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Rosie Watson was 7 years old when she was called to the headmaster's office for the first time. She had punched a kid who had mocked her, saying she fought like a girl. So she proved him how a girl really punches.
She was sitting quietly in a chair that was too big for her, alone in the empty office. She knew what she did was wrong but she couldn't quite regret it. Rosie knew, though, that her daddy won't be proud of the situation she put herself in.
She could already hear him saying “Violence resolves nothing,” and sighed imagining the lecture she would receive once back home. No more of her favourite biscuits snacks for a week, nor tv for a month maybe. Even worse no more Cluedo with Sherlock. Rosie started to regret her actions right there, facing the possible punishment that would happen.
The headmaster finally walked in which made Rosie’s head snap back up, eyeing the adult.
"Hello, Miss Watson. I’m Mrs. Fran,” She introduced herself while sitting in her own chair, “You know why you’re here, don’t you?”
The little girl nodded timidly.
“I've called your father. He'll come soon enough so that the three of us can have a chat." The woman didn't look very frightening but she didn’t look nice either. She had blond hair tied up in a tight bun and was wearing a grey blazer that matched her pencil skirt with a white elegant blouse. If Rosie wasn’t so frightened of what her punishment might be; she would have thought that the woman was pretty.
Rosie bite her lip while waiting for the inevitable. Soon enough there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," said the headmaster.
The door opened and a tall figure walked in. To Rosie’s surprise, instead of being confronted to her dad’s disapproving look, she saw Sherlock neutral bored one.
"Mister Watson, thank you for coming in so short notice. Please sit down," Mrs. Fran instructed while pointing to the empty chair beside Rosie.
The detective entered fully in the room and sat down. The little girl gave him a small smile, wondering what he was doing here instead of her dad. Not that she was complaining. Sherlock was always the one on her side when Daddy was lecturing her. He often lightened her sentence when she had done something bad by arguing with John. He often brought up clever arguments or changed the subject of the conversation so that John would lose his focus. It didn’t always work but most of the times.
"So, you said on the phone Rosie had been in a fight?" Sherlock asked.
“That would be exact. I can't tell enough how much we are disappointed on your daughter's behaviour."
"As am I," Sherlock agreed.
"You'll have to understand that this school doesn't tolerate violence and if it was to happen again she would be expelled for a certain amount of time."
"I guarantee you that this incident won’t happen again. I will have a proper talk with Rosie about this." He gave the girl a glance.
After 10 minutes in her office, the headmaster finally let them go. Sherlock took Rosie’s small Backpack and guided her into the hall by the hand.
Neither of them talked until they were out of the school grounds, “Why are you here instead of daddy?” Rosie asked tugging Sherlock’s hand.
"The school phoned home. Your dad seemed to be unreachable, he probably forgot to charge his phone last night.”
"Still doesn't explain why you're here and pretended to me my da."
"I didn’t think it was necessary to get your father out of work for such a small incident. Besides I had nothing better to do and Lestrade hasn’t come by with a good case yet today to entertain me."
"Small incident? I punched a classmate!" We could already see, even at a young age, Rosie had already been incorporated with John’s moral values. She knew what she did was wrong.
"All kids fight, it happens. I’m sure your dad went through a lot of fights when he was your age.”
“Do you think so?”
“I’m sure of it.”
There was a silent pause as they walked home from school hand in hand. xx Sherlock reduced his natural pace so that Rosie’s little legs could follow the lead.
The school wasn’t too far away from 221B and it was sunny outside so,as usually when Sherlock picked Rosie up at school, they would go the park. She loved playing on the swings, Sherlock would push her nicely until she begged “higher, higher” and he would push her so high that for a moment she’d thought she could fly.
“Do you know my dad since then?” Rosie asked curiously.
“No, we didn’t grow up together.”
“You and da haven’t been friends since forever?”
“It's ‘haven’t you’ and no, not exactly. But we've known each other for quite a long time, now.” Sherlock admitted.
“Mark told me I fought like a girl.”
“You proved him wrong,” Sherlock said.
“I want to take judo classes.” She demanded, “Mallory Beckett takes Judo classes and it seems super efficient to fight annoying boys.”
“You’ll have to ask your father, but I’m not opposed to it. I think it’s rather a good idea.”
“Really?” She beamed at him.
“Yes, you have to be able to defend yourself,” Sherlock smiled down at her. Rosie smiled back.
“Are you going to tell daddy about it?”
“What he doesn’t know, can’t hurt him.” He told her, “Now tell me did this kid bleed when you punched him?”
"a little bit..." She mumbled.
"Ice cream?"
Rosie chuckled, "Ice cream seems like a good idea."
“Don't tell your dad, though. You know he doesn’t like it when I feed you sweets."
[~~~~~~~~]
She wanted to explain that it was her fault.
The headmaster's door opened to reveal a black silhouette with dark curls.
“It wasn't my fault I swear !”
“Miss Watson sit down.”
“But I didn’t start it!”
“Mr. Watson please have a sit, I’ll explain everything. ”
Sherlock sat down on the chair beside Rosie, he was pretty much used to be in this room by now.
“Rosie and a friend -”
“She’s not my friend,” Rosie informed.
“Rosie and a classmate were caught having a food fight.”
“That’s not true!” Rosie yelled.
“Then explain your version,” Sherlock stated.
Rosie looked between the two adults and started to explain, “I was eating lunch, minding my own business when Cathia throw a meatball at me but she missed me, I just picked it up and threw it back. While doing so I hit her square in the eye and got tomato sauce in her eye. I’m still thinking she was faking, though. I didn’t hit her that bad and there was barely enough sauce.”
“Has the other pupil been punished too?”
“Well no she was the one injured.”
“Well, you cannot only punish my daughter just because she has better aim than the other kid.”
“Mr. Watson, your daughter didn’t need to throw back the meatball.”
“And the other kid didn’t have to pick up on Rosie. She defended herself. I don’t see why the other girl isn’t punished too.”
“I’ll handle the other girl's case.”
“ Great, now if we’re done...”Sherlock trailed off as he stood up.
“We aren't quite finished,” the principal said.
“Oh, but we are. ” He said opening the door, leaving with Rosie close behind.
[~~~~~~~~]
Rosie was nervous. She knew this time what she did was really wrong, like really really wrong. So wrong that even Sherlock would be angry and disappointed but what other choice did she have?
“Mister Watson, sorry again for the inconvenience…” The headmaster started, used by now to see Sherlock in her office.
“It’s no bother. What has Rosie done this time?”
“Well, your daughter caused quite a fuss today…”
“Oh really, did she punched that kid again?” Sherlock asked nonchalantly.
The headmaster gave him a look and a dead silence established itself.
“A bit not good?” Sherlock asked the little girl.
“No, a bit not good.” she tried to hide her smile.
There were times like this that Sherlock had no doubt Rosie was John Watson’s daughter. She had a smile on the corner of her mouth when she said those same words just like her father.
“Mr. Watson to go back to your daughter incident….” the headmaster trailed off, “Rosie was caught cheating on her math exam.”
Sherlock turned to glance at Rosie who was avoiding his eyes, playing with the end of her uniform skirt.
“Rosie would never do that.”
“She doesn’t deny it.” Mrs. Fran said. Sherlock turned to face Rosie, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Is it true, Rosie?”
The little girl nodded ashamed, tears in the corner of her eyes. The fact that Sherlock wasn’t even angry but disappointed was what hurt her the most. This was the situation she was trying to avoid. Of course, he would have to tell her dad and she would be punished for the rest of her life but seeing the devastated look on Sherlock’s face was even worse. She felt like such a failure.
“Now, I know that we all make mistakes and I already had a talk with your daughter about this incident. She promised that she wouldn’t do it again. Math can be hard and a lot of kids hate that subject, but maybe at home, you could try to help her with her homework. Find an amusing way to help her so that she wouldn’t feel compelled to do it again. ”
“Of course. Her father and I will do our best to help her in her studies. It won’t happen again.”
“Your daughter is a very bright girl, Mr. Watson.” The headmaster smiled nicely. Sherlock couldn’t agree more.
That day they took a cab home, it was raining and Sherlock hadn’t brought an umbrella. They avoided the park and went straight home. The ride was silent, Rosie was looking at the landscape passing by with a hand under her chin while Sherlock was typing fiercely on his phone.
“Why did you cheat?” Sherlock’s voice startled Rosie and she took a moment to reply, not really knowing what to say.
“I didn’t want to disappoint dad nor you.” She said in a small voice.
Sherlock shifted so he could look straight at her.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were having troubles with math, I could have helped you.”
“Because I don’t understand it. I failed the last test too. And even if you help me with homework I still won’t get it. My brain doesn’t work like yours, I’m so stupid and I didn’t want to tell you because I know how much you hate stupid people, you keep saying so about your clients.” She told him, tears in her eyes that she was desperately trying to contain,“ I thought if I got an A, you would keep loving me.”
“Me? Stopping loving you?” Sherlock blinked confusedly.
“Yes because I'm not smart like you.”
By now a tear now rolling down her face, Sherlock took her in his arms hugging her.
Sherlock felt guilty, he should have been more careful with his attitude toward others when Rosie was close by. Even though Rosie wasn’t officially his daughter, and he didn’t really have a say in her education, the fact that she was living with him, it was normal that she would look up to him in some kind of way.
She deduced rightly that he hated being surrounded by adults morons, adults being the keyword, but he could never hate her for being who she is. She was young and still learning, and he could never hate her for something like that. Especially because it was not true.
Since the very first time he saw her, he fell in love with her pinky cheeks, her fair hair just like her father and her bright green eyes. When John moved back to baker street with her, Sherlock was delighted. As time went by, he started to love her like his own daughter, even though he would never admit it to her, even less to John.
Sherlock knew his lifestyle wasn’t suitable for a child. So he tried his best to prevent Rosie from getting injured around the flat or intoxicated by any of his experiments.
He started to clean more after himself, he no longer left his experiments hanging around on the kitchen table where they ate dinner. He no longer played his violin at 4 a.m. in the morning, except when Rosie had nightmares. Then he would play a lullaby to put her back to sleep. He tried to create a suitable environment in the flat for a baby. But he should have been more careful with his behavior when she started growing up. He hadn’t paid enough attention and now the little girl was sad and it was his fault.
“Rosie I would never hate you.”
He said kissing her temple. The 7 years old girl hid her head in Sherlock’s neck and clench to the collar of his coat, afraid to let go.
“But- I-I’m stupid.” She sobbed into his neck. "How can you possibly like me.”
“No, you aren’t. And even if you were I would still love you.” He told her, stroking her back in a reassuring gesture.
“Why would you? I’m not even your real daughter,” she said between sobs.
That made him paused.
“Rosie?” She sniffed and pulled back in order to look at him in the eye.
“The reason why you don’t want to be my real dad is because I’m too stupid to be your daughter.” Sherlock furrowed his brows.
“What kind of nonsense is that Rosie?”
“At school, we learned about families, all the other kids have two parents and I’d like to be like them.”
“Rosie you are unique in your own way, why in the world would you want to be just like the others? Ordinary is boring.”
“You think so?” She asked.
“Yes.” He stroke her blond hair, “besides, not all kids have two parents, some have divorced parents or only one mom or dad…”
“I’d still like to have another dad,” she complained.
“Why not a mother?” Sherlock asked curiously.
“Because I want you to be my dad.”
“Why didn’t you talked to us about this before?”
“I didn’t want you to hear you say that they were right.” she wiped a tear rolling on her cheek.
“You’re intellect has nothing to do with the fact that I am not your dad.”
“So why aren’t you? You just act like one!”
“I really don’t.”
“And you live with us. What’s the difference with the others families?” She asked him. “Both you and daddy take care of me, play with me. You cheer me up when I'm sad or sick. You read me stories before bed and you give me ice cream. You take me to the park, you teach me new things and let me help you with your experiments.”
Sherlock took a deep breath. This conversation wasn’t what he had expected to have waking up this morning.
“It’s not that simple, Rosie.”
“Why not? I could just start to call you dad, I’m sure daddy wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m not sure about that..” Sherlock mumbled to himself. “Rosie, I’d love to be your dad, really. But I'm not sure your dad would agree.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s complicated.”
“What’s complicated?”
“Grown-ups.” He sighed.
“Oh.” She bowed her head disappointed. Sherlock took her small hand in his in a reassuring gesture.
“What matters is, even if we might not be a typical family, the point is we love each other.”
“Can I still call you dad?” She beamed.
“What about ice cream?” He asked, avoiding the subject and telling the cab driver to change the itinerary to go buy ice cream.
That night, Sherlock was putting Rosie to bed after reading her a bedtime story, when the little girl called his name.
“Sherlock?” She mumbled already half asleep.
“Yes?”
“For what is worth. I think you and daddy are great daddys.” She admitted her eyes closed, drifting to sleep..
Sherlock didn’t thought that hearing those words would make him so happy. He descended the stairs and found John on his chair by the fire reading a novel. He knew he should talk to him about what had happened, but he didn’t know how to approach the subject so for now he decided to avoid it, like the coward he was.
[~~~~~~~~]
John was late, he had had a last minute patient, and that made him leave the surgery later than he had anticipated. Therefore instead of taking the subway, he decided to take a cab.
Rosie’s play would start in less than 15 minutes and if he didn’t hurry he would miss the beginning and his daughter will never forgive him for it. It was her first time on stage and it was extremely important to her.
In the last few weeks, she had annoyed anyone who would listen, about the importance of her part in the play and how awesome it will be.
This morning, before John left for work, she kept repeating the schedule for tonight's show so that he and Sherlock wouldn’t forget. Which would be impossible as she wouldn’t shut up about it.
John finally arrived at Rosie’s school almost on time, a petite blond woman was already closing the gates.
“Wait!” He called out. The woman looked up and gave a reassuring smile.
“Late, are we?” She teased.
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us.” She comforted, “Is one of your kids in the play?”
“Yes, Rosie Watson.” He smiled fondly thinking of his daughter.
“Oh! She’s a sweetheart, a bit of troublemaker though” She chuckled.
“Oh really?” John asked curiously.
“Oh yes, you should know, you must have been called a thousand times to the headmaster's office since the beginning of the year.”
“No, I actually, I haven’t,” John admitted.
“Oh, it must have been your husband, then!”
“My husband?”
“Oh yes, he got quite a reputation here, walking around with his long coat and his dark curly hair, he has a lot of fans around here.” She laughed.
“You mean Sherlock?” He must have known that people will assume, like always, about him and sherlock.
“Yes, I think that was his name. He’s the one picking her up from school too right?”
“huh, yes, when I can’t make it.”
“He’s such a sweetheart with her, he comes running when she’s is in trouble.” She laughed, “which is quite a lot when it comes to Rosie, she is a daredevil.”
“Yes, she is,” John mumbled, knowing how close Rosie and Sherlock had become over the years and she had a thing to take him as a role model which wasn’t always a good thing.
“Well, enjoy the show.” The woman said, leaving John at the entrance of the theater so that he could try to find his seat.
He looked for Sherlock and noticed him in the third row. He walked over to him, sitting on the empty seat beside the detective, that he knew was kept for him.
“Thought you wouldn’t make it,” Sherlock said typing on his phone.
“Well ‘husband’ dear, I wouldn’t miss our daughter show for the world!” John said ironically. Sherlock furrowed his brows. “Care to explain what you and my daughter have been doing behind my back the past few months ?" John asked.
Sherlock gave him a side look his head still focus on his text message.
"What do you mean?"
“I mean you acting as Rosie’s father.”
“Oh… that.”
“Yes, that!” The doctor hissed, “You have a lot to answer for Sherlock Holmes.”
“There’s no need to make such a big deal about it.” Sherlock dismissed.
“Big deal? Sherlock, you pretend to be someone you aren’t. If people have had heard of it, you could-” Sherlock cut him,
“But nothing happened, you were busy at the surgery, I didn’t see the necessity to make you leave work early for something I could handle.”
“You’re not her father!” John said between his teeth.
“It’s as if I was!” Sherlock replied in the same hurried tone. Then the lights dimmed and the curtains opened.
“The show is starting.”
“It’s not over Sherlock, we’re going to have a conversation about this.”
“Fine, now pay attention, Rosie is about to walk on stage.”
[~~~~~~~~]
“Daddy! You came !” Rosie jumped into John’s arms.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, love.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Did you like it?” She asked, jumping down and going to Sherlock for a hug. John was still a little mad at Sherlock but he couldn’t help feeling fond when he saw him interact with his daughter.
“You were perfect, princess,” Sherlock said hugging her tightly.
“Can we go for ice cream?” She asked excitedly.
“Sure, you deserve it for the performance that you made.” John laughed.
They were about to leave when someone called after them.
“Mr. Watson,” Both, John and Sherlock turned as the headmaster walked over to them.
“So good to see you again Mr. Watson," She said to Sherlock, holding out her hand for a handshake, "especially in circumstances where Rosie isn’t involved in troubles.”
Rosie bit her lip, afraid of her father’s reaction.
“Likewise.” The genius replied with a fake smile.
The woman then turned to meet John, “I'm sorry, I’m afraid we haven’t met yet.”
John took a step closer and hold out his hand, “John Watson.” he introduced himself.
“Oh so you are the other M. Watson, I see. Glad to finally meet you.” She smiled.
John tried to give a nonchalant smile but it turned out more like a grimace, “Indeed. And you must be the one who deals with his daughter," He said pointing at Sherlock, "when she’s in trouble.” John tried to joke.
“Oh, so she's my daughter when in trouble?” Sherlock asked indignantly.
“Well apparently yes, since you're always the one who's called by the school,” John responded.
“Point taken.” Sherlock conceded. The headmaster chuckled at them bickering like an old married couple.
“Well, It was nice to meet you. You are a lovely couple. I have to go talk to other parents, until next time.” She waved a goodbye and walked over to the other side of the room.
[~~~~~~~~]
That night, after the play, they ate at Angelo’s and had ice cream like promised to Rosie’s big delight. She then fell asleep in the ride home because of the whole excitement she had endured all day.
John took her in his arms and put her to bed. He kissed her forehead and walked down to meet Sherlock who had his eyes closed, being in deep thought in the kitchen. He put the kettle on and crossed his arms as he leaned across the counter.
“Are we going to talk about this?” He finally spoke.
Sherlock took a deep breath.
“Really, John, I don’t see why I should apologize. I did what I thought was the best. You didn’t respond to your phone the first time, clearly busy, so I went and pretend to be her dad, yes. No big deal. Plus you were at work, and I was free. Why disturb you when I could fill in perfectly? I know her as much as you do since I live with her too, so I think I have parental duties towards her even though I haven’t the title officially.”
“Sherlock…”
“Besides she didn’t object, she loves me like a father and you have to accept the fact that even if we both tried to prevent it she has grown attached to me and sees me as a father figure as much as you.”
“I never wanted to prevent that. It just took me by surprise. She never brought that up. Not to me anyway.”
“She did talked to me about it.”
“Really?”
“She asked questions, why we weren’t a proper family.”
“What did you say?”
“That grown ups are complicated.”
“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” John leaned back, sighing. He ran a hand through his hair.
After a few moment of silence, Sherlock asked, “Does it bother you?”
“It doesn’t. I knew it would eventually happen someday.”
“Why did you let it happen? Why did you never date, after Mary? Re-build your life? Have another kid, leave Baker street?”
“Baker Street is home, I couldn’t imagine myself living anywhere else.” John came closer and sat in the chair in front of Sherlock at the kitchen table, “I guess the truth of me never going back to dating is because I didn’t see the need of it.”
Sherlock knitted his eyebrows. John sighed, and took Sherlock’s hand, resting on the table, in his own.
“What I’m trying to say is that it’s the two of us against the rest of the world, you and I taking care of Rosie, I don’t need anybody else. Only you.”
Sherlock felt his breath catch in his throat, his pulse was pumping incredibly fast in his veins, John was still holding delicately his hand as if afraid Sherlock would break.
John stroke his thumb lightly over the back of Sherlock's hand and finally intertwined his fingers with his.
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Sherlock said hoarsely, not recognizing his own voice.
“I was a coward, afraid of rejection. If your friendship was all I was going to get then so be it. I couldn’t risk losing you. Especially after the way I treated you, I deserved it. I still don’t know how you could forgive me for all I did to you after Mary’s death.” John's hold tightened on Sherlock’s hand.
“You were in grief.” Sherlock supplied.
“Still, I shouldn’t have beat you up, I shouldn’t have put the guilt on you. It wasn’t your fault. I was mine.”
Sherlock stood up and walked around the table. He stood behind John still sitting and wrapped his arms around his shoulders and hugged him.
“Don't be so harsh on yourself. It’s in the past, you have to let it go.” He said dropping his chin on the top of John’s head. He smoothed his hands over John’s pectorals and stomach in a reassuring gesture.
“I can’t forget it, though,” John said.
“You must if you want to move on.” Sherlock couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling John’s hair, smelling his scent.
It was a mixed of John’s own musk, disinfectant from the surgery, his aftershave with a spark of Earl grey’s tea. In short, irresistible. His scent was comforting yet attractive. His shampoo was intoxicating, it smelled delicious and Sherlock only wish at that moment was to lean down and kiss John, from the shell of his ear, down his jaw and neck till his right shoulder. He had been waiting years for this to happen, yet he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Suddenly, John was on his feet, and his hands were on Sherlock’s face, He yanked the genius to him and crashed his mouth against his, fiercely, has if he was starving.
Sherlock responded immediately, opening his lips, letting their tongues move together, angrily, frustrated for all the years lost pining over each other. They kissed each other passionately, never wanting to let it go.
Sherlock moaned at the feeling of John’s tongue exploring his mouth. His taste was electrifying.
“Sorry,” John breathed out, leaning his forehead against Sherlock’s. John’s lips were millimeters from his, the genius could actually feel his words on his lips, “I’ve just wanted to do this for so long.” Sherlock could literally taste how sweet his breath was, “Having you so close yet so far away all these years. How could I be so blind.”
“John,” Sherlock croaked, his body had turned numb, he couldn’t feel anything besides John. John’s hands on his face, John's chest pressed against his, John’s air surrounding him, John lips ghosting over his.
“You are so patient with me.” John whispered as Sherlock rubbed his nose against his, “What have I ever done to deserve you?” John asked with his eyes closed.
“Everything.” Sherlock panted, crashing his lips into his once again, pulling him closer, his hand traveled from John’s neck up to his hair stroking his cheek on the way.
Sherlock gave in to his wants and alternatively bite and sucked John’s bottom lip, which earned him a growl from the blond doctor, whose reply was to kiss him deeper, pulling him closer, pressing his pelvis against Sherlock's.
They pulled back a few moments later and studied each other expressions. Their eyes were mirroring each other, dark and full of lust. John’s tongue came out to lick his upper lip which only made Sherlock hungrier for what was to come.
“We-maybe we should-em-move to, em.”
“Have I made Sherlock Holmes lose his focus?” John said in a heavy breath, grinning. He then took Sherlock’s hand and guided him to his bedroom or from now on, ‘theirs’.
[~~~~~~~~]
“So Alice in Wonderland or Peter Pan?”
“Peter Pan !” The little girl squealed, excited, jumping on her bed.
“Alright, alright, calm down. Get under the covers and lay back or you’ll never fall asleep .”
Rosie did as she was told and draw her teddy bear close to her chest as she nuzzled against her pillow.
Sherlock sat down beside her on the bed wrapping an arm around her as the girl flushed closer to his side.
“What was your favourite tale when you were like me?” she asked when Sherlock was fully seated.
“Well, I was pretty much into pirates at your age, everything related would have had me interested.”
“Aren’t pirates supposed to be mean?” The little girl asked. “Captain Hook is bad with the lost boys and Peter.”
“Not all of them are mean,” Sherlock smiled, kissing the top of her head. “I, for example, am a very nice one.” That made the little girl giggle.
“You’re not a pirate, dad!” Rosie said.
Being designated by Rosie as dad was still a surprise for Sherlock. He hadn’t quite get used to it yet.
“I am the most troublesome pirate that may cross your path!” Sherlock told her, starting tickling her.
“No! Not that,” Rosie laughed trying to get out of Sherlock’s grip and ticklish hands, “Dad! Help! DAD!” She cried out, laughing harder by the second.
“Am I hearing someone crying out for help?” John's head popped out of the bedroom door, smiling.
“Help me! I’m being attacked by a pirate !” His daughter laughed.
“Are you now?” John teased, He then turned to the said 'pirate', “Sherlock, I thought you were supposed to put her to bed not get her overexcited.”
Sherlock stopped and Rosie tried to get her breath back to normal, her belly hurting from laughing so much.
“I’m not, quite the opposite, I’m tiring her up.” Sherlock argued, “and we’ve just finished choosing which bedtime story we were going to read tonight.” Sherlock told John showing the book's cover.
“Peter Pan?” John read out loud, reading the title, “Don’t you know that story by heart by now Rosie?” He asked.
“No, besides it’s a classic and dad is very good at reading bedtime stories, He does all types of different voices for each character, it’s very funny."
“I’m sure he is a great storyteller,” John agreed, “Don’t stay up too late, though, tomorrow’s a school day,” John said, giving his daughter a good night kiss on the forehead. He then moved to give a quick peck on Sherlock’s lips and left the two of them to their story.
“Good night Daddy, sleep well. I love you.” Rosie called out as John reached the door.
“Love you too, sweetheart.” He said looking over his shoulder.
John stayed a few seconds at Rosie’s bedroom door, smiling at the two people he loved and cared about most in the world.
[~~~~~~~~]
Once Sherlock was done putting Rosie to bed, he descended the stairs and entered the bedroom. Now their bedroom.
Initially When John moved back in, they decided to make 221C Sherlock’s bedroom since he didn’t sleep most of the time and it could work also as his office since John had forbidden him to stick up murder scenes’ photographs on the living room wall, where Rosie could walk in at any time of the day.
So Sherlock’s room became John’s. At first the ex-army doctor had refused but Sherlock with good arguments changed his mind and John finally gave in.
Now it was their bedroom, John smiled to himself. He wasn’t used to the title yet, but he very much liked it.
Sherlock came back into the room after a quick trip to the bathroom and then joined John on their bed. He really liked that denomination. He was lying on his left side facing away, when he felt Sherlock’s body shift on the mattress. Then he felt Sherlock’s lean body curled up against John’s back, breathing in his sent. Chest flush against John’s back, an arm wrapped itself around John’s middle and their legs mingle together. John let out a happy sigh and leaned back into the embrace.
One word could describe what he was feeling now : Happiness.