Friend said "Sherlock with a baby." I don't know if I like this, but here you go.
Sherlock stalked down the sidewalk raising his hand for a taxi, but none were responding, it seemed that his magic taxi summoning powers didn't work unless he was on a case. It's just that he needed to get home as soon as possible and even a taxi through the terrible London traffic would be faster than walking. Ignoring that piece of information Sherlock kept stalking down the sidewalk adjusting the bag in his hand to make the plastic handles bite less into his skin. Half way home Sherlock's phone started to ring, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. Didn't John think he could do anything? He answered the phone without checking the caller ID.
"Yes John, I'm almost home and I got everything we need. Calm down." Sherlock waited to be berated for quick (correct) assumptions, but the lecture never came.
"John?" The voice was very much not John's, it was very much Lestrade's, "Look I don't want to know what you two are doing, but you might want to bring him along. I've got a case for you." A case! Oh a blessed case! This was more than Sherlock could have hoped for in this phone call, it had been at least a week since the last one, and though he and John had been busy, Sherlock was starting to itch to get out of the house.
"We'll be there as soon as possible." Sherlock hung up at that, Lestrade was well trained enough to know to text the address of the crime scene. As soon as Sherlock got the address he called John, "John! John, we've got a case!" Excitement was brimming to the edge of Sherlock's voice and John couldn't help but chuckle at his husband.
"We, Sherlock? I think you mean you. As much as I know you want me there, I can't." It was true Sherlock had been nagging at John to come with him on cases, since he was much better as an assistant than Anderson. Every time a case came up Sherlock would want them both to take off into the night and hop into a taxi that Sherlock some how magically summoned. That was just not the reality they lived in.
"I know you can't usually come, but Lestrade said that you should be here on this one. He didn't say why." Sherlock almost pleaded, but he knew he won with the mention of Lestrade, apparently he was the responsible one.
"Fine, because Lestrade says I should. Are you almost home? I'll talk to Mrs. Hudson."
"I'm almost home." Sherlock could hear John moving about on the other end of the line, the rustling and creaking of steps, "I'll see you when I get there. I love you."
"I love you too." Those were their favorite words.
It only took a few more minutes of walking for Sherlock to get to the front door of 221 Baker Street, and only a few more moments until he was up the stairs in 221B Baker Street. John met him at the door smiling at the groceries his husband had brought home, laughing at the gallon of milk he had added to the list.
"Alright, Sherlock, lead the way." With a signature smirk on his face the dark haired detective grabbed John's hand dragging him down the stairs almost into the street. Once outside, and since he had a case, Sherlock was able to grab a taxi in no time. they were quiet in the back of the cab. Sherlock was prepping his mind for the information that was soon going to be racing through it. John was quiet with nerves, sure he had been in the military, but this was different, it was a police crime scene. He didn't know what to expect and that was driving him a little mad.
John was startled out of his minor panicking by Sherlock's hand on his, startled john looked up to see a reassuring smile.
"John, you are going to be fine." John could only smile back and grabbed Sherlock's hand in return.
It took a few minutes for them to get there traffic slowed them down a bit, but it was fine eventually they got there.
"Sherlock! Glad you could make it, John. We have a small problem at the scene and everyone else is needed to be working." Lestrade shook John's hand in greeting and started moving them to the the house in which the crime took place. John furled his brow in confusion, he had no idea what he could do to help with a "small problem."
"Is it Anderson being an idiot again? Because I say that that is more than a small problem." Sherlock scoffed. Now they had reached the front lawn Lestrade motioned for someone to step forward, awkwardly holding a baby. Sherlock had never seen them before so he assumed he was new.
"As you can see the victims were new parents. Which makes this all the more tragic, but, John, would you mind holding him until we get this scene under control." Lestrade looked helpless, not knowing what to do with the baby. Sherlock wanted to laugh that all it took was a baby to bring the Great Scotland Yard to its knees.
"Really-"
"Of course, I'll look after him until you get things in order." John had cut Sherlock's insult off at its ankles only to shorten the bickering between him and the Detective Inspector, "Do you know his name?"
"Jacob. We found it painted above his crib." The man holding him spoke up as John took the baby from him, careful to support the baby's neck.
"Oh, Jacob, Jacob." John cooed, the man who had had the baby looked at John like he was mad, but said nothing only leaving, "I hope you have some family near by."
"Lestrade!" Sally's frantic voice called out to them on the front yard, "Lestrade! One of them is alive! Ambulance isn't here yet and I don't think he has much time!"
This got all of their attentions, there was a chance that one of the victims could be saved, but wait, where was the ambulance!
"Sally, you got to make sure he hangs on until it gets here!" Frantically, his eyes raced across his people on the scene, they all looked away, "Did someone call them?"
No one met his intense glare. They had all been so shocked by the baby that they had forgotten to notify the nearest hospital. Idiots.
"Lestrade, I can help. Army surgeon remember." Without any word from the Detective Inspector John handed the baby to Sherlock and took off into the house passing a shocked Sally on his way.
"You can't hand a baby to the Freak!" She shrieked in terror as she caught sight of Sherlock rocking the child in his arms. The Army doctor ignored her while he knelt to help the man currently bleeding out, "John, it's great that you can do this and all, but Sherlock with a baby? He'll drop the poor thing!"
"If were to drop him then he would probably drop the one we have at home, and that hasn't happened yet." John didn't look up to see the shock and horror on her face, "Sir, can you hear me, sir." The man groaned in response, "Alright I need you to stay with me. What I am going to do is going to hurt a lot and I'm sorry, but I'm trying to save your life."
"My wife," the man managed to shove the words past his lips, "please save my wife first." His eyes rolled back in his head. John tried to find the woman's pulse, but there was nothing there.
"Sir, I am sorry, but your wife didn't make it." Now John looked up to Sally, "Get me their first aid kit!"
"What?!"
"Just do it!" Sally ran into the bathroom grabbing the massive first aid kit sitting on the middle shelf in the closet.
"How-"
"This is there first born." Sally didn't know how that answered her question, but she remained quiet as John went through the contents.
"My wife!" The man groaned as he tried to move around. John pinned him down at the shoulders, eyes flashing to Sally for help. She obliged. John pulled out the tweezers from the first aid kit, pouring some Hydrogen Peroxide on them to sterilize as best he could. Once done with that he gently set to work trying to pull out the bullet from the man's side. Sherlock stood at the doorway still cradling the baby to his chest.
After several tense minutes of complete focus and the only sound the sobbing of John's patient, he finally got the bullet out and the bleeding to stop.
"Sally," John said calmly looking over his handy work, "what is the status on that ambulance?" Sally's eyes were huge at what she had just seen, so it took her a moment to recover.
"They should be here soon, sir." She had called him "sir" he wanted to laugh, but assumed this was not the time. Instead he got up and made his way to the bathroom to wash the blood off his hands, Sherlock followed him.
"John, that was brave of you." John kept his gaze fixed intently on the red tinted water flowing down the drain, "John, he is going to be fine." When John didn't respond Sherlock left the small bathroom. He knew that if the man didn't make it he would crash and blame himself, point out every mistake he made and how he could have done it better. It was about as healthy as what Sherlock did when he was trying to figure out a case. He made his way back into the living room ignoring the suspicious stares he got while he held the child.
"Sherlock, you can hand off the baby now. I'll take him." Sally blocked his path into the kitchen, her arms akimbo.
"No thank you Sally, I don't really trust your maternal instinct." Sherlock said dismissively.
"Yeah, well I don't trust you holding another living being. Sherlock, had the baby over." Sally words were hard, hard enough to wake the blissfully sleeping child. Jacob started to cry at the loud noise, "See, this is your fault."
Sherlock started to rock the child back and forth, humming softly under his breath. The child's cry brought John running into the room, eyes wide, probably suspecting the worst. It didn't matter, Sherlock kept his focus on the wailing Jacob.
"Oh, Jacob, it's okay you're fine," Sherlock whispered in Jacob's small ear, "You are going to be okay, Jacob." John relaxed at the sight of his husband taking care of things, but the Yarders were wide eyed and confused at the somehow gentle sociopath.
"Sherlock! Give-"
"Hush, Sally, you're only going to make Jacob cry again." John said from the bathroom doorway, he moved to stand in front of Sherlock, putting Jacob in between them, "See, he's already starting to calm down."
"John!" Lestrade was immediately shushed by both John and Sherlock. He changed his voice to a loud whisper, "The ambulance is here, I want you to go with the man so you can tell them what you did." John nodded and, with one last pat on the baby's head, left the house, "Sherlock, you're with me. We should get that baby to the hospital as well."
"Yeah, before the Freak drops him." Anderson had decided to make an appearance wrinkling up his nose at both child and detective. Sherlock assumed that was why he never had kids.
"Wait, Sherlock, do you actually have a kid at home?" Sally couldn't let the one line John had muttered out of her head. Casually Sherlock turned to look at her.
"Yes, she's six months old. Her name is Layla." Then he left once again leaving the Yard in a state of shock.
