Title: Beware the Portal
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Rating: G
Length: 511
Summary: A strange portal has had an unfortunate effect on two of Sherlock's friends.
A/N: Taking kidfic as my genre

“I warned him not to come in,” Sherlock said in exasperation.  “But he ignored me, telling me John had said it was urgent and he wasn’t going to let my standing in the doorway stop him.”

The small boy, wearing what appeared to be a gabardine raincoat and school cap, started to grizzle.  This set off the sound of howling from further within 221B.

“Mrs Hudson, can’t you do something about the noise?  I need to think.”

Mrs Hudson came over, a child of about three or four clutching her hand.  “It’s my opinion you have done enough ‘thinking’ for one day.  ‘Thinking’ was what brought this here in the first place.”

Sherlock pulled a face at her.

‘This’ was some sort of portal just inside the entrance to 221B, which Sherlock and Mrs Hudson were carefully skirting round.  Unfortunately John Watson hadn’t done the same, because, after phoning Greg Lestrade to tell him to come over as there was something very strange in their flat, he had stepped into it.  A very small boy wearing a striped jumper had stepped out the other side.

Sherlock’s shouts had attracted Mrs Hudson’s attention.  Sherlock had managed to prevent Mrs Hudson stepping into the portal and more or less pushed her in the direction of the child, explaining the situation as he did.  Mrs Hudson had just succeeded in calming the child sufficiently to discover he was called John when Lestrade arrived.

To his credit Sherlock had tried to prevent the same thing happening to Lestrade, but in pushing Sherlock to one side Lestrade had inevitably stepped into the portal.  The child, looking remarkably like a second world war evacuee had stepped out.

The boy had a label round his neck.  Mrs Hudson held it up and read the name on it.  “Greg Lestrade,” she said.  Turning to Sherlock she added, “Unless you can reverse this in the next five minutes, I suggest you contact your brother.”

Sherlock looked mutinous.

Mrs Hudson glared at him, then turned a softer look at the two children.  “Right, my name is Mrs Hudson, and Sherlock and I will be looking after you for the moment, so there’s no need for tears.  It’s five o’clock so time for tea.  Come into the kitchen with me and I’ll make boiled eggs.  Would you like that?”

Greg sniffed and said politely, “Yes, please, Mrs Hudson.”  John gave a small nod.

Mrs Hudson set about boiling the eggs and making some tea.  Once the tea was brewed she asked Greg to go back into the living room to see if Sherlock wanted a cup.

Greg came running back.  “I couldn’t see Mr Sherlock, but there’s a baby in a crib in the middle of the floor.”

Mrs Hudson walked into the living room.  The baby wasn’t crying, but it looked absolutely furious.

“Oh really,” Mrs Hudson sighed.  “I didn’t think you could cause any more trouble than you already had.  But there’s one good thing; at least you can’t stop me phoning your brother now.”

The baby began to whimper.