Fandoms of the Past (Random One-shots)

Babysitter (Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader)

When you became Sherlock's girlfriend(surprising everyone who knew you both), you didn't realize you'd also become a babysitter for little Rosie. Not that you minded. You had grown to love Rosie, but John and Sherlock were often gone for hours or even days at a time when working on a case. It did get a little lonely with just you and Rosie. However, you soon learned that the baby liked your singing voice and you took to singing whatever popped in your head at any given moment to her especially when it was time for her to sleep. Sometimes your choices were a bit odd given the situation. Like now.

You don't know why the Hamilton soundtrack popped in your head when it did. It wasn't like you'd listened to it recently. But of course, "Helpless" was pretty tame as far as lyrics went so you decided to sing it for little Rosie while she finished eating. Then, "Burn" as you were putting her down for the night. She fell asleep listening to your voice filling the flat. After getting her settled in, you left her room to do the daily cleaning.

As you tidied up, you continued singing. At one point, you used the dish brush as a microphone. Quietly, of course. You didn't want to wake Rosie. She was a pain to get back to sleep like most babies and toddlers. So you cleaned the kitchen before moving on to tidy the living room. As you picked up Rosie's various toys, you started singing "Room Where it Happened." It was really one of your favorite songs in the show and it took everything in you not to belt it out. However, that didn't stop you from dancing around with the broom as you swept. You didn't count on having an audience. You sang, "I wanna be in the room where it happened, the room where it happened, the room-"

You nearly screamed when you turned around to see Sherlock standing there with John. Sherlock looked slightly amused at your embarrassment while John made it no secret that he was laughing. "Oh, shut it," you mumbled. John merely laughed again before carefully picking up Rosie to take her home. Sherlock put his arms around your shoulders while you continued to grumble. You weren't upset, just embarrassed. Sherlock was NEVER meant to see that side of you. You had no idea that seeing you that way had sparked thoughts in Sherlock he never thought possible.

Sherlock's POV

Seeing you so at ease in his home brought unbidden thoughts of domestic life to Sherlock's brain. Without meaning to, his mind conjured up images of you dancing with his child in your arms. Of coming home to the smell of supper waiting, whether home-cooked or not. Of quiet evenings together. Of you being there to bounce ideas off when he got stuck on a case. Of listening to you singing or debating something with Mycroft, who actually got on with you fairly well.

Sherlock could easily picture waking up every morning to see you next to him. He could see you standing in the kitchen in one of his shirts. That brought a whole new set of thoughts that he would deal with later. Sherlock never believed he would find the idea of domestic bliss worthwhile. After all, he had his cases. That was enough for him. At least until you.

"And what is troubling the mind of the my favorite high-functioning sociopath now, hmm?" you asked as the door closed behind John and Rosie. Sherlock gave you a tired smile that he was certain you weren't surprised by. He hardly ate or slept during cases so his body was telling him to take care of himself now.

"Sleep or food first?" you asked, already knowing the answer. Sherlock watched for a brief moment as you made your way to his bedroom. While you stayed at the flat most of the time, you insisted on separate bedrooms in case one or both of you needed space. Plus you knew of Sherlock's reluctance about physical contact sometimes and you respected that. Tonight though, it seemed you could read his mind and knew he wanted to be near you.

The case had been a rough one so when you moved to leave the room after getting the bed ready for him, Sherlock grabbed hold of your wrist. You glanced at him and he hoped his eyes conveyed the words his mouth would not let him say aloud. Without a word, you climbed in the bed next to him and waited. Sherlock had no idea how you had so much patience for him when no one else did, not even John or Sherlock's own family.

As soon as you were comfortable, Sherlock practically wrapped around you, his head resting on your chest and his long limbs tangling with yours. Your fingers began carding through his dark curls. Your actions gave Sherlock a feeling he wasn't at all used to without the use of drugs. Peace. He soon felt his eyes falling shut as sleep began to take hold. The consulting detective entered the land of dreams to the sound of your humming as the melody to "The Room Where it Happened" filled the room.