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Sherlock and John and Rosie (and Mrs. Hudson too)	By : GizmoTrinket Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 4625 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock in any iteration, BBC or otherwise. I make no money from this work in any way, shape or form

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: Warnings and Prompts in end notes. Contains ch 6.2-9 found on AO3. John POV
Chapter 6: About Time
++++
----Sherlock POV----
Now, sitting on the edge of the bed, Sherlock wondered if the collar he had would fit the dog too. John hadn't looked intrigued when he saw the lead. Just scared. So that particular kink wouldn't be satisfied until at least the seventh time they had sex and brunette could warm the conservative man to the idea. 'Then again,' Sherlock thought, 'John doesn't have a gag reflex... so it might take less time than I think.' He considered that. 'It's probably just the lead. I imagine the collar would be fine. I can live with that.'
The younger man was interested in trying to take matters into his own hand again and figured John would be gone long enough that he could. Not wanting to masturbate in front of his baby, be caught in John's room or by Mrs. Hudson in the living room Sherlock went into the bathroom and, after a moment of consideration, locked both doors. The door to the bedroom was glass so he'd still be able to hear the infant if she cried.
It was John's turn to top and he wanted to play. Sherlock was more than amendable. "Come here."
John's pet hastened to obey.
"No." John smacked the riding crop against the bed. "On your knees or I use this on you."
'Oh, yes please.' Sherlock thought.
"Or I can use my cane you little pain slut."
Sherlock winced and dropped to his knees. The riding crop was perfect, the cane a little too much. He crawled over to his master.
Or wait? Should he make this a military fantasy? Call John sir? No, this was working. Sherlock dropped to his knees, the hard floor adding to his fantasy.
He crawled over, resting his head against the inside of John's thigh.
"Good boy." John ran his fingers through his pet's hair, scratching the scalp gently and causing Sherlock to shiver. "You want your collar?"
Sherlock nodded.
"You'll have to earn it." John kept the button of his jeans fastened but pulled his hard 9 inch prick out of his zip. "Suck."
When Sherlock obeyed, licking around the shaft before taking the tip into his mouth, then worked his way down.
Sherlock's master became harder with the stimulation and grew. "Touch yourself." The blond ordered.
The brunette took fully hard erection out and wrapped his hand around it. He started pulling without bothering to use anything as lube. He wouldn't last long if he was this excited just from his thoughts.
John grabbed the back of Sherlock's head and forced his erection down his pet's throat.
The brunette relaxed, lips covering his teeth and concentrated on breathing in between thrusts. Fisting his cock faster as John fucked his mouth. His master changed the angle, rammed him particularly deeply, Sherlock started choking and-
-came in his hand all over the bathroom floor. He panted for a few seconds before grabbing some toilet paper and cleaning up before any drops could fall on his trousers. Then he used a wet flannel to clean the mess on the tiles.
He put himself away and sat back to rest. It hadn't been perfect and John would never consider whipping him let alone caning him in real life (or maybe even sleeping with him now that the doctor had all those scars) but god that had been good.
++++
----John's POV----
When John returned he was damp from rain. He shook out his coat and ran his hand through his hair.
"No fine?" Sherlock must have known the dog was down with Mrs. Hudson.
"Shut it." John blushed at the mention that he'd forgotten baggies. He left the living room to make tea. "You ok?" He called from the other room.
"Why?"
John set the kettle to boil and came back.
"You're a bit red."
The brunette blushed deeper. "Fine, John." He bit the inside of his lips, something the blond found adorable. He'd noticed the consulting detective never had chapped lips like John sometimes did.
"I should-" the both started to say they'd check on the baby and stepping toward Sherlock and Rosie's room. The kettle clicked off, John went to get the tea and the taller man fled.
When Sherlock returned it was with Rosamund in his arms.
'Well,' the shorter man figured, 'might as well get it out of the way.' "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Sherlock." John warned.
The brunette huffed. "I'm not a mind reader, John."
"Why..." The blond felt his hand clench and tried to reign in his temper. "Why did you get those? Those papers?" Mentally he continued, 'Why didn't you show them to me sooner? Why were you hiding them? Did you ever want me to see them?'
"A child should have two parents, just in case. I thought..." he absentmindedly played with Rosie's charm "I thought she'd need another guardian."
"But why Molly?" John asked. 'Why not you?'
Sherlock looked confused. "Because she's a woman. Obviously."
John sighed. "I already told you I have no issues with you."
"Well that's not true. You hate how I-"
"Jesus Christ, Sherlock, shut up! Stop!" The older of the two demanded. "What will it take? When will you get it through your thick scull that I love you? Just you. And just the way you are. Is that such a difficult concept?"
John caught a glimpse of Sherlock's face before he turned and hid it. It was clear that it was more difficult than the doctor could imagine.
'Fine.' The army captain thought. 'I'll just prove it.' He stomped over to the lanky git and threw a punch.
Sherlock leaned into it, body curling around Rosie protectively. "Ungh." He grunted when John's fist connected with his arm.
"See?"
The git drew up to his full height. "See what? What the hell are you doing, John?! You could have hurt-!"
He was interrupted when John grabbed the collar of the tall man's posh shirt and yanked, forcing the brunette to bend over. The shorter man mashed their lips together, careful of their daughter between them.
John reached down to Rosie's head and she gave a startled cry.
As expected, Sherlock freed himself as quickly as he could while maintaining a careful hold on his daughter. "John!" He looked positively scandalized.
John started giggling. When the indignity refused to fade from Sherlock's expression John's giggles evolved into full blown laughter. "Oh, my God! Your face!" The reminder of that case did nothing to sober him. However, the reminder of how short life could be did. John took out the paper and ripped it in half before throwing it into the fireplace.
"John?"
"Where's the other one you git?"
"What?"
John smiled, "The one you got for our anniversary."
The consulting detective brightened. "You remembered?"
"I counted the day after, honestly. Didn't know we were celebrating though. Never did before."
Sherlock made a face.
"Oh." John realized. "You tried, didn't you?"
Sherlock winced. "Only once."
The mood turned sombre. John remembered he'd been so worked up about The Woman he hadn't even noticed. He didn't even remember what Sherlock tried to do that day. If he were to be honest with himself he didn't remember much of what happened before Sherlock faked his suicide. John had tried to block it all out while Sherlock was gone all those years. Then the doctor had Mary. John figured Sherlock wouldn't have tried when Mary was there. Would he?
It seemed far too insensitive a question for John to ask. Thankfully Rosie saved her father by crying.
"Have you fed her?" John asked at the same time Sherlock said, "She's hungry."
John knew Sherlock had charts and notes stashed everywhere noting everything about Rosamund; what each cry meant, her weight taken every day when she woke after her nappy change while her bottle heated, which formula she preferred when (and the various cries that each corresponded to, that one was still ongoing), which shampoo she liked best (they now had seventy-four bottles of hypo-allergenic unscented baby shampoo in various brands and would have more had John not put his foot down) and Rosie's reactions to everyone she met. The blond knew the baby liked Sherlock more. It probably should have bothered him but it didn't. John knew Rosie slept in Sherlock's room because Sherlock couldn't stand to be away from her. The two had formed some sort of bond; as if Sherlock were her real father. So, while Sherlock was preparing a bottle and talking to Rosie in his rumbling baritone about how she was lucky to have John for a father John left the flat again.
Contrary to popular belief John wasn't an idiot. He was just always compared to people who were superhuman. John knew he was decently smart because he was a doctor. Plus, if he wasn't Sherlock wouldn't bother with him. At first John thought the brunette just liked the attention but when Sherlock came back Anderson had a near meltdown, calling him repeatedly. Eventually the man came to John to get the restraining order lifted. John wasn't in a friendly mood then and he'd slammed the door in Anderson's face. But now John understood that it wasn't just John's compliments Sherlock liked.
It was still raining so John ducked into Speedy's. He pulled out his mobile and dialled. "Hello? Mycroft? Yes, I've got it."
----
'Where did he get off? Where did that prick get off getting me papers to have Molly be Rosie's legal guardian?' John didn't want to take the papers out again and risk losing them to water damage. Because it wasn't a horrible idea. Sure, the baptism ceremony was nice but naming someone a godparent wasn't the same as filling out legal paperwork.
'But, why Molly?' John knew the only way he'd get an answer would be talking to the man himself. However, talking to Sherlock about raising his baby (hopefully with him) brought up the question that had been on John's mind since the wedding. He couldn't ask Sherlock to raise a baby, to make him a guardian of someone he already cared for so much if Rosamund would leave one day. It wasn't right. Sure, Mycroft could probably pull some strings but that wouldn't be fair to Rosie's actual father (assuming said man wasn't John).
John found shelter under an awning and allowed the dog to wrap the lead around his legs. The blond took out his mobile and called Mycroft. Mike was nice but even though Mike already knew John's suspicions and they had a plan John couldn't place his friend in that position now that he was thinking clearly. Mycroft could be trusted not to lie and probably had already done the test. If Rosie wasn't John's Mycroft would be John's best bet to come up with a solution that wouldn't emotionally scar Sherlock. Plus John could ask about Sherlock's physical scars. The elder brother was the one who brought Sherlock back; he had to know what happened.
----A Week Later----
"Doctor Watson I'm sure you're aware I've already run the tests but I think it would be better if you watched the procedure so you know the outcome and that there were no mistakes made. I will send my personal doctor to attend to this matter. I assure you you're in the best hands."
----
A black car pulled up and John hopped in.
"You really should check who is inside you know. I understand you've been kidnapped this way before."
John jumped in surprise, "Molly?"
"I'm to do the test." She smiled a new smile at John. It suited her.
The blond wondered why he never considered her to run the test. It was obvious, really. Sherlock cared about her so she was under Mycroft's protection. Why shouldn't she do the test? Hell, she'd probably be more honest and less of a manipulative prick about the whole thing if Rosie turned out to be someone else's.
"I take it you're surprised." Molly said flatly when John was quiet for a moment too long.
"Just didn't expect you to be in one of Mycroft's cars is all." John lied.
Molly shook her head. "You really are a horrible liar."
"Sorry, I just don't really-"
"See me as a person? Yes, that happens a lot." She snarled at him.
John knew he'd messed up but he wasn't sure how. Molly was usually a lot more easy going and accommodating. "If you're busy I can do the test myself..." John tried, thinking maybe she was doing something important for Mycroft and upset she'd been pulled away for something so menial.
"I'm sure you can, after a few tries. I'm not sure you'd be able to work the equipment we have after being out of the field for so long."
"Hey now, I'm still a doctor."
"Oh, please. You fix the sniffles. When was the last time you've run a DNA test?"
John pursed his lips. Sure, what she said was true, but it still rankled. "Never." He admitted. If he was supposed to run one in uni he'd skipped that day.
"Well, this is going to be complicated and you'd never do it right. We don't have an infinite number of samples and you will just think you'd run the test wrong."
"Why?" John asked. He felt chilled, even though he suspected he wasn't the father he believed he was. He just didn't know that until just now.
"You'll see." Molly said cryptically.
They spent the rest of the car ride in silence.
----
"Why are we here?" John asked as Molly just got out of the car and waited by the gate.
"Because we need some of Mary's DNA." She answered when he joined her.
Oh, god. John suspected he knew where this was going and Mycroft was right, he did need to see the test run.
----
The blond paced as he waited by the machine. Molly ignored him and spent all her time on her phone. Huffing at incoming messages but never replying. Finally her phone rang and she took the call into the hall.
After a few shouts and the sound of a mobile shattering Molly returned and asked to borrow John's phone.
John didn't want his phone broken but he remembered Sherlock's black eye and handed it over without protest.
"My, I need a new mobile."
The short man felt like his eyes were about to fall out of his head and the world had tilted on its axis.
"Thanks, hon." She ended the call and handed John's phone back with an innocent smile.
John was terrified.
----
At worst the blond doctor thought that maybe Mary stole the child from the hospital and had never been pregnant at all. Unlikely, he was a doctor. But possible. Of course, John was wrong. John was always wrong.
Mary wasn't the mother. John was the father but Mary wasn't the mother. She'd had in vitro done and John never noticed. However, the biological mother was dead so there were no concerns about a woman showing up and demanding Rosie. There was just one problem...
----
"Who is she, Mycroft?"
"Our sister."
"Sherlock doesn't have any sisters. Only brothers and Sherrinford is dead. So what the hell do you think you're playing at?!"
"It would be best if Sherlock told you."
"Wha-"
The line went dead.
----
Said mother was Sherlock's sister.
When John returned this time he didn't remember anything Molly said. He didn't remember getting in the black car. He didn't remember the ride back.
The only thing John could think was that Sherlock only had brothers. So, why was there suddenly a sister? And what happened to her?
"John?"
Apparently John had walked up the seventeen steps in the same fog. "Sorry... I..." He fell sideways into the wall.
Sherlock caught him before he slid onto the floor.
"Are you alright?"
'Yes, but you won't be.' John thought. This would be the final straw. Sherlock hated his brother for what he did to their sister (and Mycroft wouldn't tell John what, exactly, that was). The doctor really didn't have the heart to talk about it.
"Come here. Are you alright?"
John knew then, that Sherlock had no idea why the blond was upset. The consulting detective probably had no idea his sister had ever donated eggs let alone had them stolen. And if he didn't know that he wouldn't know that Mary carried the child and said child was living in their flat now.
In a twisted way John was thrilled. It was wrong, so wrong but there was a part of Sherlock in the baby and a part of John and he couldn't think of anything better. He loved Mary, he did. And he wasn't done grieving for her. But John didn't love her the way he loved the man helping him up the steps to his bedroom.
Once they were through the door John threw Sherlock onto his bed. The consulting detective was caught off guard but it didn't take a genius to figure out what was going to happen next.
John flung himself at the other man and started kissing him desperately.
++++
"Oh, John!" Sherlock gasped when the blond started palming him through his trousers. Sherlock looked at John like he was the sun and Sherlock never expected to be lucky enough make it through the night to ever see him again.
John slowed and started kissing the brunette tenderly. John carefully adjusted his position so Sherlock could rut against his thigh if he wanted to (he did). While they snogged Sherlock moved back until he was entirely on the bed and John followed. Lips chasing lips with small pecks, tiny bites and tender caresses. It had been an emotionally draining day.
"God, I love you." John sighed into Sherlock's mouth when they broke apart to breathe.
"I love you too John." Sherlock's eyes were watery but neither of them mentioned it because John's were too.
John leaned back on his knees between Sherlock's legs and kissed Sherlock's knuckles as the blond slowly undid the buttons to the brunette's cuffs.
"John." Sherlock's chin twitched as he whispered the other man's name.
John started undoing the buttons down the front of Sherlock's shirt.
Sherlock pulled John into another kiss and they tangled tongues. Sherlock flipped them so he was on top and he ground their hips together. "I love you, I love you. God John, I love you so much." He chanted every time they broke apart.
John worked Sherlock's buttons until he could slide his arms around his friend, best friend turned lover. He felt the scars littering the brunette's back and Sherlock froze, worried John would stop or ask him about them. John did neither he just analyzed by feel. He knew Sherlock would tell him one day when he was ready. John knew he didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve Sherlock. The man who had a huge heart. The man who cared so much but always kept it hidden. John might have trust issues but Sherlock had more. Based on the small amount of Sherlock's life he'd witnessed the man had good reason.
Soon Sherlock's shoes, socks and trousers were off, just leaving tented pants. John was in the same condition. Sherlock stood to grab a condom from the bedside drawer (John wanted to ask if Sherlock had been rummaging around up here again but didn't) when some jangling interrupted.
The dog walked in and panted, smiling at them.
"Gladstone, out." Sherlock waved his hand at the door.
"Gladstone?" John asked.
"Yes, John. We have a new pet."
John shrugged. He knew the dog must have a microchip. He would take the little beast to the vet and make sure the owner didn't want him back.
"Gladstone, out!" The brunette man waved his hand again, this time with more force.
The dog glared at Sherlock but left.
Sherlock closed the door.
They'd gone and gotten a baby monitor four pack so they didn't have to worry about running and grabbing one every time they left a room. Mrs. Hudson even had one, just in case. They'd rely on that one tonight (at least until they'd finished).
John opened his arms when Sherlock turned around and Sherlock smiled softly, the tender look reaching his eyes. The expression as unfamiliar as it was welcome. It suited him. He looked blissfully happy. John vowed to do things to have that look on his lover's face every day.
Sherlock came to the blond, reaching out for him and they hugged. Sherlock turned the hug into something less intimate by licking John's neck. Seeking out all those spots he'd previously discovered. This time he was gentle when he sucked small marks into John's skin. John didn't bruise easily but Sherlock was persistent, using every tool at his disposal. Rotating though licking, biting and sucking as he saw fit. The omnipotence would have been odd in someone else but John almost expected it from the hyper-observant man. Sherlock knew each time John needed him to be gentler or rougher, each time he needed Sherlock to move onto another spot. And his hands! They roamed, seeking spots around John's body. Discovering that John's nipples were too sensitive to do more than brush over, that John liked being played with through his pants, liked being played with when Sherlock freed his cock from his the confines even more.
"Fuck!" John arched off the bed as Sherlock's fingers did something he'd never felt before and had no idea how to replicate. He saw stars and it wasn't even an orgasm.
Sherlock rolled a condom on and started licking.
"Oh, oh, OH!"
The other man seemed to always know when to tighten his grip around the base, where to lick and how fucking sexy it was when he hollowed his cheeks and looked into John's eyes.
"Fuck! God, Sher-ah-lock!" John resisted putting his hand on the brunette's head, it would be too much for his self control to not just push him down and start choking him.
Sherlock couldn't get all of John's penis in his mouth but that was ok, John hadn't had a lover who could yet and the top part was the most sensitive part anyway. However, it seemed to be frustrating the brunette. After a moment Sherlock pulled off and panted, working his jaw.
"Sorry."
Sherlock looked appalled. "For what?"
"I know I'm a little-"
"Little isn't the correct word here, John."
"Shut up you arse!" John chuckled awkwardly; he knew what the problem was.
But the younger of the pair's lips moved to the side as he stared at John's member. "I don't know; I wasn't expecting the girth."
John was intrigued. "Did you deduce my cock and get it wrong?"
"I'm never wrong, John. I just miss things sometimes."
John laughed at Sherlock's expression. "I love you, you arrogant prick." He started getting off the bed but a lithe arm wrapped around his waist stopping him. John turned back and Sherlock's expression was closed off and heartbreaking. "Hey, just going to clean up a little. I wasn't expecting this."
Sherlock's expression warmed and he nodded.
----
When John returned from the loo he stood in the doorway mouth hanging open. "Oh!" he whispered, not wanting to interrupt.
Sherlock was on his back, head facing away from the door; his leg flung over the railing and held there by the bedpost with two of his long elegant fingers stuffed in his arse and was working them in and out with copious amounts of lube. As John watched Sherlock pulled them out, added more lube despite the fact that it was dripping out of him and started going for three. Whenever it started getting uncomfortable he would stop and move his hand expertly around his penis.
John's legs went weak.
Sherlock's cheeks were pink, his mouth was open and he was panting. He was simply pornographic.
If nothing else happened tonight John knew he'd be wanking to this for the rest of his life.
"You going to- ah! -just stand there or are- Oh!"
John nearly tripped on his way over. He had taken the other condom off but was quick about rolling a new one on after watching Sherlock's display. "How do you-?"
"Face to face." Sherlock answered before John could even finish his question. "Want to see you. Want-"
"Yes!" John wanted the same thing.
Sherlock put his leg down and slid up the bed. As John climbed up Sherlock opened his legs wide.
"Fuck." John muttered. He'd never had a lover he cared this much about. Or that was this bloody stunning. "You have to tell me if I hurt you." He said while applying some more lube to the condom.
Sherlock nodded eagerly and dismissively. "Yes, John I'm aware."
John lined up but paused.
"Please!"
"Sorry." John gave Sherlock's penis a few strokes and took a deep breath.
"John?" Sherlock sounded worried.
"Sorry. I've never..." When Sherlock still looked confused John continued. "...done this before." Not wanting to sound like he was too inadequate he continued. "I mean I've never topped. With a man. Or, well, had anal sex with a woman. Before."
"Well you won't now if you don't get on with it." Sherlock growled, impatient.
"Right. Sorry." John stroked himself a little back to full hardness and lined himself up. 'Ok, here goes everything.' He thought and prayed he wasn't going to ruin this by hurting the other man.
"Oooooohhhhh!" Sherlock threw his head back. "Jooooohnnn." He moaned.
John had to resist thrusting all the way in, putting Sherlock's legs over his shoulders and pounding his arse the three times it would take looking at the debauched brunette. He paused, allowing Sherlock time to adjust.
"MOVE!" Sherlock demanded, wrapping his legs around John's waist and trying to force John deeper.
"Demanding." John chastised but didn't deny him. He moved more slowly than the other man wanted. When he was about halfway into the tightest warmth he'd ever experienced Sherlock winced. John stopped and petted Sherlock's curls.
Sherlock wrapped his arms around his doctor and brought the man down for a kiss. They made out a little, being gentle with one another and Sherlock relaxed.
"Ok?" John asked for permission to start moving again. Sherlock nodded. John sat up a little and poured more lube so the next bit would be easier. "Sherlock." John breathed when he bottomed out.
"Oh." Sherlock sounded surprised.
"Sherlock?" John worried he'd done something wrong.
"No, you're fine. I just, it's different."
"Different?"
Sherlock nodded. "Yes. I've never done this with a person. I have a dildo, well a few but..."
"Really?" John was surprised. He figured Sherlock would have tried everything under the sun by now. If for no other reason than to learn and experiment.
Sherlock squeezed his thighs to remind John to move which John did, slowly. After a minute or so Sherlock said, "Never wanted- Ah! -to be this vulnerable beforennNNg!."
John smiled. He would bet Sherlock had no idea what he was saying at this point because the blond had just discovered the angle he needed to brush the brunette's prostate.
"Figured it be the same, or similar. The texture, with the condom." Sherlock interspersed the words with gasps and moans. He adjusted his hips a bit and nearly screamed.
"Fuck." John muttered and picked up the pace.
"I love you, John. I love you. You can't leave. Not again. Never again." Sherlock was leaking and it added to the tacky lubricant on his member.
John knew that would start hurting Sherlock soon, especially with the condom. He resolved to get them both tested as soon as he could. John's balls started smacking Sherlock's ass, making pornographic sounds and Sherlock arched his back. The brunette's penis was rubbing against John's stomach and the extra friction caused him to tighten. It was more than slightly painful, bordering on too much. But...
"...ahhAHHHHHHHHHaah!" The scream was silent at first but was ripped from the brunette halfway through and hurt John's ears.
Sherlock loosened a bit for just a moment when he took a breath and when Sherlock tightened again, another spurt of semen covering their stomachs John was ready. John bit Sherlock's shoulder as he tried to be quieter and wrapped his arms around his, best friend/flatmate/lover/everything and came too.
"Out." Sherlock demanded sleepily.
Even though John wasn't remotely soft yet he obeyed. Though, in an effort not to hurt Sherlock the doctor was probably a little slower than the consulting detective would have preferred.
Sherlock sat up, making a face.
"You ok?"
"Fine, just need to..." He waved a hand. "Clean up. A bit."
John smiled and watched Sherlock's butt wiggle as he grabbed a robe and left the room. The blond wiggled his toes, stretched and smiled.
Sherlock returned with a wet flannel and John cleaned himself up as the taller man curled himself around his lover.
"You ok?" John asked. He had to make sure.
"Mmm." Seeming to realize this wasn't an acceptable answer he said, "Fine. I'll be a little sore tomorrow. Worth it."
John took one look at his lover, completely at peace in a way John had never seen before and agreed.
++++
As they lay on the bed, tangled in each other enjoying the afterglow Sherlock pecked a kiss into the crook of John's neck before nuzzling along John's jugular and falling asleep. It was early still but the blond turned up the volume on the baby monitor and fell asleep too; the taller man's hair tickling John's nose as he snuggled his lanky brilliant consulting detective.
----
Crying woke the couple up. Sherlock was disoriented and John offered to go but Mrs. Hudson beat them both.
"Allow your fathers to sleep, dear. Goodness knows they need it after that." Then it sounded like she whispered directly into the monitor: "Congratulations you idiots. It's about time."
Sherlock was blushing from head to toe and John thought he honestly might die.
----
The blond opened the papers again, to see if the name magically had changed from Molly to Sherlock when a note fell out.
John,
This is the second set of papers my brother ordered. Do try to remember your anniversary next time; it would save my assistant a considerable amount of paperwork.
Mycroft Holmes
It wasn't hard for John to figure out what Mycroft was alluding to. The question of Rosie's paternity felt like a noose ready to be tightened around John's neck, ruining everything.
----
John cleared his throat. "Sherlock?" The man looked at him and John nearly lost his train of thought. 'How can one person be so bloody gorgeous?!' Sherlock's expression turned worried so John asked his question. "What happened to your sister?"
"SISTER?!" Sherlock hissed.
Suddenly it was clear John had somehow made a monumental mistake. Knowing the woman was dead John thought it would be better to just dive right in. Like pulling off a plaster.
"I don't have a sister." Sherlock spat the word like a curse.
"Right."
"What did Fatcroft say? Why did you ask that?!"
The warm fuzzies that were surrounding the couple suddenly froze and died. "Uh... Nothing really." John didn't want to say anything that would make this worse.
"Except that fat idiot said sister."
"Well, yeah. I know about Sherrinford. That he died. What happened to her? Why do-"
"John!" Sherlock looked like he'd been struck. More sombrely he added, "They're the same person."
"Oh." The doctor had to think about it for a second. "Oh!"
"Yes."
"Ohhhhh..." Of all the ways John thought this conversation would go he didn't think it would go this way. Now John had to explain and hopefully after he was done Sherlock wouldn't hate Rosie.
Sherlock started pacing. "Sister. He was always so horrible to him! I can't believe, even now... That... I'm going to kill him." He ranted. "John!" Sherlock turned and demanded, "Get me my harpoon!"
"You're not going to harpoon Mycroft."
"Then get me my gun!"
"Mrs. Hudson had to turn that over as evidence after she used it to kill Moran."
"He ruins everything!" Sherlock claimed of his brother, for at least the fiftieth time that John had heard.
Trying to distract the genius John decided to try a pet name. "Sherl?"
"No. Sounds like Cheryl."
"Right." John was glad his lover had stopped ranting even if he was still pacing. Unsure how to approach the question John decided to just ask outright so there was no confusion. "Is there anything that would make you hate Rosie?"
Sherlock stopped in his tracks. "No." He said decidedly.
He was so firm John didn't think to question him. "I want you to be Rosie's Father. Too. I mean."
"Are you asking me to marry you?"
"I... what?"
They looked at each other with matching expressions of horror.
John had intended to follow that up with a: but there's just one thing you need to know first. 'Good job, Watson. You were clear a mud.'
It was clear that Sherlock's horror was of a different sort so John decided to shelve his problems and deal with the much bigger issue. This one could be a relationship ender if he played it wrong.
"Sherlock, you've said it before, I'm a romantic. If I were proposing to you you'd know it." John winced at the realization that he'd brought up Sherlock's best man's speech in the process.
"Yes, Mary said you were shaving when you threatened her with marriage. A story for the ages if I'd ever heard one."
Bugger. John decided to try and redirect. "I was asking if you wanted to adopt Rosie. You know, be more than just her guardian. But-"
"Why?"
"What?"
Sherlock looked frustrated. "Why me?"
"We've been over this."
"Why, John?" Sherlock pleaded.
Wanting to explain it in a different way John decided to use logic. "Remember when I punched you earlier?"
"Yes."
"Well-"
"Yes, John." Sherlock said with finality.
John realized Sherlock had already understood what John intended to say (I punched you to prove that you'd protect her physically and kissed you to prove you'd protect her mentally which was only partially true) and was agreeing to adopt Rosie. "Yes?"
"For god sakes John!"
"Sorry." John couldn't stop grinning. Even when faced with the important bit of the conversation the smile didn't fade. "But, there's something you should know."
"It won't change my answer."
"It might."
Sherlock picked up his phone, texting and looking bored.
In a fit of pique John blurted, "She's Sherrinford's too."
The mobile clattered to the floor.
----
---
----
"I'm not going to be your personal physician My." Molly frowned.
His face moved slightly into his version of a pout.
"No! We're friends. I'm not going to work for you. Remember when you gave up and demanded that I be your assistant? This is the same thing!" Molly scolded. "And making me find out from John! That was just cruel. Do you have any idea what he was thinking?!"
"He's an idiot. The only reason we tolerate him is he's cute."
Molly giggled.
Donovan came up and handed Mycroft a file before turning and answering a phone.
"How's she working out?" Molly asked quietly. The diminutive doctor was worried that Sally was too opinionated to work for Mycroft and had only mentioned her when Mycroft said he needed someone with a backbone. Sally was smart, untrusting by nature and a hard worker. She also wasn't afraid to tell her boss off when it was warranted. Of course, there were a few talks about when it was appropriate for such conversations to occur.
"She's coming along nicely. She seems happy to get out of the Met. Said that she feels like she's doing important work now and not just fighting sexist pigs for credit."
Molly frowned. "Won't that be a problem? The dealing with sexist pigs?" In Mycroft's line of work it seemed likely that it would come up sooner rather than later.
"Aditi said it was worth it to get to travel."
"She chose Aditi?"
My smiled softly. "I found it appropriate."
Molly made a mental note to look up the meaning later. "I'm glad she's working out."
"Yes." Mycroft frowned. "Now, about your problem with Gregory..."
Molly prayed he had something good. Her boyfriend wasn't happy she was seeing Mycroft so often to begin with. Didn't buy the whole "friends theory" and he was really angry when Donovan left.
A/N: Double cliff hanger bwahahaha!
About Donovan's name: I had a lot of trouble choosing this one. I settled for Aditi because she's another goddess; this time mother to 33 sons (Mycroft's new employees and our loveable couple) instead of a jealous queen to a cheating husband and ruler of all the women. Like many other Hindu gods and goddesses, Aditi has a savari (a mount). Aditi flies across the boundless sky on a rooster. The rooster symbolizes strength and honour. I felt this was appropriate because I think instead of breaking down like Anderson she learned from her mishap with Sherlock and vowed to live honourably from that point. (Not that her actions that led to the fall were really technically dishonourable, she believed she was acting for the best of mankind and used the proper channels to report the issue.) This is why Lestrade kept her on and Mycroft agreed to hire her. Plus she's always been a very strong woman. Her name means "boundless, entire" or "freedom, security" in Sanskrit. Freedom and security being extremely relevant to the job.
Sources: wikipedia and http://www.behindthename.com/names/usage/mythology
Prompts: OTP Idea #707 Bonus: “We have a new pet.” + Imagine Person A’s dog walking in on your OTP making out. These can be found on my writing Tumblr: GizmoTrinket you can watch for story updates on my other Tumblr: TheArtOne & Twitter @gizmotrinket221
Warnings: First smutty part: light D/s masturbation, oral sex, light choking. Second smutty part: Anal sex, oral sex, safe sex. Let me know if I forgot or need to add something.
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Sherlock and John and Rosie (and Mrs. Hudson too)