That Ship Has Sailed

John & Sherlock I

"John."

No answer.

"Jooohn," a lingered groan came from Sherlock's half-asleep body.

Still, no reply. Sherlock sighed, giving up on calling for a third time and rolled out of bed. Pulling on his robe, he exited his bedroom and walked down the hallway. In the living room sat an array of infant toys and bottles and near the couch, the crib. Sherlock heard whining coming from the crib and it had woken him.

He walked over and looked inside, pausing as he did, his gaze changing from annoyed to confused. A moment later, a small smile reached one side of his lips and he leaned down, looking Rosie in the eyes.

"Is that why you're whining? He's taking up too much room? Well, why don't we beat daddy at his own game and you can come sleep with me? It's far more comfortable in the bed. Not such cramped quarters."

As he spoke, he lifted Rosie from the crib, leaving John behind where he lay, curled up in a ball. Sherlock carried Rosie down the hall to his bedroom where he set up pillows on one edge so she didn't roll off. He then lay back down, laying Rosie beside him. She curled up comfortably on his arm, hugging a handful of his t-shirt in her small hands.

"Your daddy spreads himself too thin," he whispered to the small child, "He needs to learn how to take a break so he's not too tired to care for you."

Rosie replied with a wide yawn and Sherlock sighed, "I have that effect on many people. Go ahead. Fall asleep. That's what babies do, isn't it? Sleep and whine and eat, then sleep again?"

Rosie made no more movements and her breathing became slowed as she fell asleep in the crook of Sherlock's arm. He didn't mind much, but studied the small girl's face. Her nose was like Mary's, thankfully, but her eyebrows held a prominence and expression he'd only seen once place before. When her eyes were open, they were the same blue, grey color of John's and her smile, though toothless, resembled his as well. Though John wished there was more of Mary in her, Sherlock felt glad inside that she was more John than Mary. He'd loved Mary, there was no doubt, but there was someone he loved more in the world and though he missed Mary, he was glad that person was free again.

The following morning, Sherlock was at the table, reading the paper and drinking coffee when he heard grunts and groans followed by the cracking of various joints before he saw John stagger into the room. He barely glanced up, not wanting to embarrass the man, but took another gulp of his coffee before informing John that there was more in the pot.

John nodded sleepily and yawned as he poured himself a cup. A sudden realization hit and he turned, "Where's--"

He then laid eyes on Rosie who was sitting in her high chair, fully dressed, with a bowl of diced fruit on her tray and a few pieces on her hands or stuck to her cheeks. John calmed down and smiled at her. She smiled and waved back, a piece of strawberry stuck to the back of her hand.

"She is a rather messy eater, John, you must do something about it," Sherlock said, not looking up from the paper.

"Yes, well, maybe if you fed her, rather than having Mrs. Hudson chop her fruit, she'd be neater. She is an infant, Sherlock. She has to learn these things."

Sherlock ignored the statement and John went about pouring himself a bowl of cereal before sitting across from him to eat. He asked for a section of the paper and Sherlock gave it to him without taking his eyes off his own section of paper. Soon, Mrs. Hudson walked in and said a cheery 'good morning.'

John cleared his throat before saying, "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. For changing Rosie and feeding her, that was very kind of you to do--"

"Oh, I didn't do that," Mrs. Hudson laughed lightly, "I've been down stairs. I've only just come up to drop off more coffee grounds."

John looked from Mrs. Hudson to Rosie, then back again. The old woman pat his shoulder as she walked back out of the apartment, shutting the door behind her. An amused grin was on John's face as he looked toward Sherlock, "Did you," he paused, "Did you change Rosie? And--feed her the fruit?"

"Well I wasn't about to let her lie in that crib with you all night, not getting any sleep. You're small, but you're still too big for that crib, and the couch for that matter. You'd be far more comfortable upstairs in your own bedroom again," Sherlock flipped through the paper as he spoke, "You might want to consider it, or at the very least get a cot or something so you don't have to make your child uncomfortable when she tries to sleep."

Sherlock glanced up to see how his pep talk was going and when he saw the look on John's face, he did a double take, looking back up, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "What's that look for?" he asked finally.

John shook his head, a grin still evident on his face, "I'm just trying to imagine you changing her and cutting up all that fruit small enough for her to eat. You do care after all," he said.

Sherlock stared a moment, then said, "Shut up," before looking back at his paper.

"At any rate," John continued, "I can't sleep upstairs because then I can't hear if she cries and I don't want you to have to deal with her when she starts teething. It wouldn't be fair to yo--"

"You could always stay in my room, there's plenty of space," Sherlock said, not looking up from his paper.

John paused, momentarily choking on a bite of his food. He looked at Sherlock for a moment, then asked what he'd said. Sherlock repeated himself just as he'd said it before and John nodded, "Yeah, that's what I thought you said."

"Just a suggestion. Your spine can't take much more of sleeping on that couch or in the crib with Rosie, which is very uncomfortable for her, I might add. She was whining half the night."

John nodded slowly, pondering the statement with pursed lips. Finally he said, "Okay. Yeah, we can give it a try. Take turns, maybe. See how it works."

Sherlock nodded, "Good. Maybe we'll all get better sleep now."

John nodded, clearing his throat again, then looked at Rosie. She had a smile on her face and was holding a few pieces of strawberry out toward him. He stroked her cheek with his thumb before turning back and saying, "Any cases today?"