Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I'm Lexi, this is my first intense multi-chapter Sherlock fanficiton. I'm very excited to see the reaction I get from everyone! I promise that this fanfiction will not get very sexual it will stay at T. I also promise that JOHNLOCK will get together before the fanfiction is over. They just aren't together in the beginning. It's all part of the fun. Also, I'm not a professional so there will be some errors. Well anyway… Happy reading Sherlockians.
"I know I've said this a lot before, but now people are really going to talk…" the army doctor whispered in Sherlock's ear as they made their way to a crime scene through the paparazzi. The consulting detective replied, "What? About this?" He pointed down at the stroller he was pushing and shouted, "NO NEED TO BE ALARMED, she's asleep! We've already decided that she won't be allowed to see any dead bodies until she's at least 5."
"Sherlock," John muttered, an angry look on his face, "That's not what I meant. And I told you she's not going to be seeing any dead bodies while she's still a child." The cameras flashed and they continued toward the sight of the crime.
A baby? John thought, but Sherlock himself acts like a baby. He is always bored and stubborn. Why would he want to take care of a baby? Plus, we don't have time for a child. Sherlock has new cases coming in on a regular basis now. And if we are raising a baby together, people will definitely think we're gay…
The doctor had expressed his thoughts to his flatmate many times, but Sherlock refused to listen. As usual, he'd become set on an idea and no one was stopping him. He was lying on the sofa with John's laptop on his chest, clicking through listings of potential mothers. Occasionally he would give a comment like, "Too stupid, too bland, and too boring!" Then he'd continue on and a few minutes later with wide eyes he'd say, "She's got potential, very pretty…" But then he'd decide she wasn't good enough and keep on scrolling.
This calmed John down a bit, because if it took Sherlock this long to find a decent mother, maybe he'd give up on the idea all together. Of course, Sherlock did not give up. His logic was simple and he'd repeated it many times before, to anyone who would listen. He'd say over and over, "You see, it's just logical that I reproduce. I am very intelligent, and it would be a waste not to carry on a pedigree like mine! It's a service to my country! When I'm gone, Scotland Yard will need another consulting detective."
John rolled his eyes each time his friend repeated these stupid explanations, because he knew deep down Sherlock wanted a baby for completely different reasons. John had seen the way he admired parents and their children. The consulting detective wanted the kind of happiness he saw in those kin, the kind of love and undying family affection that glued them together. Something Sherlock's family had lacked in his childhood.
One sunny afternoon the flatmates were carrying on the routine that had recently become habit. Sherlock was violently clicking the down arrow on John's laptop, frustrated. John was reading the paper like he always did, but then something out of the ordinary happened.
Sherlock spoke up, "Well John, that's it, there is no woman in all of Great Britain worthy of bearing my child." He sighed, and slammed the laptop shut.
John should have been rejoicing, it was finally over, Sherlock would move on from this silly notion that he should be a father, but he wasn't rejoicing. In fact, he felt a pressure deep within his chest, a kind of violent sadness. He knew how much this meant to Sherlock, and at some point it had begun to mean something to him, too.
John, now sure of his decision to help his friend, asked, "Well were any of the ones you've looked at so far… maybe not perfect… but close to perfect? The baby's genetics won't be entirely hers…"
The two spent the entire afternoon searching through the mothers that Sherlock had liked before, but had cast off as "imperfect". It was evening when they'd narrowed his choices down to three. Three potential mothers, all very smart and very beautiful, but Sherlock still didn't think a single one of them was perfect.
He took a deep breath and looked John in the eyes. Then he said, "John, pick."
John was taken aback. He replied, "But Sherlock… this is going to be your kid, it's not my place to make this decision for you."
The detective trusted John more than anyone so he admitted, "I will never be satisfied with anyone, I'm seeking perfection… when in reality no human can be perfect. I need you to pick, please."
So John picked.