These next couple of chapters will be based on songs. Cause I have a playlist that has a tonne of songs in it and I want to write stories around all of them.
By the way, I dislike children as I lived next to a preschool, so sorry if the writing for Rosie isn't how a child would act. If I ever write her in the future, that same rule applies.
Okay so 'Everything' by Michael Bublé is a song that my dad used to play for me when I was a child, and it's a beautiful song. So here ya go :)
Again, I know nothing about children
3rd Person P.O.V
Rosie was crying again. Not because she was an upset infant – she was almost 6 years old now – but because she was tired. She didn't want to go to bed until her dad got home, which left her father completely clueless as to what to do.
"Can you please stop crying? Your dad will be home soon." He was trying; he still wasn't very good at verbally communicating with her.
"But I want him to be here now!"
Sherlock looked up from his experiment (burning away the nails on a hand of a murdered farmer to see what's under them) and sauntered over to the crying child. He sighed, sitting beside her in John's armchair and hoisting her onto his lap.
"I want him to be here, too. But he isn't. And he'll be back very soon."
"Pa?"
"Yes?"
"When are you and Dad going to get married?"
Sherlock couldn't help but smile. He hugged her closer to him and she giggled into his coat.
"Well, one of us has to ask first."
Rosie looked up and sat back in her father's arms.
"Are you going to ask? Or is Dad going to ask?"
"I don't know, My Dear Watson. I would imagine your dad would ask, but I cannot predict the future."
"But Dad said you did predict the future! He says you're a geenee-us!"
Sherlock held back a laugh, amused at Rosie's pronunciation of the word 'genius'. Then, he sighed happily, thinking about John calling him a genius. He and John had been raising Rosie together for about 4 ½ years now, and they had been a couple for 3 years, 2 months and 15 days.
Not that Sherlock was counting.
Rosie didn't have many memories of her mother, as she was barely functioning when Mary was alive. Sherlock was the next best thing in Rosie's eyes. She had always loved Sherlock, and he was glad that that hadn't changed as she grew older. She immediately accepted him as her other father, calling him 'Pa'. The nickname was her choice, and it came out of nowhere. But, of course, it stuck. She didn't know any different now. She did question where her mum went but was too young to fully grasp what had happened. When she was older, she would understand.
John and Sherlock never actually had to tell her that they were a couple. When they first got together, they didn't know what to tell her.
Until Father's Day, when Rosie was 4.
*
She gave them both a card that said 'Happy Father's Day'. John's was addressed to 'Dad' and Sherlock's was addressed to 'Pa'. The cards were, of course, riddled with spelling errors and adorable drawings, and they both were now stuck on the fridge.
"You are the bestest dads ever!" She yelled, spinning around the loungeroom before racing over to hug them both.
"We do try, My Dear Watson."
"Yes, we do." John smiled up at his boyfriend, then down at his daughter. He picked her up and spun her around, then passed her to Sherlock.
"I wuv you guys!"
"We love you too, Rosie." John smiled, kissing her on the head. Sherlock smiled at John, wanting to kiss him. He wanted to make John feel loved.
So, that's exactly what he did.
Still, with their daughter in his arms, he leaned over to his partner and kissed his cheek. John didn't react the way Sherlock thought he would. Sherlock thought John would get embarrassed or angry. Instead, he chuckled and wrapped his arm and Sherlock's shoulders.
Rosie cheered, glad to see her dads happy.
Turns out, she always thought they were a couple.
*
"Now, I may be good. But I won't predict the future. However, I do know that your dad will be home any minute. There's no need to cry."
She pouted up at her father and shook her head.
"I miss him."
"I miss him, too."
In truth, John had only been out for about an hour, but that didn't stop his daughter or his boyfriend from missing him.
Sherlock didn't have a lot of options. So, he decided to turn to something that was guaranteed to calm her down; music.
"Calm down, my Dear Watson."
Sherlock took his phone out of his pocket, opened iTunes and pressed play on a song that was sure to calm down his crying child.
You're a falling star, you're the getaway car
You're the line in the sand when I go too far
You're the swimming pool on an August day
And you're the perfect thing to say
And you play it coy, but it's kinda cute
Oh, when you smile at me, you know exactly what you do
The child looked up at him and grinned. She sat forward on his lap, and he wrapped his long arm around her protectively.
"Listen to the words, my Dear Watson." She nodded happily, snuggling into his embrace.
Baby, don't pretend that you don't know it's true
'Cause you can see it when I look at you
And in this crazy life
And through these crazy times
It's you, it's you, you make me sing
You're every line, you're every word
You're everything
John was home. He had closed the front door behind him, said hello to Mrs Hudson, and was now making his way up the stairs to 221B. He heard music coming from the flat, but not violin music. He made his way slowly to the door, opening it very slightly. He looked through the crack in the door, not expecting the sight before him.
You're a carousel, you're a wishing well
And you light me up when you ring my bell
You're a mystery, you're from outer space
You're every minute of my every day
And I can't believe, uh, that I'm your man
And I get to kiss you, baby, just because I can
Sherlock squeezed Rosie tighter and she giggled. John's smile widened, and he was so happy that he didn't even notice the tears rolling down his face.
Whatever comes our way, oh, we'll see it through
And you know that's what our love can do
And in this crazy life
And through these crazy times
It's you, it's you, you make me sing
You're every line, you're every word
You're everything
Someone loved John's child just as much as John did. Ever since Mary passed, John was terrified that Rosie would grow up with questions. Questions that he was too afraid to answer. Thank god for Sherlock he thought, smiling at his boyfriend who was hugging his- their daughter. He couldn't believe how lucky he had gotten.
And in this crazy life
And through these crazy times
It's you, it's you, you make me sing
You're every line, you're every word
You're everything
You're every song, and I sing along
'Cause you're my everything
Sherlock turned his phone off and hugged the little girl closer to his chest. She giggled and, at that moment, had forgotten about her dad's absence and about how sad she had been.
John took a deep breath and pushed open the front door. Sherlock and Rosie both looked over at him, and both of their faces lit up.
"Dad!" Rosie cried, jumping out of Sherlock's arms. She ran over to her dad and gripped his leg. He patted her head and laughed heartily at her sudden change in behaviour.
"Hey kiddo. Has she been good?" John asked, looking over at his boyfriend, who was walking towards him.
"Perfectly fine." Sherlock nodded, leaning down to kiss his partner. "Welcome home."
"A very welcome indeed." John smiled, looking between Sherlock and their daughter.
Finally. The one thing John had wished for came true; a truly, happy family. With his beautiful daughter and the man he had always loved.
"Hey, um, Sherlock?"
"Yes?"
"Can I talk to you?'
"Yes, of course."
Rosie ran upstairs to her bedroom, giving her dads space to talk.
"You're amazing, you know that?" John whispered, smiling as the taller man wrapped him in a hug.
"You tell me all the time, so it must be true."
They shared a laugh, and John looked up at the beautiful man who's arms he was safely wrapped in.
"I want to ask you something, and I need you to promise that you'll be able to function afterward."
"I can't promise that." Sherlock smirked, pushing his face into John's neck.
"Fine. Just... stop that, you're distracting me!"
"Hmm." Sherlock sat down on the couch, pulling John onto his lap.
Rosie peeked her head out of her bedroom so she could hear what her dads were saying.
"Sherlock, I'll skip all the sappy stuff cause I know you don't need it. I love you, and I will never be able to repay you for how much you have done for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, if you'll have me..." John moved to get on one knee at the detective's feet, and pulled a ring box out of his jacket pocket, "Sherlock Holmes, will you marry me?"
Sherlock was frozen. All he could do was stare at the love of his life, and slowly feel a smile creep onto his face.
He nodded, and that was the moment Rosie raced downstairs and started cheering. Her dads, that she loved so much, were going to get married. She waited for John to place the ring on Sherlock's finger, then she ran forward for a hug from both of them.
"Yay! You are getting married! Can I be the flower girl?" She spun around excitedly, her words spilling out like a waterfall of joy.
"Of course you can, my Dear Watson." Sherlock smiled, taking his daughter in his arms. He thought for a moment, then turned to his grinning fiancé.
"John?"
"Yes, love?"
"I want to take your last name."
John stayed staring at his fiancé for a moment, thinking about what to say next.
"Rosie?"
"Yes, Dad?"
"Can you go to see Mrs Hudson, please?"
"Yep!" Sherlock placed Rosie back on the ground, and she skipped downstairs to see 'Grandma'.
"Did I... did I do something wrong?" Sherlock was worried. John never broke his serious voice or eye contact with Sherlock whilst he spoke to Rosie. Sherlock was worried he had messed up.
He didn't have much time to dwell on it, however, because in no time he was being dragged towards their bedroom by his collar.
He decided he liked being engaged.