"What are you doing?" John shouted.
"Baking a cake."
John was standing in the entryway of the kitchen, frozen. Sherlock was in the kitchen, bowl in hand stirring some batter. "The kitchens not destroyed."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Contrary to belief I can cook."
"I wasn't saying that."
"You implied it." Sherlock scoffed.
"Sorry. Why are you making a cake?"
"Because it's Rosie's birthday I thought I would make one. I haven't gotten to use my cooking skills in a long time." Sherlock pointed the spoon at John. "Someone keeps banning me from the kitchen."
John smiled at the detective. He looked around for his daughter. "Were is Rosie?"
"She went to the bathroom to wash her hands five minutes and thirty-four seconds ago."
John rolled his eyes at the accuracy of it. "Rosie," he called.
Rosie came running and jumped at her father. John caught her in the air and hugged her before putting her down. "Were you helping Sherlock?"
Rosie grinned. "Yes. You gotta help to make it."
John smiled and nodded.
John was given the task of making the frosting with Rosie. Sherlock finished mixing the batter and put it in the oven and joined John and Rosie with the frosting. They might have been having technical difficulties. Rosie didn't want to put the ingredients in the bowl. She wanted to put them in her mouth. John wasn't helping. "Bowl not mouth," Sherlock said, taking the sugar from them.
Rosie put on her best puppy dog eyes. "Please," she whined.
"No," Sherlock said, measuring out the sugar.
Rosie glared at John. John grinned at her. "Please," she whined pulling on Sherlock's shirt repeatedly.
John snuck around Sherlock and reached for the sugar on the counter while he was busy lecturing Rosie. Suddenly he found himself pinned to the counter. He winced, shutting his eyes. He opened them to see Sherlock glaring at him. "You are a terrible role model," Sherlock growled.
John blushed. "Uh well."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed. Rosie saw her opening and took it. She grabbed the sugar and ran out of the room. Sherlock stared at where the sugar used to be. He turned back toward John who was laughing. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Well at least we know she's your daughter."
John wiped a tear from his eye. "I'm so proud." he laughed.
John calmed down and grinned at his friend. Sherlock smiled back. Sherlock still had John pinned against the counter. Neither of them noticed the position they were in. "We are going to have to get that back. She's going to make a mess."
"Nah she'll be fine." A loud thud sound from upstairs, accompanied by something that sounded like sand spilling everywhere. "Oh shit."
"I blame you."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
"Fine."
John grabbed Sherlock shirt colour and kissed him. "You finish the frosting and decorate the cake. I'll help her clean up ok."
Sherlock nodded and moved so John could leave. Sherlock didn't meet johns eyes. John groaned. "I'm sorry I don't know what's got into me."
"If you want we could try."
John looked at him. "What."
"Us. If you want to." Sherlock said looking hopeful.
"I'd like that."
They grinned at each other. Sherlock kissed John's cheek. "You better help her, she's trying to cover up her mess."
John's eyes widened. Rosie had a habit of making messes and trying to cover them up. She had taken to throwing them out the window, putting them under the bed, hiding them in the closet and putting them under her covers. She didn't care what she put in the closet or in her bed, as long as it was hidden from the detective and blogger.
Thirty minutes later Rosie's room had been vacuumed and the cake had been finished. Sherlock let Rosie do the decorations. Rosie says that it was her favourite birthday to date.