When John woke up, he was being pushed off the bed by Ian's feet, his tiny monkey toes digging into his dad's back forcing him to inch away from the small creature. Ian's head was resting on Sherlock's back, and even though their bed wasn't that big, there was enough space between John and Sherlock for Ian to be completely horizontal between them.
John glanced at the clock, it was three in the morning. Him and Sherlock had just gone to sleep three hours ago, no doubt Ian heard them fighting and came to their aid immediately. John got out of bed, picked Ian up, and made to take him back to his own bed, but when John tried to lay him down again Ian clung onto him like his life depended on it. John trotted back up the stairs with their sleeping six-year-old in his arms, and once he got back to bed he laid Ian on his chest and closed his eyes. In minutes, he felt Sherlock shift and soon Sherlock was stuck to John's side like Ian was.
Right before John fell asleep, he realized he shouldn't have anything to worry about with Amy visiting. And he wanted to show Sherlock that everything with them was perfect and that he trusted Sherlock and Amy both.
Sherlock called Amy right away the next day. He said he'd meet her at the coffee shop they used to go to all the time in two weeks, two Tuesdays from that day, so they could catch up first. Sherlock was very excited to see her, he almost wanted to fly her out there that very moment, but she had her work to finish and said she'd see him in two weeks.
Ian didn't understand anything that was happening, of course. All he knew was Daddy's good friend is coming to visit, Dad was kind of upset about it, he was allowed to sleep with them every night if he wanted -which wasn't a common occurrence- and Daddy was very, very happy.
"Why's Daddy so happy about his friend coming?"
"He hasn't seen her since," John swallowed and felt himself getting awkward, but Ian didn't catch on, "Since you were born."
"Why does he need another friend?"
"Daddy's not allowed to have friends?"
"I guess he can, if it's ok with you."
"It's fine with me."
"Are they going to talk a lot, like adults do with Daddy?"
"I suppose they will."
"And are they going to hug?"
"Is that what friends do?"
"I don't know, I just thought that's what you're for." Ian pointed his tiny finger at John.
"Yeah," John smiled and chuckled a bit, "That's what we're for." John pointed his finger between himself and his son.
Finally, Tuesday arrived and Sherlock was eagerly pacing the living room. Ian and John sat on the couch watching him go back and forth. After an hour of watching, Ian stepped in line behind Sherlock and, with the same exact look on his face, paced behind Sherlock. When Sherlock turned around to start again, he and Ian smacked right into each other.
"Oh!" Sherlock exclaimed, "Ian, what are you doing?"
"Thinking, ssshh. You're putting me off."
John got the widest grin on his face and tried his hardest not to laugh in fear that he, too, would be putting Ian off.
Around noon, Sherlock left the flat to meet Amy. Ian wanted to go, he begged Sherlock to take him, but John managed to bribe Ian with Peter Pan. Once the DVD was in, Sherlock slipped out and got a cab.
Sherlock sat at a table and fidgeted. He tapped a straw on the table, his leg bounced up and down, his fingers twitched, he couldn't sit still. He stared out the window and felt his heart jump with each passing cab. Finally, ten minutes late, Amy showed up. She got out of the cab, paid the driver, paused outside the coffee shop, took a deep breath, and went inside. Sherlock saw the whole thing, and once she was inside, he raised a hand to show where he was. Amy smiled wide and made her way across the shop to Sherlock. He stood and embraced her into a tight hug, he remembered her scent and the way she felt against him, it's just this time she didn't have a baby in her belly. He chuckled as he thought about that, that the baby from her belly was perched on his couch watching Peter Pan for the third time that day.
"It's so great to see you, Sherlock."
"You too, Amy. It's been very…different, to say the least."
"I feel like it's been a million years. I feel like Ian should be graduating from Oxford this summer."
"Practically. That kid rivals me in intellect."
Amy smiled as Sherlock talked about Ian; he told her about Ian's rough time with school, Ian's Christmases, the things he and Ian do together, the fact that Ian is mini-him.
"So, is he like John at all?"
"Oh, gosh." Sherlock sipped his coffee and laughed, "He's exactly like John. He's so caring and loving, he's so funny and sarcastic, just his general facial expressions are so John. He has this one look especially for me, when I'm getting on his nerves, that's the same face John uses that says, 'Geez, Sherlock, shut the hell up,'. It's the funniest thing."
"He sounds wonderful, Sherlock."
"He really is," Sherlock sipped his coffee again, "So, would you like to accompany us for dinner tomorrow evening?"
"You know, I'd love to."
"Great. John's cooking, just come to the flat around 6?"
"Perfect. Should I bring anything?"
"Nothing particular."
"But I will bring something. Anything I should avoid bringing?"
"Let's see," Sherlock thought, "Ian doesn't much like chocolate, odd child. But he does like gummy or hard candy, like fruity candy. Actually, John doesn't like to give him candy at all." Sherlock paused and looked at Amy, "On second thought, bring candy." Sherlock and Amy smiled and laughed with each other for two more hours, then Sherlock returned to 221B.
"How's your friend, Daddy?"
"She's great. She's coming here tomorrow."
"She is? And I'll meet her?" Sherlock nodded. "Sounds wonderful, Daddy." Sherlock patted his head and went to the kitchen.
The next day, at quarter-after 6, the doorbell to 221B rang. Ian jumped up to get the door, but Sherlock stood after him and told Ian to stand down. Sherlock went to the door and opened it for Amy, who stood on the other side looking nervous.
"Good evening, Amy!" Sherlock said, throwing his arms around Amy.
"Hello, Sherlock, how is your evening?"
"It's fine," Sherlock took her coat and hung it on the hook, "John's just in the kitchen."