"TWINS?"
John wasn't sure what to say. Sherlock had just come back to Baker Street with the news that they were having twins.
"Yes, John, twins."
"But... we've only decided on one name for each gender!"
"So it's a good thing that it'll be a girl and a boy?"
"Oh."
The big day had come; Sherlock and John were getting their babies. They went to the hospital, thanked the surrogate mother, and went in to see the newborns. John had initially been disappointed when he had learned that he couldn't be the biological father, but none of it mattered when the husbands saw the two pairs of eyes blinking up at them, one the same color as Sherlock's and one a light purple.
"Hamish and Diana," John whispered. Sherlock smiled.
Mrs. Hudson was waiting for them at the door to 221B Baker Street.
"Oh, let me see, let me see!" she said happily. John stepped closer so Mrs. Hudson could get a look at Diana, who was awake and gurgling while Hamish slept in Sherlock's arms. "Sherlock, they look just like you," she whispered.
Sherlock nodded and smiled in a way that clearly meant 'get out of the way, my arms are falling asleep.'
Hamish awoke as Sherlock carried him through the door to their flat. He smiled up at his father. The couple carried the babies into their room, painted a nice sky blue with stuffed animals lining the walls, and laid them down in the double-sized crib. They spent the rest of the day alternating between watching the newborns sleep and cradling them when they were awake.
When night fell and the infants fell asleep, John and Sherlock stayed beside the crib all night, not wanting to leave the new additions to their family.
Soon enough, Hamish and Diana learned to crawl. They would spend hours exploring their room and playing with toys, things that Sherlock had expected to find boring but loved to watch. Often, John or Sherlock would watch them in the sitting room where they would crawl behind the couch, start wrestling and end up tumbling down the stairs, steal Sherlock's scarf, attempt to get the skull on the mantlepiece and put it in their mouths, and basically get into all sorts of trouble.
A few months later, they started pulling themselves into a standing position and trying to balance. One day, as the twins were practicing this, John came home. As he entered, he found himself directly across from them. They shouted a greeting in their baby language, then- and this was the exciting part- they stepped toward him. Hamish made it all three feet and hugged his father's legs; Diana took a few steps and fell over, but pushed herself up, seemingly determined to outdo or at least rival her brother, and took the final step to John. John looked down at them, astonished. "Did you see that?" he asked Sherlock. "Yes," said Sherlock, surprised. "Wait. Move back a few steps so they'll do it again. I need a video." John stepped back, then crouched down and said to the babies, "You're amazing! Good job! Come on, do it again! Can you do it again, Hamish? You can do it, Diana, you can beat him. Yes!" he finished, hugging them when they made it into his outstretched arms. The four of them repeated this exercise multiple times, John and Sherlock alternating being the one who the infants walked to before realising, of course, that they were twins and therefore each parent could take one.
Sherlock was in trouble. He had "withheld evidence" again and Lestrade had brought Anderson and Donovan to Baker Street for another "drugs bust". However, thanks to Sherlock's concern for Diana and Hamish, they were able to work it out quickly. But as the team from Scotland Yard packed up, Sherlock was muttering things like "idiot," "drugs bust," "Anderson," "evidence." He thought he was being quiet, and maybe he was, but when Anderson walked past the two children playing on the ground, Diana looked up at him and said, loud and clear, "Idiot." Everyone stopped and looked at her. She looked around, pleased to have so much attention and glad that everyone had finally realised that she was clearly far more important than whatever they were doing. And just to prove it, she repeated, "Idiot. Idiot! Idiot idiot idiot idiot!" The adults, of course, were surprised because not only was it her first word, she pronounced it perfectly. Hamish, feeling left out, tugged Diana's arm. She turned to him. "Idiot," she said slowly, so he could learn it. "Idit," he said, his tiny face scrunched up. "Idjit... idyit... idyot... idiot. Idiot!" he exclaimed, happy to be included now in the adults' praise. "Idiot!" So Lestrade's team left, and Hamish and Diana stayed there for an hour with their proud parents, doing a little dance all around the flat and singing "Idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot!"
A/N: I really like writing these parentlock stories, and I do like having the two kids so I can show two different personalities growing up in Baker Street.
My next parentlock fic is probably going to be one where John's dead, sad I know but I want to try some feels.
please please please please review! *hedgehog eyes* DO IT FOR JAWNHOG AND SHERLOTTER