Johnlock Oneshots (fluff)

23) Rosie

Word Count: 667
*Sherlock's POV*

John span in steady circles, holding Rosie facing outwards as she laughed with the pure innocence of a baby's soul. John had a subconscious grin on his face as she waved her arms around and her head swivelled trying to keep up with the spinning room. I was sitting cross-legged opposite them on the sofa, our red setter Hamish laid across my lap sleeping. He liked to do that when I was in my mind palace - as I had been - because I was warm and I often wouldn't move for ages. But now I focused my attention on the man and child by the fire, twirling and laughing happily without a care in the world.

I had started dating John a few months ago now, soon after we watched the video Mary made us, basically telling us we were in love with each other. Rosie thinks of both of us as her fathers - something I tried to correct her on at first but eventually gave up. We got Hamish for her first birthday, a gift from "Uncle Mycroft" and "Uncle Greg" as she calls them. I don't know why she calls Grugwyn "Greg" but still. Of course as she's still just a baby then she doesn't really know what to do with a dog, but John and I mostly take care of him (mostly me) and I had been begging Mrs Hudson for a dog for ages anyway. She said no until she saw Hamish's face, which of course she immediately agreed as long as I didn't teach it to start shooting the wall as well. And of course, much to John's objection, I got to name him.

"What're you smiling at?" John's voice broke through my train of thoughts. He had stopped spinning Rosie and sat down next to me on the sofa. Hamish looked up at him, annoyed at being woken up so rudely but accepting Rosie's grabs for his soft fur. "You solved that murder yet?"

"Oh. Yeah, ages ago," I quickly texted Gilbert the answer. "I was just thinking about... death.." I improvised. John raised his eyebrow at me suspiciously but didn't poke further.

"Well, I've got to get some milk and jam. It goes twice as fast with Rosie here too. Will you be okay with her while I go out?"

"Rosie? Yeah, of course. She's my daughter, too. Well... you know." I blushed, my brain not wording things right. I did think of myself as also Rosie's father, having helped raise her a lot and also being John's boyfriend, but I still didn't really like to refer to her as my daughter yet in front of John because I worry about him getting upset. I hadn't really meant to say it just then, but thankfully he just smiled a small, genuine smile and kissed my temple as he handed me Rosie.

"I love you. Be good-" he added as he walked out of the door. We shared a grin as I asked Rosie if she wanted to see some body parts from the morgue, just to annoy him. I watched the door close behind him, then turned my attention to Rosie, who was now trying to chew on Hamish's ears.

"Stop that, Rosie," I tried to maintain a flat tone. She giggled and stretched her arms across me in an attempt at a hug. I couldn't help but smile, hugging her back gently as Hamish hopped off of the sofa and settled down in front of the fire instead.

"Cwime!!" she squealed, and I jumped up excitedly, glad that John wasn't around to tell us off. I sat her down in his chair and placed myself in my own, leaning forwards so she wasn't so far away.

"You wanna hear about an American assassination I had to solve?" I asked, and she nodded. She was a brilliant listener, and we had until John returned to talk about the murder.