For Reasons Unknown

Author Notes: This short story is based on the show, but I'm currently reading the books, so I apologize if I accidentally mix up any facts. Also another apology if spelling and/or grammar is not perfect, because nothing really is.

John/Sherlock, please no hate! Constructive criticism always welcome!

Chapter One

The cool autumn breeze pressed heavily onto the window pane and brought wet, golden leaves about with it to stick to the glass. The wails of the small child, woken by the clapping thunder of the storm that was just beginning to pass, could be heard from practically a thousand miles away, or at least so it seemed. Mary and I had been desperately trying to get her to calm down any way possible. We tried feeding her, playing with her, rocking her softly, Mary tried singing to her, hell, and I even tried singing to her! It seemed that this month old baby was going to be crying the rest of her life.

A knock on the door startled me back into reality, and the baby screamed even louder now. I rose quickly out of my seat and jogged to the door.

I opened it up, not sure completely whom to expect to see, but was very surprised and delighted to have been greeted by my favorite consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes!

"Good God, John, what is that awful sound? Surely it's not coming from inside your home?" I stared at him, incredulously. "I'm only joking, obviously. Of course it's from inside your nursery. Which reminds me, why didn't you notify me of the birth of your child?"

I was so in shock it took me a moment to process his question. "Are you kidding, Sherlock?"

"No, in fact, that was no joke. I was being completely serious."

I flicked him on the chest. "That was your own fault, you fool, and you bloody know it! Where have you been the past two months?"

I detected a slight smile as it graced his lips. "Why, John Watson, did you miss me?"

I couldn't help it. I broke out laughing, as well as Sherlock. We hugged, and I ushered him in. "Don't think you're getting away that easily, Sherlock. You must tell me where you've been, but that can wait for later."

"Yes, it must," he agreed. "But for now, do let me see the baby." I nodded my head, and led him into the baby's room. I knocked quietly, so as not to disturb the little girl, who was now beginning to cheer up.

Mary looked up, and grinned. "Why, long time, no see!" She exclaimed.

"Can I hold her?" Sherlock pointed to the baby.

"Well, yeah, sure. Just be careful, please. Make sure to hold her head-"

"I'm perfectly aware of the correct way in which to hold an infant, Mary, thank you."

Sherlock gently took my child from my wife's hands, and sat down on the floor, with his legs crossed. Mary and I watched as he let our daughter grab his finger and hold on tightly. She had completely stopped crying now, and her mouth was open wide, almost in a smile. "Her name is?" Sherlock asked.

"Jerry," I responded.

He looked at me curiously. "And you were worried about Sherlock not being a girl's name?"

I was about to respond, but Mary began to talk before I could. "Didn't John tell you? Her middle name is Sherlock."

John shot a puzzled glance at me, and quickly looked away. My face quickly got red.

Mary giggled. "Jerry Sherlock Watson. With a name like that, I guess she must be destined for greatness!"

Sherlock nodded and kissed the child's hand in a surprisingly fond manner. I had known Sherlock for quite some time now, but I believed this to be the first time I had ever seen him with a baby, but he was very gentle, and had a happy grin on his face. I couldn't help but smile as well. The scene was a very charming one, indeed.

After a few moments of a blissful (mostly) silence, Sherlock handed the baby back to Mary. "She's very cute," he tells her, and then he leans in closely to her, "I know she didn't get that from John."

I decided it best to completely disregard that last statement. "So, Sherlock, how about dinner tonight? Would you like to stay?"

"Well, as long as you're not cooking I don't see why I shouldn't." He flashed a quick, brilliantly terrifying smile my way. "Afterwards," he continued, "Would it be alright, Mary, if John came back with me to Baker Street for a few hours? I have a visitor showing up that does seem quite peculiar, I'm sure John would love to see my work in action once more."

Mary nodded her head. "Just you too don't have too much fun, alright? That hardly seems fair."

And so it was. After the baby was fed, burped and cleaned up Mary and I were able to get her to sleep, and despite Sherlock's objections, we made dinner a joint effort.

Mary was recently on a health kick, so our meal consisted of a large salad, and she insisted on only keeping oil-based dressings in the house. I had cooked a (healthy) veggie spaghetti, and wheat bread was served. Although I didn't exactly enjoy the meal, neither my wife nor my friend seemed in anyway displeased.

I quickly helped to clean up after dinner so as to not upset my wife. Sherlock had walked to my home, but as it was nighttime I called a cab, and we left the home quickly. The drive there was basically silent, but as we were ascending the stairs I tried to make conversation.

"So, what story have you heard from this newest client?"

Sherlock completely ignored the question and responded quickly with an inquiry of his own.

"Why did you name your daughter after me?"

My face once again began to blush, and I was glad Sherlock could not see my face. "I… you asked me to! You were very insistent that you at least got in a middle name!"

"Dear Watson, I know you know I was just joking about that matter. Not to say I'm not flattered, I really am, I just can't quite figure out your motive about the matter."

"Ha!" I say. "You've been around me how long? You must know my every thought by now!" As I said this, I could not conceal from myself the truth of that statement, and a slight dread ran through me. But, at the same time, I considered how much simpler everything could be if Sherlock was a mind reader.

He we reached the top of the stairs, and Sherlock turned around suddenly. "You're blushing! Why are you blushing?" I gulped. Sherlock had stopped so suddenly I had no time to back up, and ran a risk of falling backward. My eyes were about level with Sherlock's lips, and the tension had suddenly gotten very strong. For whatever reason, I couldn't take my eyes off of those lips. They were thinner than Mary's, but naturally pinker. I tried to control my thoughts, but in the very back of my head… No. Nevermind.

One second, two, three, four… Finally, Sherlock seemed to feel the sudden strangeness and backed away.

"I'm sorry for that," he confessed, with a hint of uneasiness in his voice. He grabbed into his pocket and found his key. His hands almost seemed shaky as he twisted the key and opened the door.

The time between this and the arrival of the potential client ran quite quiet and awkwardly. I must note that I did not miss the constant smell of strange chemicals. Sherlock began clinking test tubes together almost immediately after letting us in, humming softly the entire time. I didn't do much, but I was sure to do a quick scan of the house to ensure there were no drugs nearby. I was aware that Molly had previously been forcing Sherlock to monthly take drug tests, but he had been missing the past two months, and with Mr. Holmes, one could never be too careful.

I found one syringe in the bathroom, but I felt no immediate reason to be alarmed, as Sherlock's peculiar pastimes could sometimes involve syringes for less destructive reasons.

It had seemed to me like an eternity before I had finally heard a slight tapping on the door. Sherlock was too focused on his work too even look up, so I got the door for him. The man at the door was far from what I had expected to see, although I admit I had little to nothing to go on. He was young, possibly early twenties, and he was incredibly… large, and not the most hygienic. He appeared to be the stereotypical college gamer with no social skills and questionable porn habits. Nonetheless, I motioned for him to step inside, and got Sherlock's attention.

"Um, Sherlock," I said, tapping him on the shoulder. "Is this actually the guy we're waiting for? He looks… surprisingly ordinary to me."

Sherlock set his chemicals down and looked to me. "He's a hacker," he explained quickly. Then, turning toward our newest client, "Sit down in the chair."

And so, Sherlock did what he did best, with me by his side. Within two days, the case was closed, and no one was harmed.

Sherlock began stopping in at my place more often than usual. Sometimes with a new case, sometimes with a severe and life-threatening case of boredom. He was lucky that Mary was such a kind wife. Having Sherlock around was almost like adopting a second child. If he wasn't watched closely, he was bound to get into trouble. Sherlock would be making phone calls to drug dealers one moment, and the next he'd be stealing human fingers and limbs from god knows where, and wanting them stored in my home!

Despite all this, life was seemingly great. Jerry was growing quickly, and Sherlock was surprisingly fond of her. Of course 3 month old babies can't really do much, but Sherlock still enjoyed playing with her and her stuffed animals. I had a strange feeling that he was using her as a means of study, but he wasn't harming her in any way, and he gave Mary and I some much needed break time.

Okay, thoughts? I'm thinking of maybe having this story be four chapters long, and did you notice the awkward little fluffy part? Expect more, and then I promise it'll eventually be followed up by romancey romance stuff and then maybe a citrusy scence as well.

Do NOT expect quick updates.