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Consciousness came to John very slowly on Sundays. He didn’t have work, and Sherlock often would sleep in and spend such mornings with his mate if he felt especially affectionate. The alpha groaned and stretched, eyes remaining shut. Mid stretch, he felt an arm around the bed, finding Sherlock’s side vacant. He rolled over onto it and groaned into the omega’s pillow in defeat, inhaling his scent in reluctance to get up. After a minute, John gave in with a sigh and sat up, hoping for a chance to lure his omega back to their bed for the remainder of the morning.

John stood, glancing at the clock. It was only half past nine. He scratched his stomach with a yawn and wandered out of their room, bare feet padding gently against the floor. He glanced at the kitchen a moment before deciding tea could wait, instead searching out his omega. John rubbed his eyes and stopped at the start of the rug of their sitting room, staring blankly at the scene before him.

Sherlock was fully dressed and sitting in his chair, laptop resting on his thighs. He typed calmly and frowned at the screen, seemingly focused. He had showered not too long ago, curls sitting in a slightly damp mop over his head. This alone, was not unusual.

What was, however, was the plush, colorful mat laying at Sherlock’s feet. It was placed so that it was in his field of vision around his computer, and there was a baby sitting on top of it. Said baby boy was sitting up on the mat with a variation of blocks and toys at his feet to keep him interested. He had remarkably thick light brown curls atop his head for his age, mussed up some on the side from where he had clearly slept on them. He was very, well. Big. His parents were clearly overcompensating with larger clothes that the baby would very soon grow into, shirt a size too big and shorts with such a wide waistband that the length made them look like trousers. The baby’s warm blue eyes drifted up to look at John, a plastic block in his mouth with drool dripping from the edge.

John stared at the scene for longer than necessary. “Sherlock,”

Sherlock only hummed in response, focused on the screen.

“There’s a baby in the flat.”

Sherlock hummed again, affirmatively. “Henry.”


“The baby,” Sherlock gestured in his direction. “His name is Henry.”

Sherlock closed his laptop and looked down at him- Henry. The baby, in response to hearing his name looked up at the omega curiously, dropping the soaked block on the mat. Henry smacked his lips at the lack of block and sighed, forgetting about his name being called in favor of picking another toy to shove in his mouth. “Well. Hardly a baby, he’s nearly one.”

John tilted his head and leaned his forearms on the back of his chair, watching the baby curiously. “Okay, what is he doing here?”

“Chewing on a car, it seems. He’s teething.” Sherlock responded, leaning down to ruffle the baby’s curls before pulling himself to stand, retrieving a file from his desk.

John rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can see that. I mean why is Henry here, in our flat right now, instead of with his parents?”

Sherlock flipped through the pages of the file, looking up at his mate at the question. “Oh. I’m babysitting.”

John coughed out a laugh, moving to sit in his chair, a foot or so away from the mat. “Since when do you babysit? Do you know anything about children?”

“I’m an omega, John. Most people trust an omega to watch their children; as is our biological function. Hardly a difficult leap.” Sherlock replied, offended. He looked back down to the file with a frown. “Regardless, I believe Henry is in better hands at the moment, considering I’m in the middle of proving that his mother is a serial killer.”

Henry chose that moment to release the car and let out a delighted chuckle for no reason, amusement alight in his eyes as he looked at the skull on the mantle.

John’s eyebrows rose and he eyed the toddler in concern. He thought it best not to ask for details.

“That’s.. yeah okay. You might accidentally poison the little bugger, but at least he isn’t around an actual murderer.”

Sherlock scowled. “I won’t accidentally poison him. If I poisoned anyone it would be decidedly on purpose.”

“You’ve taken up a baby for a case.” Said John, flatly.

“She can’t exactly go on a murder spree with a baby on her hip, now can she?” The omega replied, curt. Sherlock’s frown deepened and he abandoned the file on his desk, approaching Henry on the floor and kneeling next to him.

Henry looked up at Sherlock and immediately leaned forward, grasping onto the side of Sherlock’s chair to pull himself into an unsteady stand. Sherlock patiently watched him throughout the process, and when Henry turned toward him, offered the baby a finger to grasp on to. Henry held onto Sherlock’s finger tightly, and took a few hesitant steps in his direction to reach the omega. Sherlock smiled widely at him and held his other arm out to catch him if needed.

“That’s very good, Henry, what a clever boy,” Sherlock praised as the unsteady baby stepped toward him with assistance, bursting into cheerful laughter at the praise. Henry let go once he reached Sherlock and pressed chubby hands against his chest, allowing Sherlock to scoop him up and settle him over thighs. “You’ll be walking all on your own in no time.”

John watched the interaction in shock, lips slightly parted in admiration as his omega so naturally interacted with the baby. His chest was suddenly tight, and he had to swallow down the sudden desperate urge to haul his omega into the bedroom and not come out until Sherlock was well and thoroughly pregnant. But no. They’d discussed this, Sherlock had expressed when they had first mated that his work was highest priority. No room for a child in their current lifestyle. He rubbed his eyes a moment and offered his omega a wan smile. “He likes you.”

Sherlock looked up, one arm wrapped around Henry’s waist to keep him balanced. Henry’s chubby form nearly shielded Sherlock’s torso from view. “My scent is comforting to him while his mother is away.”

The omega nuzzled Henry’s head gently, nosing at the curls. “He takes well to strangers, I’m confident he would go to you without any issue.”

John cleared his throat, standing up with a stretch. “Er, dunno if I’d want to hold a murderer’s baby. If he gets hurt, it’s your head she’s after. Not going to mingle any of my scent in there.”

He could feel the omega’s eyes against his back as he wandered into the kitchen to make tea. John started the boil and leaned his back against the counter top, rubbing his eyes.

“Why are you so determined Henry will be harmed under my care?” Sherlock sounded wounded, distracted in thought.

When John opened his eyes, he saw that his mate had let Henry off to play on the mat again. Sherlock was watching the baby’s movements, sitting at the edge of the mat and picking at his fingernails. The alpha sighed and crossed the floor to kneel behind him, wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s waist. He didn’t object, lifting his arms as the alpha’s tightened around his middle.

 “I’m only teasing. I’m sure you’ll be a great sitter.” John nuzzled the back of his neck. Sherlock scoffed.

“Alright, maybe not great, but you’ve probably got some knowledge of children in that big brain of yours. If not, then we’ll rely on instinct. If there’s a sudden fire in the flat, I know you’ll get him out first.” John kissed the shell of his ear.

Sherlock laughed genuinely this time. The kettle sang out and with a final squeeze, John got up and made them both tea.

The morning passed slowly, John busied himself with writing up Sherlock’s most recent successful case. It took him nearly twice as long as it normally would, which was to say, quite awhile. John would type a sentence or two before getting distracted, eyes drifting over the screen to catch Sherlock interacting with Henry. Within the few hours John had spent writing, the omega had changed Henry twice, (to his delight, the toddler had decided to soil his diaper again directly after Sherlock had changed him the first time, much to the omega’s dismay) and he managed better than he ever would have thought.

“No, I didn’t YouTube how to change a nappy, John. They are designed specifically so that any idiot could figure it out.” Sherlock had said, without anything more than a look from John to provoke him. Though, when Sherlock stood Henry up to pull his trousers back up to his waist, one glimpse to the toddler’s backside proved Sherlock had put it on a bit lopsided, a bit of the toddler's backside exposed. A small part of him blamed the specially ordered oversized diapers Henry’s parents needed to get for him.

By eleven, John was showered and dressed, though still fruitless in his typing. Sherlock had sat Henry on a makeshift highchair of multiple medical textbooks on top of a dining chair. With the chair pressed forward so that Henry was leaning against the table, it wasn’t the most dangerous position, really. John chose to join them at the table to watch anyway, bringing his laptop to sit at the other end of the table.

“I don’t need supervision,” Said Sherlock, gently spooning a pile of macaroni onto a plate, along with bits of broccoli. Henry squealed and slapped his hands against the wood in anticipation.

“You’ve cooked the broccoli?” John asked instead.

“It’s steamed, yes. Soft enough for his teeth.” Sherlock replied, pouring milk into a sippy cup and screwing on the cap. John recognized the carton as being a specific brand that Henry’s mother must have brought with her when she dropped him off. Sherlock put the plate in front of Henry and gently fastened a bib around his neck, and in watching him, John forgot to pretend to type.

“I don’t know why you’ve brought that in here, you aren’t focused enough to formulate a coherent thought.” Sherlock sniffed, sitting in the chair next to Henry.

Henry fisted a ball of the pasta into his mouth, cooing through chews.

“Slow down,” Sherlock instructed gently, smoothing a defiant curl away from Henry’s forehead. Henry leaned into the motion and hummed, trying a piece of broccoli.

John saved his progress and shut the laptop lid in defeat. He felt a twinge in his chest as he watched them, knowing this could possibly be the only time he’d see his mate like this. “So, any progress on his mum?”

Sherlock blinked, “What?”

“Henry’s mum, you said she’s a serial killer.”

“Oh,” Sherlock seemingly forgot as he got up to add more macaroni to Henry’s plate. “Right. I need more data. I’m sure she’ll strike again sometime while her son is here.”

John hummed and watched as Henry took greedy gulps from his cup, tipping it far above his head and taking gasping breaths whenever he pulled away. “Hungry little one, isn’t he?”

“Not little at all,” Sherlock opened a small tub of applesauce, sitting in his chair near Henry again.

Dropping his now cheese covered cup onto the table, Henry squealed in delight at the sight of the tub, turning toward Sherlock with his mouth already open. The omega patiently spooned applesauce into the baby’s mouth until he was satisfied, getting up and throwing the little left over away. John heard Sherlock’s phone vibrate in his pocket. After washing his hands, he read a series of texts.

“John. There’s a case.”

The alpha frowned and nodded toward the toddler. “What about Henry?”

“He’ll join us.” Sherlock unfastened the bib around Henry’s neck and gently wiped his face clean with it. Henry cried out in protest, veering his head violently to avoid the swipes of fabric.

“Oh, none of that. You’ve made a mess of yourself.” Sherlock chided before hefting him up under the arms and taking him to the sink to wash. He sat Henry on the countertop and wet a paper towel, gently cleaning the remnants off his face. Henry whined again and cried, a few fat crocodile tears streaming over chubby cheeks.

“Yes, enough of the dramatics, we’re done now.” Sherlock placated, voice painfully gentle as he thumbed the tears away and pulled Henry’s head against him, nose near his scent gland. Henry instantly settled, letting out a gentle little purr against Sherlock.

John could smell his omega secrete a comforting scent and bit his lip, swallowing down the sentiment. “They won’t let you on a crime scene with a baby.”

“Sure they will. They need me.” Sherlock washed and dried Henry’s hands once calmed and shifted the baby into one arm, allowing him to grasp a fistful of Dolce and Gabbana at his shoulder. “Coming?”

John watched him for a moment before shaking his head and following him, plucking both of their coats from the rack and stopping his mate to help him into his own. His stomach warmed as Sherlock pressed Henry to his chest and wrapped the Belstaff around him, head of curls sticking out near the collar. Henry murmured a low chuckle in the darkness of Sherlock’s coat and the omega couldn’t help his grin, shifting the fabric to expose the toddler’s face before setting off downstairs. John shrugged into his own jacket and followed with a sigh.



Sherlock didn’t seem hindered by the baby in his arm as he ducked under the police tape before stalking off toward a corpse in the distance. After paying the cabbie, John followed behind and avoided the confused gazes of officers in Sherlock’s direction with a wince. He had caught up just as Sherlock was being stopped a few feet from the body by Lestrade. Of all times Sherlock had invaded a crime scene in none-too-good circumstances, John hadn’t heard the detective inspector yell quite so loud immediately upon arrival before. It was a new record.

“You can’t bring a baby to a fucking crime scene!” Greg had his hand out, stopping Sherlock from going any closer.

“Language, Lestrade.” Sherlock frowned at him, one palm coming up to feign covering one of Henry’s ears. “Besides, he’s facing me, he can’t see anything.”

He shouldn’t be here at all!” Lestrade gestured toward the baby in the omega’s arm.

Henry, upon hearing all the shouting, chuckled contentedly beneath Sherlock’s coat.

“Laughing at a crime scene is frowned upon.” Sherlock informed the baby, looking down at him with a far too pleased expression.

Lestrade suddenly looked ill. “Dear god, please don’t tell me some poor omega is going to come running round the corner looking for their stolen baby,”

“Not as such. His mother left him in my care this morning. Willingly.” Sherlock replied with a sniff, attempting to side step Lestrade to go to the body. The inspector was quick in stepping in his way.

“Either way, you aren’t coming any closer with him.” Greg crossed his arms.

The omega sighed and turned toward his mate, stepping into his space and shifting Henry in his arms. “I need you to hold him for a moment.”

At John’s clear look of hesitation, he sighed. “Please. I just need to take a closer look. I'll be quick.”

John licked his lips and nodded, taking the baby from Sherlock’s arms. Henry was warm from being bundled in Sherlock’s coat and went to John without protest, automatically leaning his head on John’s shoulder. Sherlock brushed a palm over the back of Henry’s curls and kissed John’s cheek in gratitude before sweeping off in the direction of the body.

The alpha adjusted Henry more comfortably in his arms, allowing himself to rest his cheek on his head. John couldn’t help but focus on the toddler as he leaned back in his arms to look at his new bearer. Henry’s nostrils flared weakly in his direction and he blinked, seemingly content, before suddenly slapping a chubby fist against John’s chest with a curt screech. John was startled for a second before realizing the scream wasn’t an unhappy one, drool slipping from Henry's lips onto the alpha’s jumper as he babbled happily at him.

He heard Sherlock pause briefly in his deductions at the sound of Henry's screech, glancing in their direction before continuing his explanation of the murder with a demure smirk.

“Hello.” Said John. Henry blew a raspberry and leaned back against his chest, now content.

Lestrade, who had stayed silent over the whole of Sherlock’s disquisition, eyed John and Henry with a frown. Once Sherlock had finished, Greg had seemed to pay little attention. “Why would you be interested in babysitting?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, stripping the latex gloves from his hands with a fluid motion. “I hope you were listening, because I won’t be going through it again.”

“Yes, yes. The marine biologist, but, honestly, I can’t- oh. Ohhh.” The inspector gasped and his gaze filtered between Henry and Sherlock, and finally to John. The DI proceeded to burst into delighted giggle. “I know what’s going on here.”

Sherlock peered at him and paused, going pale. “No you don’t. Quiet.”

John looked up with a frown at the sound of laughter. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Sherlock hastily crowded his mate, making grabby hands for Henry.

John passed him over and looked at Greg, who’s laughter reduced to little chuckles. “Good luck, mate.”

“With what?”

Sherlock tugged on his sleeve, getting his attention. “John! Henry is exhausted, look at him, we need to leave immediately.”

One glance to Henry proved Sherlock wasn’t lying, the baby was nodding off over the omega’s shoulder.

“Er. Okay. Was that," he gestured to the body Sherlock had just abandoned, "one of Henry’s mum’s victim’s then?”

“What?” Sherlock tilted his head. “Oh. No. Come on.”

Sherlock took John’s hand and led them toward the street, and when John glanced over his shoulder, saw Greg watch them go with a knowing smile.



Sherlock said nothing in the cab on the way back to their flat, coat splayed open to allow Henry to curl up against his chest. The baby was breathing heavily as he slept, drool from his parted lips spreading over the omega’s shirt. Sherlock was staring out the window, one hand cupping the toddler’s head so it didn’t loll to one side.

John watched him, impulsively running his tongue over his bottom lip.

Once inside, Sherlock vanished to their bedroom with Henry without a word. John hung both of their coats and washed a the leftover dishes from earlier. When his mate still hadn’t returned, John quietly peaked into their room.

Henry was laying on his stomach in the middle of the bed, bum in the air. Sherlock lay on his side next to the baby, facing away from the door. His coat was still wrapped around him, and he was slightly curled around Henry. John approached the bed and toed off his shoes before climbing in behind his mate, nosing at his neck. “You okay?”

“Mmm. Making sure he doesn’t suffocate.” Sherlock hummed, leaning into his embrace.

John took that as a cue to get comfortable, slipping one of his knees in between the omega’s. “I think he’ll be alright. He's old enough to roll onto his back.”

“He could roll off.”

“True.” John allowed, thinking about the day’s events. He licked his lips again and kissed Sherlock’s nape before testing a theory. John slowly slid his hand between the open fold of Sherlock’s coat, untucking his shirt from his trousers. He felt Sherlock look down at his hand in curiosity but he didn’t protest. The alpha slid his palm over the smooth skin of his mate’s belly, rubbing there a moment before cupping just under his naval.

Sherlock shuttered beneath his palm, letting out a soft huff of breath. John hid his smirk in between Sherlock’s shoulder blades, keeping his hand there as he drifted off.





 The alpha grumbled into Sherlock’s back, tightening his hold on his waist. Sherlock made a soft noise and gently squeezed John’s arm.

“You need to let me go, I need to change Henry.”

John sighed and released him, opening his eyes. He watched Sherlock sit up and tuck his shirt back in over his belly, pulling his coat off and shucking it on the floor. Henry was on his back, babbling to himself as he gnawed the fabric of a pillowcase, very much awake.

Sherlock watched the baby as he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. He pulled Henry to stand on the bed, fixing the baby’s curls where they were frizzy and flattened by the duvet, and let him down to the floor. Henry stood on shaking legs and Sherlock held out his index finger of each hand to him, assisting Henry to walk into the sitting room. The toddler squealed in delight as he walked, gripping Sherlock’s fingers as he loomed over him.

While Sherlock changed Henry in the sitting room, John busied himself with making them tea, shoving a mug into Sherlock’s hands as soon as the baby’s pants were back up. Sherlock’s eyebrows twitched slightly in confusion. “Set it on the table, I’ll drink it in a minute.”

“No, drink it now.” John insisted, mug still outreached in his direction. Sherlock took it, cautiously taking a few gulps. His eyes didn’t leave John’s over the rim of the mug. John hummed in content, sitting down in his chair with his own cup.




Henry got picked up just before dinner that evening. Sherlock had been impeccably polite to Henry's mum, which was strange if he thought she was a killer. The omega handed the baby over along with the bag full of his things, and with a final goodbye to Henry, offered his services again whenever she needed.  When she tried to pay him though, Sherlock denied it swiftly. After insisting he wouldn’t take a single note from her, and many expressions of gratitude, Henry was gone.

As soon as they were out the door Sherlock sighed and flung himself onto the sofa on his back, closing his eyes. John, who had attempted to finish writing up the case from earlier, shut his laptop. “I know what you’re up to, you know.”

Sherlock smirked from where he lay on the sofa, eyes still shut. “Do you?”

“You think you’re so clever.” John chuckled to himself. He got up and approached his mate, shoving Sherlock’s legs apart so that he could kneel between them. Sherlock opened his eyes and his wrist came up to wipe a bead of sweat from his brow. Was it warm in here?

“I am clever.”

“You know if you want something all you need to do is ask.” John leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his chest, fingers coming up to undo the top buttons.

Sherlock watched him. “It’s more fun to make you work for it.”

“Go on then.” Said John, finishing with the buttons and splaying open Sherlock’s shirt.

“Not this. I want to know if you got it right.” Sherlock exhaled, chest falling beneath his mate’s palms.

John ducked down and placed both hands over Sherlock’s hips, watching him as he lowered and pressed a kiss over his belly. “You want a baby.”

“Good,” Sherlock murmured, shifting slightly beneath his alpha, chest now covered in a sheen of sweat. He looked up at the ceiling to see the fan running. He frowned. “Why is it..?”

“Feeling a little warm?” John nipped his soft tum with his teeth and Sherlock twitched. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am, you know.”

The omega blinked at him, lips parting. “I.. I don’t feel very well,”

John grinned, leaning up on his knees and unbuttoning Sherlock’s trousers, shucking them down his thighs. He gave an affectionate stroke to the omega's half-hard prick. “Henry’s mum wasn’t ever suspected of murder, was she?”

Sherlock lifted his hips, one trembling hand finding John’s bicep. “No. I..I met her on a case. Single mother, she needed help, I offered..” The omega grunted as his stomach suddenly cramped. “Henry looks.. enough like me, I knew you’d.. you would start to want one of our own- mmrh.. genetics..”

The alpha shifted his weight up and over his mate, settling back down over top of him to align the thick buldge in his pants with Sherlock’s. The omega whimpered, bucking his hips up. “I’ve wanted one of our own for awhile, Sherlock. I was respecting your wishes.”

“What.. what did you do?” Sherlock’s pupils were blown and he looked toward the coffee table where his empty mug from earlier sat.

John’s eyes followed his and he chuckled. “You know those heat inducer pills you used for that cinema case?”

Sherlock’s eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this, Sherlock.” John shifted his hips up and Sherlock moaned as John's cock pressed against his through too much fabric, head falling back to expose his throat. “Once I knew what you wanted I certainly wasn’t going to waste any time.”

“I’m.. fuck, I’m in heat,” Sherlock panted, spreading his legs for his mate to get more friction. He suddenly could feel the wetness leaking from him, and he shivered.

“Good deduction.” John leaned down and sucked on his throat, one of Sherlock’s legs coming to wrap around his waist. “You know, Henry is big, but I think we can do better. Do you want a big baby Sherlock?”

Sherlock moaned in anguish. “God, yes, please give me a baby, John.”

“Your body wants it, you know. You've gone off birth control, haven't you? I can tell.” John murmured against his neck, moving up to whisper against his ear.

Sherlock hissed, "h-how?"

“You’ve gained a bit of weight, your nipples are more sensitive..” The alpha unbuttoned his own jeans with a grunt, attempting to alleviate the pressure in his groin. “Your belly has filled out some,”

Sherlock made a deep animal noise from his chest, pressing one of John’s palms over his stomach and pushing it out desperately. “Yes! Yes, I want your baby John, fill me with it, haven’t I proved myself to you?”

“Yes, my love, of course you have.” John's chest throbbed with adoration and he held his omega’s face between his hands to kiss him hard, biting his lower lip before he pulled back and wrestled his jumper off his head. Throwing the garment to the floor, he looked down at Sherlock, flushed with arousal with a bead of blood forming at his lip. “God, we’re having a baby.”

Sherlock whimpered as John dove back down onto him, yanking the omega’s underwear down to finally free his leaking member. John freed himself as well, not missing his omega's thighs tremble a bit at the sight of him.

"Fuck, you're drenched," John panted, rubbing two fingers against Sherlock's opening. He hissed at the sheer amount of fluid coming from him, pulling his finger back to suck them clean. "You're going to be so perfect pregnant,"

Sherlock whined and pinched one of his nipples, pushing his belly out.

"You'll show right away, you'll be nothing but belly for months-" John pulled at his erection curled against his stomach, lining himself up with his mate before pressing into him with a groan. Sherlock wrapped both legs around his waist and pulled John down to kiss him hard.

"Everyone will know how well you've bred me," Sherlock rasped as John shifted his hips with his building rhythm, nails biting into his shoulder. John kissed at his neck again and bit down over their bond mark, the friction of his cock between their bellies and the burst of pleasure at being reclaimed pushing him over the edge, coming hard between them.

John growled against his neck and his thrusts became more desperate as he felt the omega pulse around him. A few more hard jerks of his hips and he was coming thickly into his omega, knot swelling and locking them together. He collapsed over Sherlock's chest, not paying attention to the mess between them. They both lay there together for awhile, catching their breath.

"See," panted Sherlock, curls sticking to his forehead, "I had good intentions."