This is the last of my pre-written material before I drop off the face of the earth again. I was working pretty well paced on a lengthy fic (which I'm hoping to get up before February at least,, oof) but I got hit with what I can only describe as a health crisis cause neither me nor the doctors know what the fuck is wrong with me. I've been dizzy and generally disoriented for a couple of days so it's made concentrating on fic writing difficult to say the least.

As a whole I was not too happy with this when I wrote it hence why I put off posting it for so long but when doesn't this fandom need cute domestic joanlock fluff? So here it is anyways hope you enjoy while I WebMD my symptoms

Sherlock watches with an amused smile on his face as Leo escapes his mother's grasp dropping unceremoniously to the ground. Excitement sparkles in the young boy's eyes as he spies the snowflakes raining down from the sky. However, before he can make his grand escape outside the restaurant his mother catches him by the back of his collar.

"Coat." Joan had perfected her authoritative voice after living with him for so many years. Even with his exuberance the boy doesn't dare question his mother's commands sticking up his little arms so that she can help it on him. She kneels down to his height helping him with the zip before placing a kiss on his cheek despite loud squealing protests. He can't help the grin that fights to spread across his lips. Rather he tucks it a way with a clearing of his throat.

He holds Watson's coat out for her helping her shrug it on as she did for her son. She reaches out and takes the three year old's hand as they step out into the cold night.

The rush of bitter wind makes him wince and he almost misses the immediate look of wonder that spreads across Leo's face. The two detectives follow the gaze and spot the cause of wonder at the same time.

Across the street is a large carriage decorated with garland and garish red ribbons with excessive golden sparkles. A man sits in the steering position in a large black coat and a top hat, holding the reins to a dark brown horse shaking its mane. The man seems to spot Leo as they step out as he tips the brim of his hat towards him. Uncharacteristically shy, he feels tiny hands grip the back of his pants as he hides behind his leg.

In a bold move he sweeps up the boy and strides towards the carriage. He can hear Watson's gasp and protests but he decides to ignore him. "May we pet your horse Mr?"

"Blakley," The man introduces himself with a wide-toothed grin. His eyes wrinkle at the corners and he feels Leo tuck his mop of curls into his shoulder. "Her name is Maybelle."

He mouths a thank you to the man before stepping to the horse. He's careful to avoid the patches of ice shining in the light of the street lamps. He feels the iron tight grip loosen on his collar a bit. A quick peek tells him that Leo's shyness is shrinking away. The wonder has returned full force as dark eyes meet chestnut ones.

Sherlock sticks his hand out first, petting the neck of the beast. "Hello Maybelle." He says softly. He shifts the boy urging him to stick out his own hand. Tiny fingers brush the fur against his own.

"Hi Belle." It's a whisper only Sherlock can hear but he feels the warmth spread through him instantly. He hears the snap of the camera behind him and spies Watson's smile next. So rarely did he see such a genuine smile cross her lips. He swears he even sees tears sparkling in her eyes.

"Shall we take a ride?" His statement startles mother and child both.

"Can we?" The boy gasps.

"We have work." Although Sherlock can hear the wistfulness in her voice. They've been busy on a particularly rough case all week and Leo is getting much too old to see the violent images posted up on the walls. Often it's handled with Joan's multitasking or playdates with Kitty and Archie but this case commands her attention. It was the first time they were able to eat together as a family all week.

The night had been filled with excited broken chatter recounting the last playdate where Archie introduced Leo to the world of Star Wars and the floor is lava. Watson had nearly spit out her tea when he'd mentioned that Kitty played with them. He can hardly imagine someone as brooding as Kitty bouncing on cushions proclaiming imaginary danger. As it got later he could feel the dread looming over them. Eventually they would have to drop Leo off at Mrs. Hudson's and Watson and him were to whisk off to analyze the crime scene once again.

"And I'm sure if you sent Marcus that picture of his favorite godson he'll be more than understanding if we're a bit tardy." She purses her lips at his statement. Her face reads it all, she knows he's right and she is hardly more impervious to the big puppy eyes of the toddler in his arms than he is.

"Fine." She sighs reluctantly but a wide smile tugs at her lips. He grins offering her a hand as she climbs up the stairs in her heeled boots. Gingerly, he passes Leo up to her where she settled them both onto the cushioned seat. He climbs up next taking his seat so that the little boy is nestled between them.

The soft sounds of hooves clopping on the streets fill the night air as the three of them relax. It is barely twenty minutes into the ride before he feels the weight Leo shift. He climbs into his mother's lap burrowing his nose into her neck. Wordlessly, Sherlock reaches behind them pulling out two blankets. Watson mouths a thank you wrapping the first blanket around her son, the other she uses one hand to hook it over her shoulders before holding out the other half for him.

"No I'm fine."

"Yeah and the last thing I need is Bell getting on me for letting you catch a cold out here because you refuse to share a blanket."

"Actually you can't-"

"Just get over here." The 'mom voice' comes back and he has no choice but to scoot over so his side is pressing against hers. In the strangest way the closeness does not feel awkward nor forced. He feels the warmth radiating off of her layered body and is sure she feels the same.

He watches her in moments where she's not paying attention. Her eyes trace over New York as if seeing it for the first time. It's stunning that despite knowing Leo's adopted and having been through the procedures alongside her, he can still see resemblances between mother and child. Particularly their dark captivating eyes that demand attention. His breath catches when those eyes suddenly meet his catching him staring.

"Did you know that carriage operators aren't supposed to ride in temperatures below 19 degrees?" He can hear it in her tone of voice, she already knows the answer to her question. He partially wonders how long it took her to deduce that Mr. Blakely is, in fact, one of his irregulars hired for the purpose of this carriage ride.

Part of him wonders if he should keep up the facade or give in. "Leo likes horses," He finally relents under her scrutinous gaze.

"Well I think it's sweet. Thank you." Warmth spreads through his chest at her approval.

They reach the Brownstone far too soon for his liking but he knows the night had to end eventually. Watson carefully passes a sleeping Leo on to Mrs. Hudson while he tips the driver and thanks him.

As they make their way to the police station he feels Watson's hand brush up against his. He tries to catch her gaze but she stares forwards as if she didn't notice the contact at all. He partially believes he imagined it until it happens again. The soft touches continue all the way there.

And he was right, Bell didn't complain.