The front door slammed followed by the pattering footsteps of a six year old girl ran up the stairs tears streaming down her face. Sherlock abruptly stopped playing the violin in mid tune
"Oh Rosie!" John gasped, seeing his daughters distressed. John embraced her into a tight hug and rubbed circles into her back. "What happened?"
Sherlock slowly crossed the room and laid a hand on Rosie's shoulder
"They're just uncomfortable with your intellect, Rosie," Sherlock said kindly. John looked up at Sherlock
"But… they h-hate me so much," Rosie sobbed "they call me things I don't even know what they mean!" John held his daughter even tighter in his embrace, calming her
"What do they call me?" He asked. Rosie didn't answer right away, choosing to bury her face into her father's shoulder, hiding her tears. Eventually Rosie calmed enough to say
"They called me gay," she sniffed "but I don't even know what is!" Sherlock beat John in replying
"Being gay isn't a bad thing, Rosie. Those bullies probably don't know what that word means either. Being gay is when you can love someone who is the same gender as you and love is the most important thing in this world, Rosie. Am I right?" Rosie nodded wiping her face as John loosened his grip on her as her also turned to look at Sherlock. "When someone calls you gay, use it as a reminder that you are capable of love and you are above them and they are inferior to your intellect-" John cleared his throat "use it as a reminder that nobody is inferior to anyone because everyone is equal, although some have higher standards than others, and you should never lower your standards for anyone regardless," John sent him a glare "unless of course your father is involved," Rosie giggled at her uncle's words
"Charming," John muttered
"Thank you uncle Sherlock," Rosie said brightly, hugging him around the middle. Sherlock awkwardly patted her twice on the head. John smiled at the pair of them.
"Uncle Sherlock," Rosie began slowly
"Yes?"
"Are you gay?" John looked up quickly at his flatmate. It was a perfectly innocent question. In all the time that John had known Sherlock; his sexuality was something that had remained something completely unknown. It sometimes even seemed that Sherlock was above something as human as having sexuality. Sherlock smiled down at Rosie was staring questioningly up at him with her large round eyes and long eyelashes.
"I am," he replied simply. John was momentarily flabbergasted. Sherlock Holmes was –
"I'm glad my dad found you so you can love him then," said Rosie grinning mischievously "I'm going to keep Mrs Hudson company for a bit, see you then!," she quickly disappeared back out of the room leaving John and Sherlock standing awkwardly in the living room staring after her. The seconds ticked by, the silence becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. Eventually John cleared his throat before glancing up at Sherlock before quickly looking away, the tops of his ears growing red
"Er… tea?" John stuttered
"Yes. Tea would be good," John quickly hurried from the kitchen, glad for the distraction. He took his time in making it; the shape of the handle on the mug had never been more fascinating… John eventually entered back into the living room to find Sherlock slouched across the sofa with his feet dangling off the arm rests gently plucking the strings of the violin. John leaned against the door frame taking in the sight
"Rosie doesn't really get bullied, does she?" John asked. Sherlock closed his eyes dramatically
"Whatever gave you that idea?" John smirked before setting the tea down moving closer towards Sherlock
"All of her classmates are terrified of her Uncle Sherlock," Sherlock smirked before gazing back at John, the awkwardness returning.
"John about what Rosie said about me feeling-"
"Sherlock, really it's all fine," John interrupted "I don't care that you're gay. And yeah I love you too, man. You're like a brother to me," John cuffed Sherlock on the shoulder "I'll see you in the morning then," John headed back to his room breathing a sigh of relief. Trust Sherlock to organise a whole scenario involving his daughter to inform John that he was actually human and had genuine human feeling and emotions. It was just a regular day at 221B Baker Street.
Back in the living room, Sherlock stared at Johns closed door feeling a wave of rejection. The words I love you never leaving his lips, two forgotten cups of tea cooling to room temperature. He blinked, an emotionless mask slipping into place, repressing his human emotions.
Downstairs, Mrs Hudson and Rosie sat at a table with biscuits, clinked glasses of mink together in the hope that their plan to get Sherlock and John to look past their stubbornness and realise their love for one another.
A small tear manages to leak out of the corner of Sherlock's mask before he quickly wiped it away. Soldiers today…