My mind began to wander. Sharing a bed with Sherlock?

Now I could finally have my dream of falling asleep next to Sherlock. Those dark locks of lust would run threw my fingers. Every morning and every night I would look into the eyes of my love. We'd be so close, Sherlock would be able to feel my heart beat.

"Hamish and I," Sherlock finished his sentence, "He's small and wouldn't take up that much room."

I sighed and look at Sherlock. "The boy is 7, he's not going to want to lay with his father." I explained, "I'll sleep with you, and he can have my bed until we get him his own."

Sherlock surprisingly seemed okay with that idea. "Alright," he stood up and we re-entered the living room.

"Why is there a foot in the microwave, Father?" Hamish asked as we returned. He was looking at the skull on the mantel.

"Experiments," Sherlock said plainly as he grabbed two suit cases and went to my room.

Hamish looked at me, "Why is there a foot in the microwave?"

I half chuckled as I grabbed a bag, "When I find out, I'll tell you first."

Once we moved all of Hamish's things to my, now old, room, it was time to wash up and go to bed. Most of the things were books, which surprised me.

I could tell that Sherlock was trying hard to be a good father. When it was Hamish's turn to shower Sherlock triple checked everything.

He checked to see if he had a wash cloth, and enough soap. Sherlock asked him if he used shampoo 'and' conditioner because he was worried there wasn't going to be enough for all three of us.

If you didn't know Sherlock you would think he was just being a good parent. But I saw that he was freaking out on the inside because he had little to no idea on what to do with a child.

When Sherlock was done playing 20 questions with Hamish he came to bed.

He was only in a towel and still wet. I only had trousers on and had my shirt in my hands.

We've never seen each other this bare before so blushing was as common as breathing at this point. But I still faced the other way.

"That was generous of you," Sherlock said to break the silence.

By instinct I looked over to him, but his towel was now drying his hair. I could feel my entire face get bright red as I tried to look away. Clearing my throat, "What was?" I put my shirt on.

"Giving Hamish your room," he walked up next to be where his dresser was. "But it makes sense why you did it."

Does he know I like him? I've liked Sherlock for as long as I can remember. But I could never do anything about it. And even when I did, he would never catch it.

"You don't want to sleep on your small bed any more," Sherlock said, "I don't understand why you don't just get a queen like me. That small thing is bad for your back."

See? Over his head.

No Sherlock its because I wanted to share a bed with the love of my life.

He put pants on and noticed something on my back as I turned to the bed. Sherlock ran his hand softly over a wound I got when I was in Afghanistan. It was near the top of my shoulder. The feeling was numb still but I could feel his touch.

I grabbed his hand with my left and slowly turned to look at him. I held his hand and gave him a weak smile.

His hand wandered to my dog tags that I still wear. I feel naked with out them. It's like how some people always wear a ring, but I wear these.

Sherlock looked up and for once he smiled back. Seeing Sherlock smile, about something that isn't a murder, is rare. He hardly ever shows emotion as it is.

"Father, I forgot a towel," Hamish called from the shower. Sherlock paused before losing eye contact with me. He slowly let go of my hand, got a robe, and began to walk to the bathroom.

Damn you Hamish for ruining our moment!

The bed was all the way in the corner of the room, it had a head board and a foot board so there was only one way to get in. Last time I was in here the bed was in the middle of the room, nice and proper. But now it is shoved in a corner so Sherlock had room for his experiments. I laid down in bed, closest to the wall so Sherlock could just lay in the empty space and not have to climb over me.

"Good night Father," Hamish said, "I love you."

"Uhh... Good night," Sherlock repeated, "I uh, also... Love you..." You could tell he was only saying that because that's what you were supposed to say.

Sherlock came back after a minute and closed the door. He turned off the light and took off his robe.

"You're doing a good job," I said as he laid down. "Being a father and all."

"Oh please," he said. "I feel like an ignorant Buffoon. I can only imagine how stupid people must feel."

"No really," I reassured him, "For day one, this is good."

Sherlock turned to his side and faced me. His eyes looked into mine.

"Our son is going to be fine," I grabbed Sherlock's hand and smiled.

Sherlock was new at this. And like all parents, when you first start this, it's terrifying. It's not like he's a baby so no feeding or changing. But no matter how old, raising a child is hard.

"John," Sherlock started looking into my eyes.

"Yes?" I looked at my love.

"Could we switch sides? I don't like ledges."

Why would he try to do something romantic? Oh right. Because he's Sherlock! And he doesn't do romantic, remember!

"Uh... Sure," I sat up getting ready to move.

Instead of Sherlock getting up so I could move properly, he crawled over me.

Well now that I'm all excited, time for sleep.

"Good night Sherlock," I said as I laid on my side so I wouldn't face him.

"Good night John," Sherlock said.

"I don't know if I roll or kick in my sleep," I warned Sherlock, "So I apologize in advance if I do."

"It's fine," Sherlock said as he drifted off.

But little did Sherlock know that I had a secret plan. Once he thinks I fell asleep I'll roll over and be closer to him.

After about a half an hour I rolled on my back.

Sherlock was asleep by now. His breathing was steady and he held a pillow.

His legs stretched and his left foot scratches his right calf. He shifted positions often trying to find a comfy spot.

For a good two hours I just watched Sherlock sleep.

It reminded me of a cat, he would twitch and fidget to react to his dream.

But then he took a large breath threw his nose and his shoulders lifted. I thought he was going to wake up. But instead he rolled over to his other side to face me. Still asleep he reached his arm out searching for something.

Once his hand found my chest Sherlock hugged my body like the pillow and fell asleep. His head on my heart and his arms around me.

I held my breath not knowing what to do. If I move he might wake up. But if I don't breath and stay still, I'll...well die...

Slowly I began to breath again. I might as well take this moment while I can.

Carefully I placed my hand on his back and held his other hand in mine. Sherlock got more comfortable and intertwined our legs by putting his left leg in between mine.

How am I supposed to go to sleep like this now?

After that Sherlock didn't move. He was comfortable and not once did he even fidget.

Now I could fall asleep with my Sherlock in my arms.