The Baker Street Boys
Summary: Continuing from the ending of S4E3 where John and Sherlock live, work, and raise Rosie together again at 221B. No Romance, just good old fashioned happy fluff drabbles about their lives.
John and Rosie moved in the week after the flat was finished. He had dithered for a while, thinking he'd want to have a separate life, but it just wasn't going to work. They needed each other. Mary had known that. Now, after everything, he knew that too.
Plus, it was cheaper to share the flat and, in all honesty, it was still painful to live in that house. Their house. Sometimes he'd glance in the kitchen, and still see her there, floating on the edges.
So he'd packed it all up, with the help of some eerily efficient men Mycroft had sent to help (Mycroft seemed quite eager for him to move back), looked back at the house one more time, then quietly shut the door on that life and moved back to where it all began.
It was a lot easier to readjust to life at 221B than he'd thought it would be. It was almost too easy to fall into this new life with Sherlock and Rosie, so easy that he'd sometimes feel guilty. But then he'd remember Mary; her videos, her encouragement, her love for them all, and feel sure that it was what she would have wanted. Her Baker Street boys together, caring for each other and Rosie.
Sherlock, for his part, seemed to really be trying. Bless him, he'd tried to babyproof the apartment, putting those ridiculous locks on all the cabinets, hiding his various acids, and getting most of the knives up high. But when John asked him why he had left rotting toes on the table, Sherlock hadn't seemed to understand the problem, cocking his head to the side and looking at him quizzically.
"Well, obviously, John, she won't be able to get up there … Right? I mean the average human child at 8 months of age..."
John just huff-laughed at him while he threw the toes away and Sherlock pouted behind him.
Soon enough Sherlock came to deeply understand that children (especially one as smart and talented as Rosie, if John did say so himself), could and would get everywhere their little hearts desired if not constantly watched and cared for. They needed to be constantly entertained, except when asleep, which didn't happen nearly enough, meaning that they as caregivers didn't get nearly enough sleep either. Surprising everyone, himself included, Sherlock rose to the task. He would talk to her for hours, bouncing her up and down on his hip, or lulling her back to sleep by discussing the various types of tobacco ash. He'd set her down on a blanket in the middle of the living room, playing with the rattle ("I'm not playing, I'm helping to stimulate her hand-eye coordination, John.") while he made deductions or insulted the intelligence of the police force.
Sometimes when working through a case, he'd explain it out to her step by step as he had so many times with her father and when he'd finally make that all important conclusion or connection he'd exclaim;
"Of course Little Watson! Why didn't I think of that? Very astute reasoning Rosie."
He'd wink at her while she laughed and laughed, almost seeming to understand him.
At a certain point, neither John nor Sherlock could imagine any any other way; living with their best friend, solving mysteries, and raising the most delightful, precocious child either of them had met. The Baker Street boys were back, and they were truly happy. For now...
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I wrote this because I needed some happy fluff after Season 4 and I just really wanted to see Sherlock and John trying to raise Rosie at 221B which seemed suggested by the end of the last episode (or at least I like to hope). So it'll be a lot of Daddylock, but no real romance, just happy family time. It'll be drabbles from all kind of different ages and times. I'll update as I have ideas and thoughts, which you're welcome to pitch in with. Thanks again!