Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Sherlock.

Notes: After reading a fan fiction -the name I cannot remember- I could not get this idea out of my head so I decided to write it down. Your reviews would be welcomed.

Warnings: Fluff and Johnlock. Prepare for the cheesiness.


The All-Seeing Eyes

The street lamps burned bright illuminating the streets bellow. A fire crackled setting an orange flow around the messy flat, shadows flickered on the walls. Sherlock Holmes sat at a table cutting an eye that Molly had managed to savage him, picking up a scalpel he cut the optical nerve. He placed the eyes on a glass dish and placed them in the fridge, he yawned into his elbow as he washed his hands. Whilst drying them he noticed a small figure out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face the small boy.

"Daddy, what are you doing?" The curly haired boy asked rubbing his eyes. To look at the boy you would know immediately that it was Sherlock's son. Every feature was his, apart from his hair colour a sandy colour and his eyes. They were John's.

After many hours in the lab mostly on Sherlock's part and with the help of a surrogate mother -Harry insisted that it be she considering that she had been sober for three years-. It only took nine months for their son to be born, but to them it felt like a lifetime.

"An experiment." Sherlock said walking towards his son.

"Can I help?" He asked excitedly. Sherlock looked anxiously at the clock one o'clock in the morning. John would not be happy.

"Alright," Sherlock smiled. "But don't tell your father."

The boy smiled and pretended to lock his lips and give his father the key. They stayed up all night discussing the different areas of the human eye; originally, Sherlock's experiment was to see the affects of an eye in different temperatures. However, he was more than happy to spare his experiment in order to teach his son.

"Look Daddy, I'm just like you!" Sherlock looked over at his son who was wearing a pair of rubber gloves that was to big on his small hands and a pair of goggles covering his eyes.

"Indeed you are." Sherlock smiled.

II

The embers of the fire had slowly died out, morning sun flooded the room. John stood idly in the doorway smiling, a cup of tea in his hands as he looked at the image. Sherlock sitting on the couch his head back, eyes closed mouth opened, his arm around a small boy who was curled into his side.

"…My boys." John muttered taking a cup of tea knowing he should wake them but not wanting to ruin their peace.