The Watson-Holmes (Sequel To The Perfect Cradle)

Appointment

John's leg thumped against the chair as him and Sherlock sat in the waiting room of the doctor's office. While the blogger closed his eyes and set his head in his hands, the detective sat back with his legs crossed and humming a little familiar song as he flipped through a magazine.

"Don't get caught up in your head. It's dangerous up there." Sherlock took himself away from the magazine long enough to kiss his husband on his temple before going back to the magazine and flipping through the pages too fast to even read them but it was something to distract him.

"You're a fine one to be talking about 'dangerous minds' there Sherlock Watson-Holmes." John answered back as Sherlock gave that sexy baritone laugh that made John go crazy. But this wasn't a time to be sexually frustrated, just frustrated in general. It stressed John out to be back in the same doctor's office that brought him Hamish and Violet so now it was almost surreal to be back there with another thought of another addition to their family.

"Watson-Holmes?" The nurse asked, poking her head out the door as both the men shot their gaze to her. Sherlock threw the magazine back on the table as his hand was taken by John's as he didn't objectify to. Going hand in hand into the back and into the room for their appointment, John sat up on the examination table as Sherlock sat beside him in another chair, crossing his legs and fingers tapping against his chin.

"A little nervous are we?" John asked, scanning the room and studying the posters of the stages of pregnancies and a thorough diagram of a uterus. "You should probably be the one to be nervous right?" Sherlock asked with his head still in hands as he spoke into his palm.

John chuckled, gazing around the room one more time before looking to his husband who looked pretty stressed as is about something else other than the appointment. The blogger heard the detective let out a long sigh and John took it that Sherlock wanted attention.

"What do you want? What's wrong?" John asked his stressed husband. Sherlock looked up between his fingers as he closed his eyes again and sighed audibly. The detective dropped his hand and sighed a third time before smiling and setting his hand in his head again.

"Are we...are we really doing this? I mean, we're really trying to have a baby again." Sherlock made a point as John smiled at the words of the detective. John always knew he wanted kids, he just didn't know how many. Though he may be thinking that three would be the cut off. John saw Sherlock as somebody who never wanted kids and, in fact, thought kids were confusing and ultimately something he never wanted anything to do with.

Then came the day that Hamish was born. John could sense that Sherlock was a skeptical about being a parent for the first time throughout the whole pregnancy, but the moment the detective laid eyes on his son, he knew it was meant to be. Never in his life had John seen such a bond between his husband and their two wonderful kids. The blogger would probably never figure out how Sherlock went from drug-addicted, cold-hearted, sociopath to a loving, caring, and amazing husband and father. It was like falling in love with him all over again, without the awkward advances made to get him to notice him. Like the first dinner they had together at Angelo's with John licking his lips and asking the detective if he had a girlfriend or boyfriend.

"Hello? Ah, it's always nice to see some familiar faces. Welcome back!" John's doctor came in with a large and cheery smile as he sat down and shook both of their hands, Sherlock sitting upright and looking more attentive to the doctor and the situation at hand.

"Thank you Doctor Taylor. It does feel surreal being here again. I really didn't think about any of this but I'm more than happy about it." John smiled. Sherlock smirked, snaking his hand into John's as the blogger gripped it hard.

"Alright. Well, I see on your chart here that you are here for a blood check and an examination. Let's get started shall we?"

From there, John was poked with needles, prodded by cold fingers and handled like a piece of meat. Even being a doctor himself, John thought that was a little extensive for all of that.