The mess you've made

Chapter three

Sherlock settles Sam on the floor in front of the telly and noticed that he was still wrapped only in a sheet. He made his was into his bedroom to throw on some trousers and at shirt then made his way back to the kitchen. He pulls out a pot them fills it with water and places it on the stove to boil. So far so good, Sherlock thinks to himself. The detective takes out some packet pasta and tips it into the water, then covers the pot with a lid like he'd seen John do. While he waits for it to cook he gets some milk out of the fridge. Baby's like milk don't they? He pour milk into a glass and as he pours and eye ball falls out of the bottle. He'd forgotten about the experiment.

"Better not tell John about that one." He chuckled to himself. Sherlock instantly abandons the milk and headed to the living room to check on Sam. Sam was very much awake trying to stick his foot in his mouth with his eyes fixated on the screen in front of him.

"So much for sleeping all day." Sherlock grumbled.

Suddenly the fire alarm sounded in the kitchen. Sherlock whipped around to find that a cloth that he'd left near the open flame had caught on fire and that the pasta cooking was boiling over, tipping water all over the bench and floor. Sherlock tried to put out the flame and instead burn himself and jumped back with a yelp. Sam began to scream from the loud beeping sound of the alarm and Sherlock panicked.

John suddenly appeared out of nowhere and put out the fire, yelling at Sherlock to turn the stove off. Sherlock did as he was told and stood back as John pulled up a chair to turn off the alarm.

"What the fuck, Sherlock!?" He screamed, "What the fuck." He said as he noticed the crying infant on the living room floor. John raced and picked up Sam and began to rock him in his arms and whispered sweet things, trying to calm him.

"What's going on." The army doctor demanded.

"I uh...I was looking after Sam because Harry had an appointment and you weren't home..." Sherlock blushed and tried to hide behind his curls. John smirked slightly and walked into the kitchen, checking everything was under control.

"Sherlock, the mess you've made." He said inspecting the mess, "Why were you cooking pasta. You've never cooked a day in your life."

"Sam was hungry." Sherlock mumbled avoiding John's eyes.

"So you were going to feed a ten month old baby spaghetti?" He giggled with a smile. Sherlock shrugged and blush a deeper colour red.

"And I'm not even going to question why my nephew is wrapped in your shirt. I'm just glad I got here when I did. You'd have brunt down the flat his if I didn't."

Sherlock avoided John's gaze and went to the bathroom to get a towel to soak up the water as John calmed Sam down some more. John watched with a smile as Sherlock bent over and mopped up the water. He couldn't help but think of how cute it had been that Sherlock had tried took take care of Sam. Even if he almost killed the kid. He watched the muscles muscles in Sherlock's shoulders flex and relax with his movements. He noticed the blush on Sherlock's cheeks as he stood, walked past John and disappeared into the bathroom.

John hung his head and bit his lip to suppress a grin. He couldn't help it but he found it extremely cute what Sherlock had tried to do. He thought it was adorable that Sherlock had made a mess of things and is now embarrassed, his cheeks the colour of a beet, and trying to avoid John. He should be mad at him for almost burning down their flat and probably almost killing his nephew. Yet he wasn't. He found this whole situation extremely...cute.

Sam reached up from John's arms and grabbed hold of John's nose in his chubby hand and squealed when he squeezed, making his uncle oink like a pig. John lifted Sam in the air and blew a raspberry on his tummy, making Sam squeal louder and kick his legs as he tried to push John's face away.

"Does that tickle Sammy?" John laughed as blew a second raspberry on the chubby baby's belly drawing another squeal out of the infant.

John chuckled and hugged Sam to his chest and turned around to find Sherlock leaning against the door frame, smiling to himself at the happy scene before him. When John noticed him standing there watching, Sherlock stood up straight and stuttered.

"S-sorry." He blushed.

"About what?" John said confused. Sherlock shrugged and stepped a little closer to John, running his hand through his hair nervously.

"I'm sorry John." Sherlock whispered, "I didn't mean for it to get out of hand like that."

John smiled widely and stepped closer to Sherlock, placing his free hand on Sherlock's cheek.

"Don't be sorry, Sherlock. You did brilliantly, I'm very proud." He said stroking Sherlock's cheek with his thumb.

Sherlock lent into the touch, closing his eyes and purring slightly. Sam squealed loudly and kicked his legs excitedly, kicking Sherlock in the stomach. Sherlock drew back from John's touch and looked down at the baby.

"Harry told me that he'd sleep most of the day but he's got enough energy in him for the three of us." Sherlock stated, watching the baby put a fistful of John's shirt in his mouth, "and I've found he likes to stick things in his mouth."

John chuckled and smoothed his hand over Sam's head gently then kissing his forehead head softly. He then looked up at Sherlock who was still avoiding his gaze.

"Why don't you go take Sam into the living room and watch telly while I clean up the rest of this." John said, handing the restless instant to Sherlock.

Sherlock nodded numbly and took hold of the child, beginning to feel more comfortable with holding him. He turned to walk away but John's voice stopped him.

"Sherlock, I'm not mad at you. So you don't have to act like I am." He said. Sherlock turned to face him and gave his blogger a small smile.

"Really, Sherlock, it's okay." He said with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you, John." He said before he turned to take Sam into the living room. John watched Sherlock disappear around the corner and starred at the doorway for a moment before he turned to clean up the remainders of the mess.