I've read so many kid!lock/parent!lock stories, and I wanted to try my own. I've had half of this written for quite some time, but I just finished it tonight. I don't own BBC Sherlock, or any of it's characters. Enjoy!


"John?" Sherlock leans over the sleeping blonde child curled up against John's thigh to whisper into his flatmate's ear, keeping a trained eye on the dark-haired toddler sitting in the chair opposite of them; the child is focused on his toes, rolling back onto his back and sticking them into his mouth with a squeal. "What do you think we should do?"

John frowns. "I don't know, Sherlock!" He swipes a hand through his hair wearily, absently mussing it up. "Just talk to him, I suppose. After all, he's just a baby." Sherlock arches an eyebrow, but otherwise leans back into the couch with a disgruntled sigh. John turns away to look on the baby, who is busy trying to sit himself back up, all interest in his toes gone. John glances down at the one curled up against his thigh and half smiles.

"Er... Hullo," Sherlock forces a smile on his face, and the baby stops struggling and looks up. He gives Sherlock an are you kidding me? face, and Sherlock mumbles something about hating kids under his breath. John nudges him with his elbow, because the baby is now glaring - or glaring as well as a toddler can - at his flatmate.

"Let me handle this, Sherlock." John sighs out, shifting forward into his seat. The baby turns to look at him, curiosity dancing in his big brown eyes, and John has to stifle a grin at how cute he is... especially considering who he actually is.

"Do you know who we are?" John's smile is obviously genuine, Sherlock notes with mild distaste, and he gestures towards himself and his friend. The little boy looks up again with big, big brown eyes and chubby little cheeks. The beginnings of a frown are on his face, then it clears, and he smiles.

"Yeth."

John can't stop the giggle from bubbling out of his throat. "Sherlock! Listen, he's got a lisp!" Sherlock's eyebrow raises, and he has to bite back a sarcastic remark at how much better John's deductive skills are increasing. A smirk twitches on his lips.

"My name is John," the doctor says, and the toddler looks up from his feet happily. "And this is Sherlock..." The baby seems to take in this knowledge, and blows a raspberry with his puffy pink lips.

"John," the baby repeats. "And Therlock?" John giggles again, and Sherlock frowns and rolls his eyes.

"That's right," he says, and the baby smiles happily back; obviously pleased with himself. "Do you know who you are?" John pushes himself up off the couch and walks over to the child. The infant looks up, a frown decorating his face. He places his chubby hand on his face, and John nods in encouragement.

"Baby!" He squeals, and John suppresses a sigh. Sherlock, however, groans in irritation.

"Why doesn't he know his name, John?" He scoffs, getting up to go stand next to the older man. Their shadows cover the chair, and the child looks up at both of them. "He's-"

"Sherlock, he's just a baby! It's not like he remembers anything!" John bends down to get eye-level with him, and the child eyeballs him interestedly. "Yes, you're right, but do you know your name?"

The baby smiles, and John can't help but wonder how a BABY can look so devious, but he doesn't say anything. Sherlock simply rolls his eyes.

"Told you. Now what are we going to do with it?" Sherlock goes to sit back down in his seat, and John follows, gently lowering himself down next to the sleeping infant.

"It's not an 'it!' He's a human infant! I don't understand why you can't grasp this!" John sighs. "We can't turn them in, though. Do you know how hard it'd be to explain who these two actually are?"

"Why not?" John opens his mouth to retort, but instead settles for ignoring the detective. The blonde baby beside him starts to stir, and Sherlock immediately leans back in distaste, his nose wrinkled up. John's eyes widen, and the other toddler looks on happily.

The blonde blinks blearily, and he uses John's leg to pull himself up. He blinks up at John, who smiles gently back. The dark-haired child squeals and claps his hands, and he starts wriggling towards the end of the chair. Frowning a bit, he rolls over onto his stomach and dangles his feet towards the ground. He grips the striped fabric of the chair and lets out a little wail when his feet don't reach the ground.

John sighs but gently lifts the blonde baby off his lap and plunks him down in Sherlock's. He stands up, takes the two steps to get to the toddler. He scoops the toddler up in his arms, and the baby squeals, flailing out his arms and hitting John in the nose. Meanwhile, Sherlock is panicking, stiffening as soon as the blonde baby turns his bright blue eyes towards him.

The baby scowls, narrowing his eyes and glaring at the adult. He looks vaguely menacing, and Sherlock wonders what actual damage a baby could do. "John, he's staring at me." Sherlock says, wrinkling up his nose at the child, and the scowl deepens.

"Sherlock, he's just a baby. He probably's just curious as to who you are." John is busy rubbing his aching nose, and the dark haired toddler giggles gleefully.

"John, take it. I don't want it." Sherlock gestures wildly to the glaring child, and John mutters something under his breath. However, he shifts his toddler onto one of his hips and reaches out for the other one, but the dark haired baby babbles something and grabs at his shirt, restricting his access.

"Sherlock, I can't take them both!" John says firmly. He flattens out his mouth, and in the flash of an instant, swoops down, switches the blonde child for the brunette one and plops down in his chair. Sherlock utters a cry of protest, and the dark haired baby sneers and uses his shoulder to pull himself up. John coos something at the blonde baby, who immediately frowns but remains docile in his arms. The dark haired baby lifts up a foot and places it on Sherlock's neck, effectively cutting off his air supply for the brief moment it takes him to hang over Sherlock's bony shoulders.

A loud knock rings throughout 221B, and John utters a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God." Without bothering for an answer, the man knocking steps in, frowning and rubbing his eyes. John stands up, propping the blonde up on his hip, and Sherlock stands up swiftly after him. The brunette baby is crawling over Sherlock's shoulders, giggling and kicking Sherlock in the face every time he moves.

"Okay," Detective Inspector Lestrade sighs. "What was so bloody important that I had to leave the robbery case early?" Sherlock snorted softly, wondering how incredibly stupid Lestrade's team must be for them not to have figured out that case already. Really, it was exceedingly simple as soon as-

"Greg, we have a little problem on our hands," John interrupts, rubbing a hand through his grey-blonde hair. The detective inspector raises an eyebrow, and John proceeds to try and explain.

John uses one hand to gesture at the frowning blonde baby propped up on his hip, and Sherlock steps up and reaches behind his head, wrapping two hands around the smirking toddler and holding him as far away as he can from himself.

John gives Sherlock a weary look, but the consulting detective just smirks slightly. John uses a hand to wave towards the dark haired baby, then the blonde in his own arms.

"Meet Consulting Criminal James Moriarty and Colonel Sebastian Moran."


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