Have some domestic stuff! Stay at home consulting father and baby stuff! Enjoy!
221B Baker Street was familiar with all sorts of disturbances in the middle of the night.
There was the time an assassin broke in through the window and attempted to strangle Sherlock, only to be foiled when John showed up with a pistol. There was the time they let an art thief spend the night and woke up to him and his drunken friends having a rowdy game of strip poker. There was the time Sherlock overdosed and John broke through a wall with his fist in a show of anger and concern.
However there was one disturbance that 221B was experiencing for the very first time, and that disturbance was a wailing infant.
"Mmm...Sherlock..." John groaned, trying to ignore the screaming sobs of his child. "S'your turn."
There was no reply. John rolled over in bed with the intention of slapping his husband awake, but found that the bed was empty. John's eyes narrowed in confusion, and he forced himself upright so that he could search for the missing detective.
"Sherlock...?" As he stepped into the hallway he heard his husband's voice coming from the baby's room. He tiptoed to the doorway, his bare feet feeling cold on the floor. He peeked in through the doorway and saw a familiar head of curly black bedhead.
Sherlock had their daughter in his arms and was currently attempting to quiet her. He made small shushing noises, which was quite normal for any parent with their child. Then he began with the abnormal parenting techniques.
"Rose, I understand you need some way of alerting your caretakers that you need attention, but do you really need to keep crying?" The detective muttered. John tried to hold back a chuckle while Sherlock continued pleading with the baby.
"Your father has been working late, and he needs sleep. We both need to make our sacrifices. I cancel my usual experiments and instead join him in bed so he can relax, and you keep quiet during late hours." Sherlock pressed a kiss to baby Rose's forehead. "There, you see? You've quieted already." He yawned slightly and carried the baby over to a nearby chair, sitting down with her. Only a few minutes later both daughter and father were asleep, and John had to send both of them to their respective beds.
"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. "The sippy cups are not for eyeballs!"
Sherlock looked up from his tea to where their landlady was staring into the contents of the aforementioned eyeball sippy cup with dismay.
"Has he been putting body parts in the cups again?" John groaned, still struggling with making baby formula.
"All the tupperwares were full." Sherlock argued. "It was convenient."
"You'll make her sick!" Mrs. Hudson said worriedly, lifting her goddaughter up much to the baby's delight. Rose giggled and gurgled as babies do when confronted by a familiar face.
"Sherlock, no more body parts in baby dishes." John put a bottle in Sherlock's hand and then grabbed a travel mug of tea from off the table. "I'm off to work, try not to blow anything up near Rose." He gave Sherlock a hurried kiss and waved to Mrs. Hudson and the baby before rushing out the door, no doubt already late.
"Look at you two, you take to being fathers so easy!" Mrs. Hudson handed Sherlock his daughter so he could feed her. "I thought for sure there would be more...fighting and autopsies." She laughed.
"I don't see anything so hard about it." Sherlock scoffed. "He works, I take care of Rose, simple."
"Oh, dear." Mrs. Hudson chuckled. "Wait until she's a teenager and starts dating."
"She's not going to date." Sherlock glared. "I'll have John follow her with his gun."