A/N: I keep trying to write a new chapter for Devotion and then I come up with new Johnlock oneshots instead. This idea just wouldn't go away and it didn't fit in any of my current stories. Enjoy!

When it happened it made sense. Nothing remarkable had happened that day, or any of the days previously. They were drinking tea in the kitchen and laughing over their latest case when Sherlock was overcome by the sudden urge to kiss John.

"How was I supposed to know that it was a memorial to her husband?"

"She said when we met her 'this is a memorial to my late husband."

"I was busy looking for clues, not for memorials."

John's shoulders shook with silent laughter and Sherlocked watched him, overcome with mirth and longing all at once. Maybe it was the tea, or maybe it was the way the light was filtering through their kitchen. Whatever it was he felt emboldened and sure that now was the right moment.

Sherlock closed the distance between them, he put one hand on John's cheek and the other on his hip then leaned in until their lips were almost touching. He was waiting, feeling John out to make sure that he hadn't misunderstood what he felt. John's eyes flickered down to Sherlock's and after a moment's consideration he leaned in and closed the gap between them.

It was slow and chaste at first, barely more than just a brushing of their lips together. When John tangled one hand in Sherlock's hair and gripped his hip with the other Sherlock took advantage of this new intimacy and deepened the kiss.

There was so much to explore, so many things to kiss, caress and learn about each other. In that moment Sherlock wanted to devour John-from eyeballs to entrails-and learn everything he could about this man. The man he had been so desperately in love with for so long without fully realizing it.

"Sherlock," John breathed after they had broken apart. John was still pinned between Sherlock and the counter, and showed no signs he wanted to extract himself from the situation.

"How long? How long have you…" (Loved me. Wanted me. Felt this way?) Sherlock asked. He stepped away from John and went to settle into his armchair, taking his tea with him. John followed suit and once they were both seated Sherlock watched John, waiting for a response.

"Probably always. I don't know if I could place a finite date on it. You were, you are, a fantastic person with this amazing life and sense for adventure and it all seemed too good to be true. When you choose me to be your flatmate I was only expecting to find someone to share the rent with." (Not someone to spend my life with.)

"You're so sentimental."

"You started it. How long have you wanted to do that?" John waved his arm in the direction of the kitchen, as if asking him what he wanted for dinner.

"I've thought about you in many different aspects throughout the years. Friend, flatmate, blogger, doctor (lover). All those titles, while good, were not right. You brought home dinner once, Chinese from the place we like. You dished out your own plate, and then mine, set it down on the table next to where I was working and then sat down across from me to eat. I remember looking up at you and wondering what you were doing with me, also wondering when you had started to be so attentive to my needs."

John was smiling at Sherlock, no doubt saving this moment for use as proof of just how sentimental Sherlock can be (at least when it comes to John.)

"I started noticing when you made me tea, brought me dinner, insisted I ate breakfast or would make me go to bed after I'd been up more than 36 hours straight. No one has ever done that for me, at least never with so much patience. I began to believe that you," Sherlock hesitated, his gaze dropped from John's as he groped for the right word. "That you were in love with me."

John chuckled and sipped his tea. The smile on his face encouraged Sherlock-it indicated that Sherlock had not been wrong in his deductions.

"I thought you viewed relationships as something that would get in the way of your work. Did I change that, or were you lying?"

"I was lying. I thought that the real me would be too much for you to handle, so I pushed you away and hoped not to get hurt. There are only so many things that I can delete."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence and for a long time neither of them talked. They sipped their tea and mulled over what the other had said. John, in particular, felt like he had a lot of information to take in.

"I suppose this will change things," John said after what felt like hours.

"Not really. Our relationship will, the people around us will have to adjust to that, and you'll move into my bedroom." Sherlock met John's gaze and they both looked away sheepishly.

"That'll be good for Rosie, so she can have her own room. Of course someday when she goes to school and tells kids she has two dads and no mom things could get interesting," John said, his tone was light and Sherlock couldn't help but laugh.

"It's 2017, by the time she's in school most people will probably be used to these kinds of things."

"So you want to be with me, even though that means all the baggage I come with?" John asked. His voice was strained and his face was lined with worry.

Sherlock got out of his chair and kneeled in front of John, he put his hand on John's knee and with the other he cupped John's cheek. "The baggage is what make you you. We all have baggage. As it turns out I have a sister who drowned my childhood best friend. You're not the only person to have things to haunt you from your past."

John leaned in and kissed Sherlock, this kiss was not chaste, nor was it hungry. This kiss was full of love and excitement for something new. After a few minutes the kiss did grow heated, John had hauled Sherlock into his lap and they were still tangled together when Mrs. Hudson interrupted.

"So good to see that you've made up. I was going to ask if you wanted some of the biscuits I made but I can see you're busy. I'll watch Rosie tonight, you two have some catching up to do."

Before either of them could protest that this was new and they weren't making up she was already out the door.

"She took it well, let's hope everyone else will. Do you think you're parents will be upset that they won't have any grandchildren?" John asked, his tone was light as he nibbled at Sherlock's ear.

"Rosie will be their grandchild. This way there are no more Holmes' out there."

"We could have another, through a surrogate. That one could be yours. Imagine the chaos the two of you could create."

"We can cross that bridge when we get there. For now, I think it's time you take me to bed."

Four Years Later

John and Rosie entered the flat to find Sherlock researching what looked like mosquito reproduction habits. He shut his laptop and stood up just in time to get an armful of Rosie.

"Daddy, guess what I learned at school today?"

"What?" Sherlock asked as he sat down on the couch and placed her in his lap. John dropped her backpack into his armchair and then sat next to them on the couch.

"Most kids have only one daddy and they also have a mommy. I told my teacher I thought that was boring and wrong so she sent me to timeout. I don't know why I got in trouble for that, it really does sound boring," Rosie said.

"Rosie, I've already told you it's rude to tell people they're boring. No matter how true it may be," John said. Sherlock laughed and kissed Rosie on the forehead then set her on the ground. She immediately ran up to her room to play. Sherlock put his arm around John and pulled him into his side.

"She apparently started quite the stir when she announced that she had two daddies. Her classmates then started asking where her mommy was, and which of our tummies she had come from."

"What did Rosie say?" Sherlock asked.

"No idea, she was sent to timeout and didn't get to tell anyone anything else. That girl, she is going to be the death of us."

"Its nothing we can't handle. We've taken on countless criminals, one five year old should be easy."

"Maybe if you stopped teaching her all of your bad habits. I don't need two people storing dead things in the fridge or burning holes in the table."

"The bird in the fridge was her way of bringing home something we could both work on, it was very thoughtful."

"It was on the butter!"

They both fell silent and listened to the sound of Rosie playing in her room. She chatted to her dolls as she played with them, it was such a steady stream it seemed unlikely she had time to breathe.

"Come on, let's get dinner started," John said. He stood up and held his hand out to Sherlock. Sherlock used the outstretched arm as leverage and pulled John into his lap. They giggled and then they kissed, sprawled out on the sofa.

"Good to see that being married and having a kid hasn't changed anything," Lestrade said from the doorway. He had walked in on them in much more compromising situations and didn't seemed bothered in the slightest.

"Do you have a case for us?" Sherlock asked as they stood up from the couch.

"I do, think Mrs. Hudson would mind watching Rosie for a bit? Shouldn't take long."

As if on cue Rosie burst into the room and immediately was swept into a hug by Lestrade. "Uncle Greg! Are you going to take my daddies on an adventure?" Sherlock had read Rosie the Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings books, even though John thought they were too mature for her. Now when they go out with Lestrade she acts as if he is Gandalf, taking a few hobbits on an adventure.

"Yes I am, don't worry they'll come back safe," Lestrade said with a chuckle. He set her back down and watched as she collected her backpack and a few toys then followed the three of them to Mrs. Hudson's flat.

It was not how either John or Sherlock had ever imagined their future, but it was perfect. Every moment was worth everything they had gone through, and everyday was a new adventure.

The End

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! It is fluff, pure fluff and I just love writing it, so I hope y'all like reading it. I love the idea that someday Lestrade will be Uncle Greg and they will just be this weird but perfect little family. Until next time!