Okay Chapter 2! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2: Meeting Iain:

"Mummy?" All heads turned to the hallway door. A small toddler stood in the doorway, he rubbed his eyes still sleepy. His small clothes were rumpled as it seemed it just got up from his afternoon nap. Sherlock observed the child, he had had light brown curls, and eyes that were a dark green. His little face was very angular, with high cheekbones like his mother, and a pointed nose. He couldn't be older than two. Two. He suddenly saw it, it clicked. John's anger. Mrs. Hudson's anger. Her. Her. Rowan. Why she lived down here, to be close to John and Mrs. Hudson. Her anger and her sadness. This child, how did he not see it? The child was a perfect replica of him at that age, with a few of Rowan's traits sprinkled in. He suddenly felt very light headed, and made his way to the couch.

"Iain, what are you doing up hmm?" John asked the child picking him up.

"Heard Mummy yelling," he mumbled. "Uncle John, who's he?" he asked finally looking at Sherlock.

"Umm he's Mummy and I's friend, Sherlock," John answered. The child's eyes lit up.

"That's my name when Mummy is mad!" he giggled, "Iain Sherlock Holmes!" he imitated his mother and what Sherlock recognized as the face she made when scolding him or John, and apparently Iain now. Sherlock suddenly looked at Rowan. She blushed up to her hairline, and John took this as his cue for an exit.

"Hey Iain, let's go find a snack," he spoke to the child and headed toward the kitchen.

"Look I understand if you don't want to claim him as yours, we can just tell him you're his Uncle's best friend and leave it at that," Rowan mumbled trying to busy herself with straightening her magazines.

"I hardly think that is applicable, he looks just like me. Eventually he'd figure it out, he seems rather intelligent for a two year old," Sherlock answered slightly offended she would think he wouldn't take responsibility for the boy.

"Yes, he is. Your brother says he acts just like you did at that age," she smiled.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock asked confused.

"Yeah, he's actually really good with him. Until they get tired of each other and then it's like listening to the two of you bicker," she nodded. Mycroft hadn't told him anything of this situation when they were in Russia. What an arse.

"Mummy, Mummy, Mummy Uncle John made a mess," the little one tattled coming in with bottoms of his pants and socks soaking wet. Sherlock looked disgusted, wondering what could possibly be on his pants, but then stopped when he heard her laugh for the first time. It was a glorious sound, one he didn't realize he had missed.

"Well I guess Uncle John is just going to have to clean it up himself, while I clean you up," she smiled tapping Iain on his nose. "Excuse us," she told Sherlock as she led the child into the hallway. Sherlock stood to see the damage in the kitchen, only to find John covered in milk, and a plate of biscuits on the floor.

"Interesting way to entertain the child, John," Sherlock grinned. John looked over giving him one of his famous glares.

"Your child has your gift for mischief, and knocked his snack out of my hand," he replied.

"How old is he exactly?" he asked his old friend.

"He's a year and a half," John said shaking his head.

"Interesting, I would've guess two and a half by his speech," he responded thinking.

"Well with two of the smartest people I know having a child I'm not too surprised with his development. Plus, Rowan is pretty on top of teaching him proper English, and correcting him on his speech," John explained as he mopped up the milk.

"A year and a half put his conception roughly-" Sherlock started.

"The night before your 'death', yes," John interrupted. "Rowan came to me about two months after and told me she was expecting, and I knew she had only been with you in those past two months so it had to be yours. She asked me to be her doctor, which I knew nothing of pregnancy so I told her no, but I'd be there every step of the way. Mrs. Hudson soon found out once she started to show, and thought it was mine. She beat with a broom, telling me how disrespectful it was to get with my deceased best friend's woman. Then once she found out it was yours, she insisted on Rowan living down here. She fixed it all up for her, and Rowan moved in when she was six months along. Eventually Mycroft came by, and by chance saw her, he figured it out faster than Mrs. Hudson, and gave her his credit card for any expense she had. Anyway, the night Iain was born she called me down, and we headed to the hospital. She cried the whole way, telling me how much she wished you were there with her, and how much she hated you wouldn't ever see the baby. It was a rather emotional car ride, but then we got there, and Mycroft was already there, not saying how he knew it was time. We both had to wait in the waiting room, not matter how high of a governmental security clearance your brother had they wouldn't let him in. Finally a nurse came out, and told us we could see them. Rowan was so tired, she had been in labor for twelve hours, but she was glowing holding him. 'Uncle John, Uncle Mycroft meet your nephew Iain Sherlock Holmes.' She told us. We both held him before a nurse came and told us visiting hours were over," He continued to ramble on about the first year and all that, but Sherlock had lost interest.

He was now trying to figure out what his next step would be. Tell Rowan he wanted to be part of his son's life? Ask her to pick up where they left off? What if she had a boyfriend though? The thought of anyone being Iain's father figure besides him left him with a feeling he did not like at all. Could he raise a child though? Support it emotionally, and mentally as his parents his done for him?

Again I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters from the show. Just Rowan, Iain, and the plot.

Please read/review! Thanks!

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