Sherlock and John lead very busy lives. Just when they thought they would get a break after solving a case, another one would come up right away, more exciting than the last. Sherlock never showed signs of fatigue or exhaustion. In fact, taking on another case was like an adrenaline rush for him, whereas John had to practically pinch himself to keep from falling asleep. Despite his urge to back out of cases and let Sherlock deal with the whole thing himself, which pretty much happened all the time anyways, John always pulled himself together. He never understood why he let himself be pulled further into the depths of Sherlock's obsession.

It was a cold November morning, and just as expected, another call from Lestrade requesting Sherlock's help in a new case. Sherlock could hardly contain himself.

"The game is on, John!" yelled Sherlock as he put on his scarf and coat.

John yawned. "It's been on for the last several months, Sherlock. How is it you can just keep on going and not be tired? You really haven't slept very much lately. I'm worried".

"I'll have plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead".

"If you keep this up, that may not be too far off".

"Relax John. I'm fine. Alright then, let's go see Lestrade. It's a triple homicide!".

The doctor sighed heavily. "I'm not going", he said quietly.

"I'm sorry, what?" asked Sherlock confused.

"I'm. Not. Going", John said through gritted teeth.

To John's surprise, Sherlock did not argue. He simply replied with, "Suit yourself" and then left the flat. John breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that his flatmate would be gone for most of the day and he had the entire flat to himself. Mrs. Hudson was on holiday, so there would be no interruptions. John knew exactly what his day was going to entail, which was a day of much needed sleep. John had slept for about two hours when he awoke to the sound of a knock on the door downstairs. He figured it was someone here to see Sherlock and that if no one answered the door they would leave. Unfortunately, the knocking continued. John groaned and got up out of bed still half asleep and made his way to the door. When he opened it, he saw a sight he never imagined. There in front of him on the doorstep lay a basket with a sleeping baby inside as well as a nappy bag. John was at a loss for words, unable to comprehend what was going on. Just as he knelt down to get a better look, there was another knocking sound.

"What the hell?" asked John confusingly, knowing that it was obviously not the baby doing that. He then noticed a small recorder taped to the front door with a repeating knocking sound. John sighed annoyingly.

"Jesus Christ", was all he could say. He then thought to himself for a moment and then let out a laugh and stood up. He knew this was a joke.

"Alright, you got me! You can come out now!" he yelled. No one appeared. "You can come and get your baby, whoever you are! You do realize it's nearly freezing and this child can't stay out here!"

John was starting to worry. He looked down at the baby who was beginning to stir, probably from all the yelling that John was doing. Perhaps this wasn't a joke after all. John scratched the back of his head nervously then looked down at the baby who was looking up at him and smiling.

"Right then, best get you out of this cold", he said as he bent down and picked up the basket and nappy bag and headed inside. He got upstairs and placed the basket on the kitchen table and the bag on the floor. The baby remained silent and did nothing except stare at John with her big blue eyes. All wrapped in pink blankets, it was no doubt that the baby was female. John couldn't help but smile at the tiny infant. He thought he should probably check the baby to make sure she was healthy. As he unwrapped the blankets, there was a small envelope tucked inside. John breathed a small sigh of relief, for he would now have some idea of who this child was and possibly belonged to. He opened the envelope and read the note slowly.

Sherlock Holmes,

You probably don't remember me. I'll get to the point; we met over a year ago at a pub in central London and we got drunk and had sex in the men's loo. My God what was I thinking? Anyways, the result of that night is now your responsibility. Her name is Eden and she is five months old. I cannot take care of her anymore as she takes up too much of my time. My work is my life and I have no time for children. I know your job requires a lot out of you, but surely you can find some way to include a baby. Eden is an excellent baby and will be no trouble at all I hope. Please take care of her. I've included the birth certificate and a nappy bag with a few nappies, wipes, a bottle, some formula, and a couple of onesies.

- Danielle

John had to sit down as. He couldn't believe what he had just read. There were so many aspects of that note that did not make sense to him. John read the birth certificate, which did indeed have Sherlock's name written beside 'Name of Father'. John looked down at the baby and whispered to her, "Your daddy is not going to like this at all", he said to her. Saying the word 'daddy' and referring that to Sherlock made John giggle. John had thought of texting Sherlock telling him there was an urgent matter at home, but figured it would be best to wait for him to come home so he could tell him, or better yet show him in person.

Just as the note had explained, Eden was a very good baby for the majority of the morning and afternoon, except when she fussed in hunger and needed a nappy change. John had not much experience with babies but was quite good and feeding and nappy changing, despite never having done either before. He even managed to get her to sleep in the afternoon. He decided to take a nap as well, for it was going to be a pretty eventful evening once Sherlock returned.