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They walked into a small white room, that had one crib, a rocking chair, a soft rug and a changing table. There was nurse off to the corner of the room, and a small blanket wrapped figure inside the crib. "Thank you, Penelope. " John said absently to the director.

Sherlock had a vice grip on John's hand as they moved forward. They peered into the crib at the sweetest baby they had ever laid eyes on. "Is it a boy or a girl?" Sherlock asked, his voice ringing with feeling, something that sound off and unusual as it passed his lips.

"A boy." The nurse replied, before the director lead her out of the room. "We will leave the three of you to be alone for a while." She said as the left through a door to their right.

John could feel the tears welling up in his eyes as he watched Sherlock reach down into the crib and pick up the sleeping baby. He cooed nonsense in a smooth tone as the baby started to cry, quickly calming him down. "You were right, you were so right." He said as he reached out and ran his finger+s over their son's thick, dark hair. It was just like Sherlock's. "He has your hair." He was the most beautiful thing either of them had ever seen. And with that he opened his eyes to the world, nice and wide, taking everything in, John supposed.

Sherlock knew he was being selfish holding onto the baby for as long as he was, but he didn't have enough room in his heart to care. It was too filled with joy and happiness. He looked just like John, he had his nose and his ears, all of his clearly defined facial features. He was so perfect. While the Detective had been nervous about the baby he certainly hadn't expected this swell of emotion that had welled up inside of him. This was his son, John's son, something that wouldn't have even been possible five or ten years ago. This baby was a miracle.

"I'm dying here, Sherlock. Can I just hold him for a moment?" John asked, anxious to hold their child in his arms as well. With that, the younger man passed him over (very carefully). He slid his hands out from underneath of him, brushing John's arm as he did so.

So many people had told them that their relationship was wrong or a sin, but when he looked at John holding their newborn baby...He was incapable of seeing how anyone could seeing view such a thing as a sin. "John...there's something I must do. Just give me a second." He said as he rushed out of the room, taking a lost longing look at his family.

Honestly, this was the birth of their son and he couldn't stay longer than five minutes? John shook his head, cooing at the little baby in his arms. How could anything be that beautiful, he thought as he sat down in the rocking chair. "Where has your papa gone? Hmm?" He asked as he rock back and forth, holding him close to his chest.

But within just a few more moments Sherlock was back, mobile in hand. "I just went to call everyone. I know you wanted Greg and to be the first to know, but I added Molly to the list as well. And as far as Mycroft goes, I'm sure he is already watching." He said with an automatic eye roll. He knelt down so that he was eye level with the baby and kiss his tiny hand. "Can you believe we made this John? Because I can't, I just can't believe how amazing this feels."

"I know, I'm just glad the wait is over. And thanks for calling everyone, I appreciate that you let me hold the baby for a bit." He said with a quite laugh, not wanting to disturb the baby.

Sherlock smiled, glad that he had done something right. "I also talked to the Penelope, she said that whenever we are ready, we can leave, but that there's no rush."

John still had a few more things he wanted to do before they left, like put him into the blue onsie they had brought in case it was a boy, check his measurements..."What about all the paperwork?" John asked as he continued to rock.

"Done, I took care of it." He said, not daring to look up this time.

John's face turned from a smile into a very stern, cross expression that Sherlock had learned to look out for. "What did you do?" He asked, trying not to worry, even though he knew he should.

Sherlock was silent for a few moments, just staring at their child. "Nothing, I just filled out some forms, signed a few things, you know." He said, clearly leaving something out.

"You know, as in things like the birth certificate?" John asked, gripping the arm of the rocking chair. Sherlock stood up, and walked across the room. "Maybe."

John took a few deep breaths, trying to remember that there was a baby in his arms. "What did you name our son?" He asked between gritted teeth." Sherlock!"

He snorted and mumbled something under his breathe. "What was that, I couldn't quite catch it." John asked in a scary way that made Sherlock want to jump.

"Definitely not Matthew James. You must see it was a ridiculous name to begin with." He reasoned.

"And Sherlock is not ridiculous? It's a girls name for goodness sakes!" John said as he stood up and place the baby back in the crib. "What did you name him, Sherlock!?" He asked as he backed him into the corner.

The younger man knew that he would have to say, but that didn't give him much motivation. "William... I put down William as his first name." Sherlock said timidly.

"We will talk about this later. At home." He said quietly, much, much too quietly. John didn't even think about changing him from the blue onsie to the white now. He picked up the baby once more, placing him into the car seat that they had brought, and carried the baby, seat and all out the door. He said quick goodbyes to the director (making sure to be overly friendly) and all the nurses and made his way out the door. Sherlock on the other hand followed out out cautiously, avoiding eye contact with basically everyone, but thanking the director on the way out.

He very gingerly helped John get the baby into the car, once again awed by how perfect he was, even with all his layers on. John was silent for the first few minutes of the drive, letting Sherlock drive in peace for the moment, but he could tell a storm was brewing.

"You named our child after the bloody Duke of Cambridge, without even warning me!" John said, his voice dark and quiet at first, but getting more intense as he realized how upset he truly was.

Sherlock moved to say something but John quickly cut him off. "We had those names decided on months ago, after nearly two months straight of bickering. Then you think you can just go and change it to whatever the hell you feel like. I am so unbelievably pissed off with you right now, the only reason I'm not screaming bloody murder, is that there is a baby in the back seat." He said, his face the shade of a strawberry.

"What were we going to do, name him something awful just because we had previously decided it was a good idea? If you recall, William was on your list and made it into the final selections." He said, knowing full well that it was a bad idea to argue back.

"Yes, but so did Sherringford and Hanz. Did you ever think for a one moment I was going to go for either of those?" He asked.

Sherlock attempted to bite his tongue and swallow his words, yet failed miserably. "Just so you are aware his full name is William Hamish." He spat, bitter now knowing that John had never taken those choices seriously.

The detective never really got to see the soldier side of his doctor, but oh when he did, he knew to be prepared for a war. "When we get home, you better hide my gun Sherlock Holmes, otherwise it will be your body they'll never find." He said before turning on the radio, but keeping it low so that it wouldn't wake...William.

William wasn't really a horrible name, he didn't actually mind it much. It was just that Sherlock had gone and made the decision without him. Hamish on the other hand, had been a name that had tortured him for decades. A name passed down through a long line of Watsons, ridiculing each generation that much more than the one previous.

-o0o-

By the time they arrived at Baker Street a little while later, baby in tow, John was absolutely fuming. But he wasn't going to be the one responsible for wrecking the first day of their child's life, especially since Sherlock had already cursed him with the name Hamish.

Once they had gotten him home and out of the seat, John allowed Sherlock to have the first go at changing a diaper. Sherlock had split dead people in two, seen countless dead bodies and murders, and could easily handle the stench of a rotting corpse, but this...this was unexplainable. "How can it smell this horrid? Has he even really had time to digest that amount of food?!" He howled as an amused John watched from a safe distance as the brunette began to undertake his first ever nappy change. He very carefully unfastened the tiny diaper that the nurse had originally given him, gently lifting his legs, making sure not to hurt him, only to be face with an unholy mess that Sherlock just rid as quickly as possible.

And that's when his son, this impossibly small human being, his progeny, began to urinate on him. The look on Sherlock's face was utter betrayal, where as John was splitting at the sides. "Don't laugh! Help me! John!" He hollered as his free hand searched for something to stop the stream, but by the time his hand had landed on something suitable, William had already finished and Sherlock was satisfactorily covered.

John just walked away, leaving their child in Sherlock's (somewhat) capable hands. He came back (of course) as soon as Will had been all cleaned up, whisking him off and allowing Sherlock to go do the same. He just loved looking at him, even though he was still a bit red and his hair stuck flat to his head, he was easily the most beautiful thing that John had ever seen. And even Sherlock being Sherlock wasn't going to detract from their first day as a family.

"One day William, I'm going to tell you the story of how you got your name. And I'd bet the farm that you will laugh and laugh, because even though it doesn't seem very funny right now, we will look back and see that Papa did this because he loves you so much. And don't tell him this, he will be insufferable if you do, but he was right. You're not a Matthew at all. William was a better choice, and I guess I should just be happy he didn't name you Horatio or Quinn or something equally odd." He said softly, in a high pitched voice that seemed off in his throat but strangely appropriate.

"At least Mycroft won't be upset by it, it's definitely a British sounding name for a full blooded British boy." Sherlock said as he rounded the corner. He was showered and still slightly damp, towel drying his hair with one hand and his other is his jumper pocket. He was attempting to get back on John's good side. He knew it drove him wild when he dressed down. So instead of the soiled dress shirt he wore his one blue polo that John had gotten him last Christmas, a plain grey hoodie, and jeans, hoping that it would at least be enough to get him out of the gun hiding phase. He knew it was safe to sit down when John flashed him the beginnings of a smile.

He sat down beside his partner in crime/significant other. "We are in way over our heads, aren't we?" He asked as he rested his head on John's shoulder, staring into William's big blue eyes.

"Definitely." John replied. "Aren't we always though?"

Sherlock smiled and kissed John's cheek, reaching out his hand to play with Will's tiny toes. "He is much cuter once he has stopped spraying bodily fluids."

John chuckled. " I don't know, I was pretty proud of that, I'm not gonna lie." He said, now sporting a full blown grin. "You're still not forgiven, and if you ever pull something like that again, I will punch you in the face. I promise you that."

"Well, it's not every day that one can mess with the naming of a child." He replied casually. Sherlock ran his hands over his lover's back as he looked longingly at their child. "We should have another one. Then I would have one to hold."

"How about we handle this one first, then we can talk about having another." He said with light laugh.

John smiled and realized he had had the baby for an exceedingly long time, but he really didn't want to give him up. Even then he knew he should, so he gave him to Sherlock who held him in his lap. "Are you really alright with William, because we can go change it if your not." Sherlock said. "Though you must say he has a William way about him." He added, hoping they could keep it.

"It's a good name, a strong name. I do like it, but you shouldn't have gone about it the way you did. Did you really have to give him the name Hamish?" John asked.

Sherlock laughed. "I thought you would like it to continue down the line. It is a strong name, I'm sure being around us, he will need as much strength as he can get. He laughed once more, this time jostling the baby a little too much.

"John! What do I do!?" He asked as he held the crying baby out in front of him,

He just shook his head. "Comfort him, soothe him. What did the books say?" He said, trying to get him to think, because John for the life of him, couldn't remember.

He stood up, cradling him in his arms, rocking him as he walked, but it didn't seem to be working, the more he walked, the more William wailed. He started to sing, something John could safely say he had never heard before, and although it was beautiful, the baby didn't seem to appreciate it.

John soon jumped up and ran to the kitchen, running back into the living room almost as quick as he left. "I bet the poor kid is hungry." He said as he put a small green pacifier in his mouth, which William seemed more than content to suck on for the time being. "See, that's all. I will go make up a bottle." John said, feeling Sherlock's apprehension float away.

"Thank you." He said, breathing a heavy sigh of relief, now knowing the cause of this upset. He continued to rock the baby in his arms, was observing as he eyes fluttered open and closed. He about what it must be like to see the world through fresh eyes, he decided it was a lovely thought, one he would most likely expand on later. But for now, he had to focus on William. John brought out the bottle and held his arms open.

He smiled as Sherlock handed Will back to him, reluctant to let go." It's alright, I'll let you change his nappy again in a little while." He laughed as he put the bottle in their baby's mouth, and he happily began eating.

Sherlock sighed, realizing that dirty diapers were now a integral part of their lives and would be for some time. "How about a trade, diaper duty for the first night shift?" He proposed.

"That's not fair! You don't even sleep." John said as he considered the offer. "But okay, I'm absolutely beat." Even now he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, not to mention the utter lack of sleep that he had had the night before. As content as he would have been to just hold his baby all night and never let go, he knew he would have to sleep and soon. so he passed the baby off, readjusting his sweater.

It was already dark and way past supper (despite the fact that they hadn't eaten since lunch). "I think I will head to bed now, actually, maybe once he's asleep, you can join me." John said, kissing Sherlock on the cheek and William on the forehead.

Sherlock nodded, cherishing the kiss and the wrapped bundle in his arms. He watched as John went off down the hall, heading to their bedroom. Sherlock moved up stairs to the nursery, the light aqua blue reminding him of the ocean. Sherlock had wanted a green but John thought that the blue would be more gender neutral, despite his protests but now it suited the room quite well. He sat in the rocking chair, holding the baby closer, watching as his eyes shut.

"I just sure hope we're ready for this."

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