Hey, folks! Just a lil oneshot I wrote in about 15 minutes. It's Johnlock, so slash, but nothing too heavy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.
Sherlock was not used to watching his daughter without John's assistance.
Eva was four months old and a fairly well behaved young infant, but at such a young age, she required a lot of attention that he was unfamiliar with. John usually handed the more sentimental parts- cuddling, cooing, and other things that Sherlock deemed as nonsense.
John disagreed with quite a few of Sherlock's parenting ideas. Sherlock spoke to Eva as he did to adults, while John used a ridiculous cooing tone while speaking to the infant.
"Such a big girl!" John praised as he swayed back and forth with Eva in his arms.
"You sound like an idiot."
John glared at his husband. "She's four months old, Sherlock. She needs to hear loving voices, not cold-voiced stories of bloody crime scenes."
"What if she talks like an idiot when she learns to speak?"
"She won't. She likes it when I talk like that. It makes her laugh. When you speak to her, she just stares at you."
"You stare at me."
"Right." John settled Eva in Sherlock's arms. "I have to go to work. She's been fed and changed, so she'll just fall asleep."
"Will she soil herself and require another change?"
"Maybe."
Sherlock scowled.
"Sher, you experiment with body parts from the morgue without batting an eye, but you're repulsed by diapers."
"So?"
"It's weird."
"Weird is good. Normal is dull."
"Hmm." John kissed his husband. "Love you."
"I love you as well." Sherlock watched as John left for work, then diverted his attention to Eva, who was sleepily staring at him. "Do not listen to him. I will continue speaking to you in the same manner I talk to adults."
Eva stared blankly at him before yawning in disinterest.
Sherlock huffed in annoyance. "Do not be bored. You cannot prove John correct, because I have to be correct."
His mobile phone beeped, indicating that he had a text message.
Homicide on South Avenue, behind the butcher's shop.
Sherlock quickly typed a reply.
Thank you, Graham. I will be there in fifteen minutes. -SH
It's Greg.
Oh. -SH
He pocketed his phone and tucked Eva into her carseat, which he carried to the car and strapped into the back. He arrived at the crime scene in slightly less than fifteen minutes and strapped Eva into the ridiculous sling that John had purchased. It secured her against his chest and the black cloth contraption was hidden fairly well under his coat, leaving only Eva's head exposed. Her wispy dark curls were covered in a fuzzy hat to protect her ears from the wind.
Greg was standing near the scene and tried not to laugh when he saw the baby's head.
"What?"
Greg shrugged. "It's just odd seeing you toting a baby around. Does John even know you brought her here?"
"John is at work. Mrs. Hudson is out and could not babysit. I had no other choice than to bring Eva." Sherlock knelt next to the body on the ground and studied it. "Recently returned from a vacation overseas, a habitual heroin user, employed at a factory, recently separated... locate the wife and arrest her."
Greg nodded and spoke to his officers before driving back to Scotland Yard with Sherlock following. They went to his office and discussed the case, with Eva cooing in her carseat, which was resting on the desk.
Once Sherlock had discussed enough, he left the Yard and returned to his flat to tinker with his various experiments in the kitchen. John would not be home for a few more hours, and Sherlock had very little to do until then.
He had been home less than twenty minutes when the door to his flat opened. "Sherlock? You left something in my office."
Sherlock grunted and left the kitchen. "What could I have possibly left?"
"Something that John would kill you over if he knew you left it."
"What? I have my wedding band. I can't think of anything else I could lose that would provoke John," Sherlock mused.
Staring at Sherlock in disbelief, Greg revealed Eva in her carseat. "You left her on my desk!"
"Oh. I was wondering why the ride home didn't involve infantile noises in the backseat." Sherlock took Eva's carseat from him.
"That's it? You forgot your own kid and that's what you say?"
"What am I supposed to say?"
"John's going to kill you!"
"John cannot kill me if he does not know this happened."
"What happened?" John's voice queried from the doorway.
"Your husband left Eva on my desk and went home without her," Greg supplied.
John's eyes widened. "Sherlock!"
"John!" Sherlock mimicked.
"This isn't funny, Sherlock." John snatched Eva. "How could you forget our daughter at work?"
"I am not accustomed to taking infants with me when I go out in public. When I do become used to that, I will not forget her again."
"You can't forget a baby, Sherlock!"
"Settle down. Gavin safely returned her home."
"Greg," Greg corrected with a huff.
"Are you sure? I'm fairly certain it's Gavin. George?"
"It says Greg on all of the badges you've stolen from me!"
"Misprints?"
John rolled his eyes. "Thank you for bringing her back," he addressed Greg. "I'll be having a word with my irresponsible husband." Once they were alone in the flat, John turned back to Sherlock. "How?"
"How what?"
"How can you be so bloody brilliant and so forgetful at the same time? You can memorize the entire table of elements, but you can't remember to bring home a baby that your sperm produced?"
"I will not do it again."
John smacked Sherlock's arm. "Of course you won't!"
"That hurt."
"It was supposed to!" John glared at him and hugged Eva. "I'm putting her to bed." He left the room and tucked Eva into her crib before he returned to the living room and sat down on the couch.
"You aren't angry." Sherlock sat down on him, draping his long legs across John's lap.
"I am."
"Not anymore." Sherlock nuzzled John's cheek. "You are no longer angry with me, because I have the ability to make you forgive me."
"Sher... stop. I want to be angry with you for forgetting our daughter at the Yard."
"No, you don't. You dislike being angry, despite your temper." Sherlock nuzzled him again. "And I will not forget our daughter at work again. I have learned my lesson."
"Oh?" Suddenly John grabbed Sherlock's hips and none too gently pushed him so that he was beneath John, eliciting a smirk from his raven haired husband. "You've learned your lesson?"
"Possibly, but I may require another one."
"Is that your attempt at flirting?"
"It was an order."
John grinned wickedly and stripped both of them of their clothes before he proceeded to make love to his husband until they both collapsed, breathing heavily. When they were sated, John tugged the taller man against his chest.
"Am I forgiven?"
"Oh God, yes."
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