2 years ago, Sherlock Holmes said yes.
John had returned 3 years after he had left Sherlock, and had moved in with him in a little flat near Sherlock's University. They had lived together happily for about 6 months before John Watson had dragged him into their car, and told him to be patient, that their destination was a surprise.
He had taken Sherlock to the littler Italian restaurant that had been their first date.
They had walked to the gazebo, and John had gotten down on one knee, and asked Sherlock to stay.
Forever.
And Sherlock had said
"Yes…
"obviously"
They had been married a year ago today, and the pair had never been happier.
Sherlock was Sherlock, although his cutting wit was always softened when speaking to John.
The scars on his wrists had long since faded, and their little flat was a bit messy, but perfect for the pair.
One day, Sherlock was laying on his back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, with his feet in John's lap.
Sherlock spoke suddenly.
"John?"
"Mm?"
"What do you think of children?"
John looked up, surprised "You want…kids?" he asked, cocking his head.
"Yes" said Sherlock, after a moment's hesitation. "Yes, I'm quite sure it would be good to have a child to care for and bond with and-"
"Sher, shut up" laughed John "We'll go to Mother Mercy's tomorrow"
Sherlock smiled, and closed his eyes.
The next day, Sherlock walked into Mother Mercy's Children's Home, hand in hand with John Watson.
John stepped forward, leaving Sherlock standing stiffly behind. John spoke with the secretary for a moment, and the secretary called out a matronly looking nun, who gestured Sherlock and John to a door off to the side.
They walked through, and were confronted by a group of plainly dressed but well cared for kids. They were laughing and playing. John smiled and went to talk to the children, who were all very small, 2 or 3 years old.
Sherlock hung back, looking warily at the children, unsure what to do or say. For all his intelligence, he felt useless with kids.
Suddenly, he felt a little tug on the sleeve of his winter coat.
He looked down at once, gazing upon the face of a tiny pale boy with a mop of floppy curly hair and bright green eyes that took up most of his face.
Sherlock felt a smile twitch his lips as he crouched beside the boy. "Hello" he said softly.
"Hi" said the little boy "I like your coat. Did you just have biscuits? And coffee?"
Sherlock blinked at the boy, who was probably only three. "And how did you know that?"
The boy brushed crumbs off of Sherlock's damp sleeve, then pushed the sleeve up to Sherlock's nose. It smelled of the coffee Sherlock had spilled that morning when eating breakfast with John.
"Obvious" said the little boy.
Sherlock smiled, and extended a hand "I'm Sherlock"
"I'm Oliver" said the boy proudly, shaking with Sherlock.
Sherlock scooped the boy up, and called "John?"
John Watson didn't hear him over the giggling children, but when he looked over a moment later, he saw Sherlock holding Oliver, who was chattering away as he poked Sherlock's 15 minutes, the little boy had fallen asleep in Sherlock's arms. Sherlock walked over to John.
"Can we keep him?"