Sherlock stood mesmerised. He held Hamish close and let the rest of the world slip away as they studied each other. Hamish was only a few days old, and so didn't have much of a vision range but he had a remarkable attention span when it came to staring at his Father.
A small arm waved up, having worked its way out of the swaddling blanket, and gently patted against Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock leaned closer and snuck a tender kiss to the little hand. Hamish cooed quietly and rested his hand softly in the dark curls above his new-born eyes. Closing those tiny fingers lightly on a lock of hair, Hamish closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Sherlock just smiled and whispered, "Sweet dreams, my little one."
Sherlock had started keeping notes in his mind about what seemed to soothe his son the best.
Slow, quiet pieces on the violin always helped when Hamish started squirming whilst asleep, but not quite crying himself awake.
If he did start to truly fuss, Bach preludes quieted him the best. Rocking Hamish's cradle worked well if the boy had just eaten, but he didn't like it if he was due for a feeding after his nap.
Nothing worked if he needed to be changed.
Talking, even just thinking aloud, worked to calm Hamish if he had been startled awake by the noises of London (or the odd explosive experiment).
But what worked the best, and in every scenario (okay, every scenario except for a dirty nappy), was when Sherlock held him to his chest and let Hamish keep a hand against his hair or cheek.
And so over the next few weeks, Sherlock became more and more comfortable with the slight weight of Hamish in his arms while the baby slept.
"John, help!"
John snapped awake from his light nap (or so he thought) and squinted at his watch.
"Bloody hell, Sherlock," he muttered (the new no cursing rule was going to kill him, John knew it) as he followed Sherlock's quiet, yet urgent, call coming from the kitchen.
"Why didn't you wake me earlier?" John asked, rubbing his eyes, completely oblivious to Sherlock's problem.
"You-need-sleep-more-than-I-do-and-I-thought-I-could-handle-him-for-a-few-hours-now-will-you-please-pay-attention-and-help-me?" Came Sherlock's reply, all in one quiet string which caused John to finally take note of the position of his partner and their new baby. John bit back a laugh as he moved to help.
"One- you do so need sleep as much as I do. And two- I think it's Hamish who's got the handle of the situation." Sherlock just gave him a (rather tired) glare as John gently disentangled Hamish's tiny fist from one of Sherlock's curls without waking up the slumbering infant.
"Yes well, regardless, we were doing fine and didn't want to disturb you. Besides," he added quietly (maybe if he was quiet about it, John wouldn't catch the pout), "he'd never pulled before."
"Thanks," John mumbled, stretching up to placing a kiss to Sherlock's temple.
"I still can't believe you cut it shorter," John murmured as he gently pulled his fingers through Sherlock's new hairstyle.
"He was only just born and he already got a good grip on it the other day," Sherlock replied, still rocking a tiny Hamish, regardless of the fact that he had long since fallen asleep. "Besides, it's the closest I'll come to living up to my name." Sherlock smirked up at John, knowing what was coming.
"Don't you dare ever get rid of all of it," John warned as he have a soft, loving tug on the curls left in his partners fringe, "The curls suit you."
"Yes, John."
A/N: Think Sherlock will ever be rid of the longer locks on the show?
Thanks for reading, as always! Much love goes out to you.