Sherlock stared at the little child in his arms with fascination. The boy's bright blue eyes glittered with a brilliance and blissful ignorance only the very young possess. He squirmed and settled himself contentedly into Sherlock's chest and let out a slight nicker of sleepy happiness. Sherlock drew his knees towards his body and folded them beneath them, cradling the baby in his arms, and leaning against the wall for support. He was utterly at peace with the world, so calm and relaxed. John watched his lover with adoration as he held the sleeping child against him. Sherlock felt his gaze, and looked up with a startled and apprehensive expression, "How am I doing?" He asked sincerely, shifting his arms gently to make the baby more comfortable. John felt the smile spread feverishly across his face, "Amazing. Really, Sherlock, fatherhood suits you." He said, Sherlock blushed a little and raised a long finger to stroke a smooth path over the boy's fine blonde hair and the delicate skin of his scalp. The baby gave a tiny hiccup noise and wriggled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of Sherlock's heart quicken against his cheek, and clutched at the expensive white shirt. Sherlock didn't seem to mind, it was as though he could forgive the indiscretions of a child so innocent and new to the world.

The door to the nursery opened, and a woman walked in, her skin was flushed and she was panting with exertion. "Oh there's my beautiful boy, thank you for looking after him John." She said, hurrying over to Sherlock as he snapped out of his trance and almost reluctantly surrendered the child to his mother. "Thank you, Sherlock." She said, gathering up her son, Caleb, and fussing over him needlessly in a suitably motherly fashion. Sherlock got to his feet somewhat unsteadily and brushed off his clothes, John went and stood very close to him so that their hips touched and their fingers brushed absently. "That quite alright Harry" John said, curling his fingers around Sherlock's and running his thumb over his knuckles. Sherlock nodded and cleared his throat,

"Yes, he's a wonderful child." He said gruffly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck distractedly.

"I was just saying how Sherlock looked very, uh, right with him." John said helpfully, Sherlock blushed a shade darker than before and shuffled his feet a bit.

"Is that so?" John's sister said with a knowing smile, "Well when Clara and I adopted Caleb we had literally no experience with children, but now he's just such a perfect part of this family, and he's really just settled in, you know?" She turned to Sherlock for a moment, "Have you ever considered adopting a child?" John snorted involuntarily. "I know my brother has always wanted children, and you seem to have a sort of knack with babies." She laughed musically; Sherlock decided he liked her very much. John felt Sherlock's hand squeeze his. "Something to mull over" She said speculatively, resting her son against her hip and winking at John, who's turn it was to blush. "Well, I need to get going, sorry guys; Clara's meeting me at the cafe at twelve." John nodded and they followed her downstairs, their hands still joined. Sherlock watched with interest as Harry helped Caleb into his little coat and secured the blue scarf around his pink neck. "Bye then" She said,

"Bye," John said, leaning over to place a kiss on his sister's cheek, and then on the head of little Caleb. Harry turned to Sherlock; he swallowed, smiled genuinely, and offered his pinkie to the baby, who grasped it tightly in his chubby hand, Sherlock shook it gently like he would an adult and Harry laughed.

As they walked to the main road, John was indeed mulling over what Harry had said. He wanted children, so much it hurt, and more than anything he wished that any child they had could be half of each of them, but he knew that was impossible. Sherlock refused to let his hand go, holding it tightly and securely in his own. He had removed his glove and occasionally ran his thumb over John's knuckles thoughtfully.

That night they lay in Sherlock's bed, their short, ragged breath becoming steady and controlled with effort, until at last one of them was able to speak. Sherlock rolled onto his side and gazed at his partner with lust drugged eyes. John laid on his back, sprawled over his side of the bed, the crisp sheets cooling his flushed skin, hands behind his head, staring blankly at a spot on the ceiling, a contented smile gracing his thin lips. "John," Sherlock murmured, ducking under his arm and settling himself against John's bare chest.

"Yes?" John drawled, resting his arm over Sherlock's broad, pale shoulders.

"I've been thinking..."

"Oh god."

"I've been thinking about what your sister said this morning."

There was a speculative pause. Then John said "I have too." He felt Sherlock nod against his chest.

"I want children John." Sherlock said simply, as though it were the easiest thing in the world. John's breath caught in his throat, he moved his hand and cupped Sherlock's face in his hand, trailing soft eager kisses across his temple and along his sculpted cheekbones, bringing his face to meet his lips. He smiled at he pulled back, and was delighted to see that Sherlock was beaming as well.

"If only it were possible to have a child that had your brilliant mind and features." John began,

"And your heart and love, and moral compass" Sherlock finished. They both were quiet for some time, lost in their own visions of their little family.

"Our child would be beautiful." John said quietly.

"Boy or Girl?" Sherlock asked raising his head to look at John.

"It doesn't matter, a little girl perhaps."

"Yes, a girl, I agree." Sherlock didn't realise he was grinning. "She would be though, wouldn't she?"

"What?"

"Beautiful."

"Yes."

"Your sandy hair would look perfect on our little girl."

"We can't do this Sherlock, you know as well as I do that it isn't possible."

"It is with just one of us. You could donate John; you don't need my genes interfering with our child."

"Of course I do Sherlock; I couldn't bear to have a child who didn't have your intellect and your frankly stunning physique." Sherlock chuckled.

"The world doesn't need another one of me, but another John Watson, that would be an invaluable gift." John let his hand ghost over Sherlock's muscled chest and absently began tracing circles on his abdomen.

"Believe me when I say that if there was any way for me to bear your child John I would do it in an instant." John smiled at his sincerity. He began hovering his hand over Sherlock's stomach, motioning the hill of a pregnancy bump on his slender form. He imagined the smooth alabaster skin pulled taught over the bump, where their child developed in safe and peaceful darkness. Sherlock stilled his motions with his hand, lacing their fingers together. "It would be an honour." He said with a smile.

"So you really mean it?" John said. The realization of his private dream quickly becoming a reality was almost too much to bear.

"With all of my heart" Sherlock said, capturing his lips once more. And John knew it to be true.