So this is another thing obsessedwithstabler and I wrote a while ago. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Sherlock doesn't belong to us.

Sherlock Holmes found that he rather enjoyed the company of children. They were bluntly honest and far more open minded than adults. He didn't particularly want children of his own, which was something that he and his husband couldn't seem to agree on. Sherlock attributed it to the fact that infants cried and needed constant attention, which he considered too much work.

A peculiar sound caught his ears, waking him from his comfortable slumber. Growling, he burrowed under the covers.

The sound came again, this time having a more irritable quality to it.

Sherlock groaned and padded sleepily out of the bedroom, scowling. When he found John in the living room with a baby in his arms, he frowned. "Where did you find that?"

John snorted. "I would think you'd recognize your own niece, Sher."

"I mean why is she here in our flat, at this hour?" Sherlock did not dislike his niece. He was actually somewhat fond of her, but very young infants were not his favorite age group, and it was still fairly early in the morning.

"We're taking care of Sophia today," he reminded his husband. "We planned this weeks ago."

"I must have been in my mind palace when you mentioned it to me. I do not recall such a conversation," Sherlock insisted. It was very likely that they had discussed it, but he could not remember making plans to babysit.

"Well, too bad." John adjusted the infant in his arms and rocked her. "We have her all day."

"I may have to create a substitute plan."

"Not happening. No cases, no murders, no international mysteries. Just us and Soph."

Sherlock sighed. "And I can't get out of it?"

"No."

The younger man pouted and flopped heavily on the couch. "I refuse to change her if she soils herself."

"She's a baby, love. Babies soil themselves."

"Which is one of the reasons why I don't want one. They require too much attention."

"They need the most attention in their first year of life. Then they become more independent."

"Hmm." Sherlock continued to warily eye the tiny baby in John's arms.

Ignoring his husband's annoyed look, John danced around the living room with the infant, humming softly to her.

"You look foolish."

"I don't care. She likes it."

"If you think so." Sherlock shrugged and moved off of the couch and perched on his beloved armchair.

"She does! Look." John made his way over to the chair and leaned down so Sherlock could see the dozing baby.

"She just looks drowsy."

"Because she's comfortable and happy."

"I suppose."

Smiling wickedly, John suddenly deposited the drowsy infant into Sherlock's arms.

"Why are you giving her to me?" Sherlock stared blankly at the baby.

"Because she's your niece and you need to bond with her."

"She's five months old. I'll bond with her when she's old enough to remember it."

John sighed his exasperation. "Sher, she's forming memories now. She's learning to trust and depend on her family and those who take care of her."

"Fine." Sherlock shifted the sleepy infant in his arms.

Sophia shifted and snuffled unhappily.

"She doesn't seem fond of me."

"She's fine, love. Let her settle."

A few moments later, Sophia turned her head and snuggled into the soft material of Sherlock's shirt.

"She's doing a thing." Sherlock frowned.

"Sherlock, calm down. She's going to sleep."

"Oh." Sherlock relaxed. "That's a bit boring."

"Would you prefer screaming?"

"I imagine I wouldn't prefer that.

"Neither would I." John bent over and kissed his husband properly. "Would you like something to eat?"

"I ate dinner last night. I don't want to cause imbalances in my schedule."

"Sher, you're so thin. Come on," he coaxed. "I'll make chocolate chip pancakes."

"That does sound good."

Enthused, John kissed his husband again and went into the kitchen to start breakfast.

Alone with his niece, Sherlock looked down at the seemingly content infant in his arms, who was yawning and curling her tiny fingers into fists.

He stood up and carefully laid Sophia in the portable crib that was set up near the couch.

Immediately Sophia let out a mewling cry, announcing her displeasure.

"What do you want?" Sherlock groaned.

"Sher, is she okay?" John called from the kitchen.

"I don't know. I put her in the crib and now she's fussing."

"Oh. Myc says she doesn't like her crib."

"Why are you abbreviating his name? Secondly, I can not hold her all day. My arms will get tired." Sherlock walked away from the crib.

The baby continued to howl unhappily as Sherlock joined John in the kitchen. John huffed at the tiny girl's wailing.

Sherlock shrugged. "She'll settle down. Or I assume she will."

"Sherlock," John said exasperatedly, "Go get her."

"That will spoil her."

Growling, John put the bowl of batter down and went to retrieve Sophia from captivity.

"She's still fussing. If she needs to be changed, you can handle it."

John returned to the kitchen with Sophia strapped to his chest in a strange harness Sherlock couldn't quite understand. The baby was quiet and observing her surroundings.

"That looks... unusual," Sherlock noted as he sat down.

"It's for mothers who need free hands," John explained as he resumed tending to the batter.

"You aren't a mother, obviously, but I see how it could be useful. I wouldn't consider wearing it, though."

"Why not? You would have two free hands and one happy baby."

"You could also have those by leaving the baby with a pacifier in a crib."

John rolled his eyes. "Maybe I should put a pacifier in your mouth," he groused.

"Absolutely not."

"Then hush."

"Fine," Sherlock grumbled as he prepared a mug of coffee.

In peaceful quiet, John prepared Sherlock's favored chocolate chip pancakes, as well as a bowl of fresh strawberries and tea. He filled two plates and brought them to the table. "Breakfast is ready."

"Very good." Sherlock picked up a fork and started to eat.

John ate more slowly, alternating between his food and tending the baby cradled against his chest.

"She's calmed down," Sherlock commented, studying Sophia.

"She's a calm baby. Very sweet," John murmured. "She enjoys being here because it's warm and she can feel my heart."

"That's somewhat overly sentimental, but I guess it makes sense."

"It's not sentiment. Think about it. It's biology. She's warm and the heartbeat is soothing."

"Hmm. That sounds fairly natural."

"Yes. Babies attach to those who keep them warm and safe. If you spend time holding her and speaking to her, her attachment to you will grow."

"Interesting." Sherlock resumed drinking his tea.

"It's very interesting. She can't really understand words yet, so you could say anything to her as long as you say it in a calm, soothing voice."

"I could speak about crime scenes and experiments, permitting that I talk softly instead of very quickly."

"Yes, I suppose you could."

"That could be helpful when you're unavailable to bounce ideas off of." Sherlock emptied his dishes into the sink.

"I suppose it would be more helpful than your skull."

"I don't know about that."

Sherlock came back to the table to kiss John and the older man happily returned the gesture. He played with Sherlock's hair before releasing the younger man. "Love you."

"And I love you."

Sophia let out a squeal and started to squirm.

John laughed and wrapped his arms around their niece and shushed her.

"If I'm no longer required in here, I'm going back to the living room," Sherlock informed.

"You aren't required but you are wanted."

"Very well, then." Sherlock remained where he stood.

John stood up and kissed Sherlock again. "I'll get her to sleep and then you and I can spend some time together," he murmured, one brow raised suggestively.

"Oh, yes. Do that." Sherlock smirked.

Returning Sherlock's smirk, John wandered into the living room to lull the baby into a nap.

Sherlock waited impatiently, watching as John settled Sophia in her crib.

To John's relief, after a few minutes of soft humming and rubbing her belly, he watched as Sophia easily fell asleep.

Eager, Sherlock grabbed John's wrist and pulled him toward the bedroom.

XXXX

A few hours later, John reluctantly slid from Sherlock's tight grip and padded into the living room to check on Sophia. She was just waking up, gurgling softly and kicking her feet. When she saw John, she grinned and reached up to him.

John grinned and lifted Sophia into his arms. "Hi, Soph..."

Sherlock padded out of the bedroom, standing in the doorway. "I think she should have delayed waking up by a few minutes."

"We only have her for a few more hours, Sher, then I'm all yours again," John responded, exasperated.

"I can't wait," Sherlock sighed as he sat on the couch.

John quickly changed Sophia's diaper and brought her back to the couch. "Look how happy she is," he murmured of the smiling baby in his arms.

"Oh yes, she's full of joy."

He laid Sophia in Sherlock's arms. "Here you go, Soph. Go see Uncle Sher for a bit."

"I didn't request this." Sherlock looked at his niece warily. In response, she cooed and grasped his hand, guiding it toward her mouth. "No. My hand is not edible."

John chuckled warmly. "She's probably teething."

Sherlock freed his hand. Dissatisfied, Sophia let out a grunt of protest and gripped his hand again. In response, Sherlock grumbled and gave in.

John leaned in and nuzzled Sherlock's neck. "Seeing you hold a baby is very arousing."

"I do enjoy arousing you."

"I know you do, darling." He lightly nipped at his skin.

Sherlock groaned. "I say we put her back in her crib and return to the bedroom."

"Hmm..." John was just sliding his hand into the waist band of Sherlock's bottoms when the door opened.

"Bloody hell!"

John quickly removed his hand, surprised by Lestrade and Mycroft's sudden appearance.

Indifferent, Sherlock simply frowned in annoyance."Poor timing."

Lestrade swooped in and retrieved Sophia from Sherlock's arms, glaring at his brother-in-law.

"What did I do?" Sherlock grouched.

Mycroft scrubbed his hand over his face and shook his head. "Gregory insisted on retrieving Sophia earlier than planned," he complained.

"Good. She requires too much."

Greg looked insulted. "She does not."

"I think so." Sherlock shrugged, clearly impatient to be alone with his husband again.

Mycroft turned to John. "I appreciate you taking care of Sophia."

"It wasn't a problem. We love her."

Sherlock began to protest, but a sharp look from John cut him off. To his relief, Mycroft and Greg soon collected Sophia's things and left the flat with her.

Once they were gone, John turned and pulled at Sherlock until he was straddling John's lap. "That was fun."

"Perhaps, but this will be more fun." Sherlock peeled John's shirt off.

John just smiled and surrendered to his husband, and once they were both sated and lying breathless on the couch, Sherlock cuddled into John's chest, John was completely content. He kissed the top of Sherlock's head and sighed.

Sherlock closed his eyes and possessively slung a long arm across his husband's abdomen as he affectionately nuzzled his neck. After a few minutes of calm silence, he spoke up. "After consideration, I wouldn't mind having one of those things."

On the cusp of sleep, John grunted softly. "What things?"

"An infant."

A sleepy grin curved John's lips. "You've just made me extremely happy."

"Very good." Sherlock yawned and nestled closer to him.

John gently rubbed Sherlock's bare back and buried his nose in his dark curls. "Get some rest," he murmured. "We're going to celebrate later."

"I can't argue with that, now, can I?" Sherlock nuzzled John one more time before succumbing to sleep.

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