Charlotte was an advanced toddler, but her father had set higher standards for her, impossible standards. John praised her, and Sherlock was proud, but he still expected so much more. At the age of two, she could form sentences and carry out simple conversations. When she turned three she could already define the words "deduction" and "murder". In her third year she also learned the names of some muscles and bones on that doll Molly had given her, which quickly became her favorite toy. At four, she could read a picture book to herself. At that age, when someone asked, "Who's your father?" Her exact response would always be, "I have two dads. Detective Sherlock and Dr. John."
Charlotte had grown fast in five short years. Her hair was dark and curly like her fathers. She spoke very well for her age and it was quite obvious that she was intelligent. On more than one occasion she had heard a word just once and it had become a normal part of her vocabulary. One day, shortly after she started primary school, Charlotte had decided to confide in her fathers about the bullying inflicted on her during class. It was an average evening in 221B. John was entertaining Charlotte, sitting at the kitchen table drawing pictures with a rainbow of crayons. Sherlock was at the other end of the table, staring at something in a Petri dish under his microscope. Secretly, he wasn't focused on the evidence in the dish. He loved watching John and Charlotte, and he was peering over at them not looking through the lens. As long as I have them, I don't need anything else, he thought.
Out of the blue, the little girl looked up from her 'artwork' and asked, "Daddy John?"
"Yes Charlotte," John answered.
"The kids in my class say that they can't talk to me because I have two dads. They told me that their moms don't want them near me because my dads are gay. I told them that it is not true, but I don't know what it means. Did I lie? I hope I didn't lie. What does gay mean? Is it bad?" The little girl inquired.
John looked to Sherlock for guidance. Sherlock pretended to be focused on his work. John sighed. Then he turned to Charlotte and said, "Now, Charlotte, you know that most people have a mummy and daddy that love each other? Well, when someone has two daddys, the daddys are called gay. It's just another word for the two daddys being happy together." He quickly regretted his explanation, realizing it could easily apply to Sherlock and himself.
"Daddy John are you and Daddy Sherlock gay?" the girl tried to understand.
"No dear, but both of your dads love you very much." was the best response John could muddle together. He gently poked her on the nose as he stood up and said, "And don't you forget it!"
The little girl was confused, "So are you happy with Daddy Sherlock?" John turned at the door and smiled, "I am happy with him as my friend, but not in the way that the word gay means. We're a special kind of family Charlotte." Then he left the kitchen, abandoning confused Charlotte. Sherlock went back to pretending to work, but he was really buried deep in his personal thoughts.
Later that evening Charlotte was tucked into her bed, in the room she still shared awkwardly with her biological father. She was getting a bit to old to share a room with her father, but no other rooms were available in their flat on Baker Street. John had suggested they move to find better accommodations, but Sherlock was too attached to his current residence.
John was standing at the kitchen table drying off some dishes and trying to tidy the scientific tools Sherlock had left scatter around. Sherlock entered silently. John turned to face him, holding a teacup and a dishcloth in his hands. He looked down staring at it attentively. He appeared to be focused on his drying, which made it obvious to Sherlock that his mind was drifting. "John…" Sherlock whispered.
John looked up, but didn't speak.
"What you said to Charlotte earlier…" Sherlock began. He was having trouble finding words because he wasn't used to this sort of thing. He continued, "I mean… about… us…" He was still struggling.
"Whatever you are trying to say Sherlock, just say it," John nervously demanded.
Words weren't working, maybe actions would. Sherlock set his hands on the table, entrapping John. John was a bit shocked, but he didn't fidget. The detective leaned down and gently pressed his lips to the doctor's, then backed away.
Similar questions rushed through both of their heads, but of course they didn't realize that they thought mutually. What just happened? Does he feel the same way? If he doesn't, should I lie and pretend I didn't enjoy it? Will this ruin our friendship? What's going to happen next? Isn't this completely illogical?
Sherlock spoke first, "Gay rumors… completely ridiculous. That was just… wrong."
John mumbled, "Yes, ridiculous. How could they even think…?" He dropped the dishcloth and the teacup, letting them crash to the floor. He grabbed the back of Sherlock's head and pulled him close. The kiss that followed released years of tension. Tension that had been building up with each glance, each touch and each word they'd shared since they met.
Sherlock awoke in John's bed, with his arms wrapped around his flatmate. "John," he spoke softly.
"Yes Sherlock?" a barely awake John mustered.
"Am I crazy or last night, did we really…?" Sherlock spattered in confusion.
"You aren't crazy…" John whispered.
"Oh, just checking." Sherlock sighed with relief.
He pulled John close and kissed the top of his head.
The doctor proposed, "Sherlock, you must admit Charlotte is getting too old to share a room with her father. She's growing fast and you keep avoiding the fact that someday she really will need a room of her own. I was just thinking… you could share mine again sometime or all the time, if you'd like… For Charlotte's sake."
Sherlock smirked, "I'd like that, for Charlotte's sake of course."
John said, "Now you've got to let me out, I have to go make breakfast."
"Oh of course…" Sherlock regretfully loosened his grip.
John entered the kitchen to find Charlotte already at the kitchen table, staring at his laptop. He was puzzled, "Charlotte, why are you already awake? What are you doing?"
The girl had already been awake for hours, investigating. She kneeled on top of a chair to reach the laptop, typing rapidly. Charlotte, stilling staring at the screen, elaborated, "Daddy John, you lied to me. When I woke up in the middle of the night with bad dreams, Daddy Sherlock was not in his bed so I went looking for him. I thought maybe he wasn't sleepy and he was working on a case like he does sometimes. I couldn't find him anywhere… so I slowly opened the door to your room. Daddy Sherlock was hugging you in your bed! So I asked some people on the computer if daddys who hug at night are gay and they said yes. I deduce that you told a lie Daddy John!" She told her story with great dramatic emotion.
"You're right Charlotte, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again," John apologized. He decided it was best not to confuse the girl and explain that he and Sherlock had previously not been open about their feelings.
"That is not all Daddy John! I e-mailed Mycroft and Lestrudle! I asked them if you are gay. They said they are and that you aren't. So I told them you were hugging Daddy Sherlock in bed. I still have no replies on that. I will wait," Charlotte carried on.
"Charlotte, you can't just discuss this with people. It's a family matter that stays within the family," John scolded.
"Mycroft is family, he's Daddy Sherlock's brother. Lestrade is like family, he lives with Mycroft," Charlotte pleaded.
"Of course, but they don't know about me and Daddy Sherlock yet. It's kind of a big surprise. You wouldn't want to spoil the big surprise," John corrected.
Charlotte stood on the chair and said, "Surprise? Then WE SHOULD HAVE A PARTY! You can tell everyone how much you love Daddy Sherlock. I'll invite Auntie Molly, and Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft and Lestrudle… And all my dolls will come too! We'll eat cake and sing happy songs! It's going to be fun!"
The doctor rolled his eyes. He responded, "No Charlotte… we're not going to have a party."
Sherlock waltzed in, stretching his arms and yawning. "A party sounds like a grand idea dear! But I don't think that's what John wants… and I don't think we'll be able to convince him otherwise."
BONUS:
Charlotte's Post On "wiki-answers":
I am five years old and I live in London and my daddys say that they are not gay but last night I saw them hugging in bed are they gay?
[[ if you search for this question, my friend Lisa actually posted it online ;) ]]
Actual response from a real user:
Possibly, but if so they don't want you to know (or they're not sure how to explain it). Parents are allowed to have a few secrets. Give them a few years.
Charlotte's e-mails to Mycroft and Lestrade:
Charlotte: Are my daddys gay? - CH
Mycroft: No. Who taught you that word? - MH
Lestrade: They say they aren't. ;) - GL
Charlotte: Well last night I saw them hugging in bed. -CH
Mycroft: Oh god I hope you mean just hugging. – MH
Lestrade: Gay. I knew it. - GL
