Chapter 15: Patience
Disclaimer- I don't own BBC's Sherlock, or any other representation of Sherlock… unfortunately
"I know you can do it." He paused.
"Don't try and trick me. It doesn't work." Irritated arms crossed over a puffed chest. A laugh at his annoyance, sounded from a wooden chair.
His hands were on either side of the furniture then, blocking in the offender of the amused noise. He leaned in close and blew out a puff of air.
"What do I have to do to make you give me what I want? Hmm? Bribe you in some way? Of course that's what everyone wants. But I won't beg. Not even to you. I do have a reputation to keep, mind you."
Another laugh caused him to grit his teeth. He pulled his face close to the perpetrator, looking deep into their eyes.
"Why are you being so resilient? The more you resist, the more I'll antagonize you." He sighed.
"Fine." He said stiffly, rising from his position. He walked over to the fridge, and grabbed the milk cartoon, before pouring a generous amount into a cup.
"Well then I guess somebody's not getting this." He stated with a raised eyebrow, lifting the cup to his lips.
"Sherlock, stop teasing the baby." I chatised, pushing myself off the wall.
Said baby gurgled at my interruption, seemingly pleased I had prevented her father from drinking her beverage. I snatched the bottle from Sherlock and cooed at our daughter, handing her the dairy product. I kissed her forehead affectionately, before turning to fix the detective with a disapproving look.
"I told you before Sherlock, she'll say it when she's ready."
"She's just being stubborn. Just like her mother." He muttered, scowling at the tablecloth.
I smiled at his childish behavior, and moved to wrap my arms around him.
"Just give her some time. Then she'll be saying it all the time. And sooner or later, you're gonna be tired of hearing those words."
"Not a chance." He mumbled, placing his chin on my head. I sighed at the movement, closing my eyes at the pleasant sensation. Long fingers soon circled my back, massaging out all of the stress from that day's challenges. I groaned, and buried my face into Sherlock's chest, marveling at the talent his hands possessed.
"Remind me to request massages from now on." I breathed, melting into the detective's arms. His baritone chuckle reverberated throughout my body, sending the hairs on my arms to rise.
"Perhaps we should retire to bed then." He purred seductively.
"I don't think Shirley would appreciate that." I said, pointedly glancing at the mess in the high chair. A giggle seemed to confirm my assumption.
"That's what I thought." I sighed, untangling myself from Sherlock to pick up our daughter.
"Time to get you cleaned up." I cooed, kissing her forehead.
Sherlock snorted, and from the corner of my eye I could see him cross his arms over his chest. An unhappy look became his expression.
"Aww, you're daddy's jealous because I'm giving my attention to you. Yes he is!" I baby talked to Shirley, enjoying the game. I raised an eyebrow at the other baby, gauging his reaction; daring him to do something about my abandonment. A glint of acceptance to the challenge, flickered across Sherlock's face. He pushed off from the counter and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out his phone.
"Well Shirley, it seems like you and mother will have plenty alone time together, seeing as our anniversary plans have now been temporarily delayed." He looked up at me to smirk, "It appears I have a case to solve."
My jaw dropped open at his unexpected play, and I scowled at him, not amused at the threat. Sherlock knew I had been dying (according to him, not literally) to go on vacation with him for months and the thought of the trip being cancelled, even playfully, devastated me.
"You wouldn't," I mouthed, holding Shirley close. Sherlock blinked, before opening his mouth to say something, no doubt, something sarcastic.
"Dada." An airy breath interrupted.
Shocked silence took us, and tears filled my eyes at Shirley's accomplishment.
"I told you she would say it when she's ready." I choked out, happiness flowing down my cheeks.
"Correction. You made an estimated assumption, based on the huge belief you have in our daughter's abilities…"
"Sherlock." I interrupted, giving him a pleading look. He sighed in defeat and moved to wrap an arm around my waist. His lips greeted Shirley's cheek, earning a delighted noise from her.
"I'm proud of you." He whispered, laying his head against my neck.
I smiled at the double meaning those words held, glad that the most infuriating, rude, and ego maniac sociopath, was my husband.