John didn't even stop to text and ask Sherlock. He didn't care what the consulting detective thought. They had a new baby and they needed a camera. And so John entered the shop on a whim, ready to fight tooth and nail for the right to photograph Hamish with his Father. He'd be grown up too quickly, anyways.

At 221b, Sherlock stood holding the newborn Hamish. He hadn't been sure about John leaving him alone with their child while he went to a shift at the surgery, but John had been adamant that they needed the time together and that all would be well.

And it had been. Somehow Sherlock had known exactly what Hamish needed when he needed it. Maybe it was because he was used to deducing what people tried to hide and Hamish was too young to try to hide. Maybe it was the fact that Hamish was half John and things with John always seemed to come more naturally. Whatever the reason, Sherlock had come to the conclusion that John, as loved and needed as he was, could definitely keep his job. Sherlock-Hamish days would be a perfect reset for his racing mind.

Sherlock happened to glance at the clock as he sat to rock with his son. John was slightly late.

"Maybe he finally realised that he'd want to document your life, little one," Sherlock whispered, pressing a kiss to the soft hair that was almost invisible on Hamish's head. "Get ready for lots of pictures." And so father and son rocked, waiting for John to get home, both minds at peace.

Ten minutes later John, having finally decided on a camera, walked quietly up the stairs to their flat. If asked he would've said he was quiet because he didn't want to disturb Hamish if he was asleep, but really, he just wanted a better chance of getting a candid shot of his two loves. Making sure that the new gadget was on, he silently stepped into the sitting room.

There in the newly added rocking chair was Sherlock, humming almost silently to a sleeping Hamish curled up against his chest.

Raising the camera, John snapped a quick picture. What he forgot to check was whether the shutter sound was off.

Sherlock looked up, a smirk playing around his eyes and lips. John, giving up on the whole secret picture thing, took another snapshot.

"Finally realised you want something better than phone pictures, did you?" Sherlock asked. He grinned as John thought.

"Have you been taking pictures?"

"The whole time. I figured one of us should." Sherlock, with a grace that John envied, extricated his phone from his pocket and tossed it to John. Hamish didn't even wiggle.

John opened the pictures and smiled. "I love bloody you."

A/N: Super short, I know. But up on a Sunday! :)

I just started writing a new fic called Rachel, but I plan on still posting Hamish things as well.

Much love!