A/N So this was going to be a one shot but a few people asked me to carry it on so I decided to try and write a few more chapters. They're going to be random snippets of their life together and probably wont have a running plot between the chapters. Just so you're all aware.

Here's chapter two =]

Sherlock was sat at his desk in the main living room of 221b. All the electric lights in the room were off, the only light coming from the two candles at either side of his desk. He preferred it this way; the candles weren't harsh on his eyes but left enough light to see his work by.

It was 10 in the evening. John walked wearily into the room and stood leaning against the doorframe watching his unlikely lover as the candle light flickered around his features. He strode over to the desk and placed a hand in Sherlock's long dark locks of hair. "You need to rest your eyes. You've been working on this case all day. Give it a rest." He placed a light kiss on the younger man's temple, letting his hand fall to his shoulder.

Sherlock nodded slightly and leaned back in his chair, blinking heavily, trying to clear his brain. Since the dynamic in the house had changed, he'd started to listen to John more, taking his advice on board more easily. They stayed like that in silence for a while, John looking over Sherlock as he rested his mind and turned it from case solving into relaxing; for a while at least.

Through the silence came the noise of a door opening and closing, followed by the sound of small feet pattering down the hall way and down the flight of stairs.

"I thought you put him to bed," Sherlock stated.

"I had…"

A five year old Hamish Holmes-Watson hurried into the room, blue eyes flashing and a bear clutched to his chest. Tears were brimming in his eyes and he was shivering from head to toe. Sherlock turned his chair and opened his arms to the young boy. It had taken time, but comforting words and sympathy were a daily occurrence for him now. Hamish ran into his father's arms, jumping into his lap and settling there. John knelt by his side as Sherlock's arms enveloped the young boy.

"Did you have bad dreams again son?" the doctor asked, stroking the young boy's hair gently.

Hamish nodded his head slowly. "I'm sorry Dad. I couldn't ignore them like you told me to."

John smiled sympathetically. "That's okay," he cooed soothingly. Sherlock placed a loving kiss on the crown of his sons head.

"You're not mad with me, are you Father?" the young boy looked up to the detective, a worried look in his eye.

"I could never be mad at you for bad dreams." Sherlock looked down at his child, smiling gently. The boy held such promise. He was intelligent for his age and was so well behaved the pair of them rarely had to even raise their voices. The best part was the change he'd made to Sherlock since he'd arrived in their lives. Sherlock was once a cold and unfeeling almost mechanical human being. Hamish had changed that, making him softer and more understanding of other's needs. The change had been somewhat gradual to begin with, but with help from both Hamish and John, Sherlock began to feel again. Now a doting father and a loving partner to John, Sherlock couldn't be doing better for himself.

"How about a nice glass of warm milk and a biscuit to help you sleep again 'ey?" John suggested, finally breaking the silence that had grown in the room. Hamish nodded and smiled a little, nuzzling his way even further into Sherlock's embrace. John nodded and stood, leaving the room to head for the kitchen.

Sherlock cuddled Hamish closer to his body. "What did you dream of son?" His voice was soft and soothing.

"Mother again…I miss her…" tears spilled over onto his cheeks.

"I do too…" Sherlock brushed the tears away with a gentle thumb.

They sat together in a comfortable, understanding silence, waiting for John to return. When he did finally come back into the room, John found the two, curled together under a blanket, both with their eyes half shut.

"I guess the milk won't be needed then," he said softly through a half smile. "Bed, for both of you."

They both nodded and slowly began to move. Hamish slunk to the floor and rubbed his eyes, holding a hand out in the air for his father to hold. Sherlock stood next to him and took the hand offered to him, holding it tight. "Come on then son," he said sleepily and began to walk to the stairs, Hamish following and John not far behind.

Half way up the stairs, a small voice was heard. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

John felt his heart skip a beat as it broke in too. "Sherlock…one night wouldn't do any harm…" Sherlock had turned around and John could see the pain in his eyes. Sherlock felt exactly the same.

Hamish had his eyes shut, expecting the answer to be no. He definitely didn't expect to be picked up by his father and carried to his shared bed with his dad. Sherlock placed Hamish into the middle of the bed and curled up next to him, fully clothed, and pulled the blankets around them both. John joined them on the other side of Hamish, placing a kiss on the small boys' forehead. "Goodnight, my little one."

"Goodnight Dad, goodnight Father." Hamish cuddled between his two fatherly figures and fell into a deep, restful sleep.