Author's Note: Ever notice how people just randomly pinch babies' cheeks? Like, babies of people they don't even know? This is inspired by that common happenstance. I own nothing.
"The three of you make such a beautiful family!"
"Did you adopt? Or did you have a surrogate mother?"
"Which one of you is the biological father?"
Remarks like these were forever being shouted at Sherlock, John, and little Rosie when they went on what John called "outings". John bore it all fairly well; he was accustomed by now to assumptions about his and Sherlock's relationship, and he supposed the addition of a baby made people talk even more.
Far from explaining the complicated set of circumstances that led to John and Sherlock raising a child in their Baker Street flat, at these comments from gossiping neighbors, John just smiled placidly.
Sherlock had never paid attention to what people talk about, so the new crowd of people that obsessed over Rosie didn't bother him if they stayed well enough away.
It was when they gave Rosie lavish attention that Sherlock showed his displeasure.
"Oh, what a precious little girl. What's her name?" A woman said to John when the three of them were walking to get lunch.
"Rosie." John said, giving the beaming woman a courteous smile. Rosie was in her push-chair asleep and Sherlock stood at John's side scowling at the woman.
"Well, what a beautiful name for a beautiful girl!" She said, still beaming and reaching forward to touch Rosie's cheek.
Sherlock stepped forward and blocked the woman's hand as it came closer to Rosie's push-chair. "Don't put your hands on her. I understand that you are incapable of bearing children so you feel the need to caress every child you see, but kindly do not include my goddaughter in your pathetic search for comfort from the pain of infertility." Sherlock said, making the woman recoil violently and glare at him before scurrying away.
John sighed: Sherlock's hostility was nothing new. "What was that about? Are you going to be unnecessarily rude to everyone who compliments Rosie?"
"Yes. What makes these people think they have the right to run their filthy hands over every child they see? I intend to make them" Sherlock said this word as though it was a hideous insult, "aware that your daughter is not to be touched."
John smiled at Sherlock, though Sherlock didn't face him. They continued walking, and John had a new appreciation for the extent of Sherlock's love for him and Rosie.