on my birthday and I nearly had a heat stroke.”

“It’s your fault you were born in summer…” He murmured and you shot him a death glare. “Anyway, that’s why we’re doing this instead.” He patted the large globe.

“…Fine.” You sighed. “What do I do?”

“You close your eyes and hold your finger out like this,” He explained and you followed along. “Then I spin the globe. Wherever you touch first, that’s where we’re going. No arguments.”

“Got it. Let’s do this” You breathed before closing your eyes shut and holding you finger out. You hear the wobble of the globe on its stand as Sherlock spun it. “There.” You said, stopping the spinning globe.

“Oh…” His face fell when he saw where you pinpointed.

“What- Oh.” You both stared blankly at the center of the Bermuda Triangle.



“…Let’s just go to Cali.” You spoke.

“Yeah. Good call.”


“To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes.But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…”

From the 21st Chapter of the Little Prince.

Untitled #4 - Kidlock Sherlolly

It was a warm sunny day and while her father was briefly busy with a work-related phone call, Molly Hooper was happily playing in the sandpit on the playground close to her home in London. Her hair was in pigtails and she was wearing a light blue dress with sunflowers, too busy with making a sand castle to pay attention to the other children around her.

That was until a shadow fell upon her and her sand castle, and she looked up surprised.

Three older boys, probably around eight years old and therefore twice her age, looked down at her.

“Get out, this our place!”

She just stared scared at them with her huge brown eyes and then looked for her dad but he had walked a few steps away and didn’t hear her when she called for him.

“Hah, she’s calling for her dad! What a baby!”
Another of the boys snickered.

“I’m not a baby!” Molly squeaked, getting up from her sitting position.

“Yes you are! And babies and girls aren’t allowed in our sandpit! Especially if they look weird, and your nose is super ugly!”

Molly felt a sting in her heart and a lump forming in her throat.

“I can play in this sandpit, it’s also mine!”

She stammered, her voice shaking and tears forming in her eyes.

“No, get the hell out now!”


“Fine then!”

The third boy started to stomp on her sandcastle that she’d worked on for a good half an hour now and Molly cried out in protest, shoving at him to try and stop him. But not a chance.

The little girl shrieked when one of the boys pushed her over and she tumbled and fell back onto the sand, hitting her head on the ground.

Mostly because of the shock not the pain, she started to cry.


The boys looked up confused at the sudden voice and then snorted with laughter at the sight of a young thin and pale boy with curly dark hair who glared at them angrily.

“Oh it’s the freak again!”

“I’m no freak, I’m a sociopath! And now LEAVE HER ALONE!”

Sherlock called angrily.

“And what if not, hm? Will you try to fight us, freak?”

“Yes I will!!”

The boys just laughed more.

“You and what army? We’re three and you’re alone!”

Sherlock whistled loudly and suddenly there was barking to be heard and a giant Irish Red Setter jumped across a small hedge next to Sherlock.

“Go get them, Redbeard!!”

The dog barked and then started speeding into the direction of the three boys who cried out in fear and turned on their heels, running as fast as they could, Redbeard right behind them, chasing them to the edge of the playground where he stopped and kept barking loudly until they’d disappeared around a corner, before he returned to his young owner who petted his head proudly and scratched behind his ears.

“Good boy! Well done, Redbeard!!”

Sherlock smiled brightly and proudly before turning to help Molly up from the floor.

“Are you okay…?”

He asked, suddenly looking almost shy.

Molly wiped her cheeks and sniffled, her crying having ceased at the first sight of Redbeard. She brushed the sand off her dress and nodded hesitantly.

“Who-… who are you…?”

“I’m Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. I’m a pirate! And this is my pirate dog! Redbeard!”

Sherlock proudly announced, pointing at Redbeard who was curiously waving his tail and getting closer to sniff Molly’s hand.

“Does he bite…?”

She asked scared but her new friend shook his head.

“Just bullies. And my brother’s shoes.”

“Can-… can I stroke him…?”

Molly asked hesitantly.

“Yes sure!”

She reached her hand out to shyly stroke over Redbeard’s head, smiling brightly when the Irish Red Setter started happily licking her hand and rubbing his head against it, his tail wagging like crazy.

“What’s your name?”

Sherlock asked, joining Molly in stroking his dog, looking quite pleased that she liked him too apparently.

“Molly… Molly Hooper…”

“Nice to meet you, Molly.”


Both children looked up when a skinny ginger teenager, clad in a white shirt and jeans, jogged onto the playground, wearing an unnerved expression.

“I told you not to run away, for gods sake! Mummy would be very mad!”

“Who’s that?” Molly whispered, staring up with widened eyes at the stranger and trying to somewhat hide behind Redbeard.

“Just my brother, Myc.”

The older Holmes brother corrected, furrowing his brows at the sight of the little girl.

“Sherlock, who’s your friend…?”

“That’s Molly.” Sherlock announced. “Redbeard and I saved her!”

“Did you now…? Molly, is that true…?”

She nodded quickly.

“Yes from three mean boys. They ruined my sandcastle…”

Her little face turned very sad and it seemed like she wanted to start crying again but then Redbeard licked her cheek and nuzzled it, making her giggle involuntarily.

“This is a fantastic dog! He’s so cute!”

“He’s a pirate dog, he’s not cute!” Sherlock protested.

“Sherlock… don’t be rude…”
Mycroft scolded him gently and his little brother chewed his lip briefly and then looked at Molly again.

“But you’re right, he’s a fantastic dog. He’s the best!”


She looked up at the sight of her father who hurried to her side, looking a bit mistrustful at seeing her with strangers, especially as one was a teenager.

“Molly, how often have mummy and I told you not to talk to strangers?”

“He’s right, you shouldn’t do that.” Mycroft nodded.

Mr Hooper looked up at the teenager at that. “Sorry, who are you…?”

“Mycroft Holmes is my name. And this is my brother Sherlock and our dog-”

“/My/ dog!!!”

Mycroft rolled his eyes discreetly
“/His/ dog Redbeard.”

“Daddy, they saved me! There were three mean boys and they pushed me over and stomped on my sandcastle but Redbeard and Sherlock chased them away!”

“Really…? Hm…”

Mr Hooper smiled a bit and squatted down in front of Sherlock.

“Well then. Thank you very much, Sherlock, for helping my daughter.”

He offered him his hand and Sherlock took it after a moment, shaking it.

“It was my duty! I’m a pirate, you know?”

“Are you now?”

“Yes and good pirates and pirate dogs protect girls!”

“That’s true indeed.” Mr Hooper nodded, smiling warmly and amused.

“Well-… Sorry to interrupt but Sherlock and I were actually on the way home… Our mother is waiting with lunch…” Mycroft said after clearing his throat.

Molly looked very sad at the thought of having to leave Redbeard and her new friend.

“Daddy, can’t we go with them…?”

“Erm… no honey, I’m sorry. But maybe Sherlock and Redbeard will come here again…?”

Sherlock looked up at his brother questioningly.

“Well-… I guess we could come here tomorrow afternoon…?” Mycroft offered.

“Great. Well then we’ll see you tomorrow.
Thank you again, Sherlock. And you too, Redbeard.”

Mr Holmes gently stroked the excited dogs head and then took his daughter’s hand.

“Come on, honey, we should go home for lunch too.”

Molly nodded slowly and reached to pick up her bucket and shovel from the ground, looking back at Sherlock then.

“See you tomorrow, Sherlock…?”

He nodded eagerly.

“See you tomorrow, Molly!”

Mycroft took out a leash from his back pocket and attached it to Redbeard’s collar, nodding towards one exit of the playground then.

“Come on then, Sherlock.”

Sherlock looked at Molly a last time, flashed her a smile, waved at her, and then grabbed Mycroft’s hand, the three of them heading off in one direction while the Hoopers headed in the other.


“Yes honey…?”

“What’s a sociopath…?”

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