A/N Hello My Lovelies!!!! So, this one does have a song in it, but I just really love this song and think it is a great lullaby. (Reba is my fave female singer) Enjoy <3
John never knew what Sherlock felt about him, until one night, he was woken by Rosie crying through the baby monitor. He rubbed his eyes and swung his feet off the bed. It was three in the morning, and he had a long shift at the clinic tomorrow, but like a good father, he was going to get up and check his daughter.
"Now, now My Dear Watson, you are going to wake your father." Sherlock's sleepy voice came through the monitor. John froze, uncertain if he should go downstairs. It wasn't Sherlock's job to take care of his daughter. "He has a long day ahead of him, and neither of us wants to deal with John Watson when he is overtired." John settled back and listened, pulling up an image of what must be happening down there. He could see Sherlock cradling Rosie in his arms, checking her diaper and testing her temperature.
"You know, one day My Dear Watson, you will be old enough to sleep through the night. What a joyous day that will be for us all. Well, for John at least. I may not be in the picture any longer. I will probably be here, but you and John will have certainly found a new place. It would be impractical for you both to live here, when there are only two rooms. There is only one way that arrangement would work, and I am afraid that will never happen." John sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. He knew where this was going. Sherlock was married to his work. He had made that explicitly clear when they first met.
"Your father, My Dear Watson, is not gay." That wasn't what John had been expecting. Where was the lecture about how important his work is? "That wonderful man you are so blessed to call your father would never be with me even if he was. Oh, I think your bottle is warm." John's head was reeling, what was Sherlock saying? "You know, if you are hungry it does you no good to resist my attempts to feed you. You are cranky at three o'clock in the morning because you are hungry, so please just take the bottle." John chuckled softly, he loved listening to Sherlock talk to Rosie. He didn't waste his breath on baby talk or mushy tones. He spoke to her as though she were intelligent enough to understand his every word.
"You are as stubborn as your father, you know that?" John heard a clattering noise, followed by a heavy sigh from Sherlock. "Was throwing the bottle really necessary My Dear Watson?" John covered his mouth to hide the belt of laughter that threatened to give him away. "I have said this before, if you want to keep the bottle, don't throw the bottle." John smiled, it wasn't often he got to experience Sherlock's parenting. "How about a lullaby, how does that sound Love? I'm afraid I don't know any of the classic lullabies, but I heard a song the other day that may suffice." John picked up the monitor and held it in his hands, closing his eyes and listening to Sherlock's deep voice.
Midnight moonlight shining through the curtain lace
Paints a perfect picture on your perfect face
One sweet angel sleeping in my arms
You are the promise I knew God would keep
You are the gift that makes my world complete
And you'll never know how much I love you
But I'll keep on telling you my whole life through
Now I believe in miracles, and you're the reason why
So dream on while I sing you my angel's lullaby
John had never felt more in love with Sherlock Holmes than he did in that moment. This genius, that was the definition of a closed heart, was willing to get up in the middle of the night and sing to a child that wasn't his. This man, that was married to his work, loved his daughter with every fibre of his being.
