Sherlock sat at his makeshift lab in the dining room, voraciously scanning the contents of a petri dish under his microscope. The solution to his newest case depended on wether or not he could locate a certain chemical compound in the sample of soil taken from the crime scene.

Now, Sherlock enjoyed a challenge; deciphering codes, solving puzzles, all things that provided sufficient stimuli to his brain. What he didn't enjoy, as he soon learned, was attempting to do these things with the screams of the new addition to the Baker Street lot. Sherlock shot a glare at John, who was attemping to console the whining child, petting and bouncing him which didn't seem to have any effect at all.

"John, make it stop!" Sherlock demanded, giving his flatmate a pointed look.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" John replied indignantly, holding the crying child against his chest as he tried to soothe him.

Sherlock groaned, getting up off his chair and stomped towards the living room. "Give me him." He said, urging John to hand over the infant.

John clung to the baby, hesitant to hand him over.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I'm not going to hurt it, I'm going to make it stop that infernal noise making!"

"You're going to try and settle him?" He said, shocked that Sherlock would even consider it. Since the baby's arrival, just less then a week ago, the detective had refused to hold him or show any interest in parenting despite the whole thing being his idea initially.

"Well you're certainly not able to." He shot back, taking the child from John and holding him at arms length, as if inspecting him before he cradled him to his chest, like John had done. Hamish sniffed a bit, but his crying did subside. "Hm. I seem to have found an off switch." Sherlock commented, looking at the child curiously.

"Very funny." John sighed sarcastically. He was a bit envious that Sherlock had been able to quiet the baby so easily after he's spend a good twelve minutes trying to hush him. "Seems like you have a way with children."

Sherlock huffed, extending his arms to return the child to John.

"No no, you hold him. He seems to be enjoying it." The doctor pointed out, glancing at the baby who was now nuzzling into Sherlock's chest.

"You can't be serious."

"I am serious."

"But John! I'm working on an imprtant case! I can't...I can't babysit!"

"Hey, you brought him home in the first place and said we were going to be parents." John shot back. "You need to start pulling your own weight in this."

"But -"

"No 'buts'."

Sherlock groaned in defeat, taking Hamish back over to his microscope. If he had to take care of the child he was at least going to get some work done.

John gave a sigh of relief. It was the first break he'd had since Sherlock had brought the child home.

"I'll be in the bath if you need me." John told his flatmate (and now partner in parenthood), intending to get as much relaxation out of his break as possible.

Sherlock didn't offer a response, trying to fix the intesity of the microscope's lense while also attempting to hold the baby, finding the task rather difficult.

"Alright then." John said, leaving Sherlock to sulk while he grabbed a book and headed to the washroom.

Sherlock continued to search through the sample of dirt, keeping his eyes open for the familiar botulinum toxin he'd become an expert in finding.

"Yes! Got it!" He shouted when he found the familiar molecular structure he slammed his fist on the table in victory, the loud sound waking and startling the baby into another fit.

Sherlock looked down in slight panic at the infant's squalling, holding Hamish as he squirmed to make sure the delicate child didn't wiggle too much and fall out of his lap.

Steps thudded down the hall and John came rushing into the kitchen, still dripping wet and a towel held around his waist.

"I left you alone with his for five minutes. Five bloody minutes!" John cried dubiously, practically ripping the child out of Sherlock's grasp.

"It's hardly my fault, how was I to know my success would cause such a violent outbusrt?" Sherlock replied in his defence, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Shut up, Sherlock." John hissed, holding Hamish to his wet chest.

Sherlock glanced at the good doctor up and down. "I think you should know that -"

"I said shut up."

"Yes but has it occured to you -"

"I don't want to here it!"

Sherlock resumed his defiant position for a moment before standing up.

"Fine." He said, passing by John who was still trying to comfort the wailing child. Resting his hand on the door frame, picking something up off the floor as he turned to look back at John.

"I was just going to inform you that in your haste, your towel had fallen."

John paled, spinning around on his heel to see Sherlock flaunting the towel that had been around his waist.

John's face turned bright red as he ripped the cloth out of his flatmate's hand, giving him a glar that Sherlock simply returned with a smirk before heading to the living room.

Author's Note : Haha, chapter 2! Figured I'd leave a comedic end. Didn't exactly flow as easily as I would have liked but I still like this chapter quite a bit. I hope you guys do too and that you leave me a nice review saying what you think! Until next time.

~RZA