Author's Notes:

Hi there! So, never thought I'd write baby!lock fiction before. And I wouldn't, if I wasn't so inspired by tumblr's Navydream in which the words amazing and awesome would be a huge understatement to describe her work. Curious? Well you should be! Go check it out! But first read this okay? Sweet.

Also, don't be surprised with the lack of the child's name or description, that part is left purely for your imagination ^.^ One thing I can tell you though, is that he (besides the fact of being male!) is about 9 months old.

"John. John, I don't like this."

Sherlock sat stock still, eyes flitting between John sitting across from him and the small toddler banging his hands excitedly on the detective's knee, gazing up at him adoringly, with his drooling mouth wide and smiling. The detective, on the other hand was anything but happy, having no experience with children, certainly not drooling, excitable ones who seem to have an affinity to consulting detectives. No matter how much he tried ignoring the child, it was unswayed to leave the detective's side.

The toddler in question was from an old friend of John's, who had needed to go to a certain event that had apparently included all their friends and family and such, leaving the only person to look after the child to be ex-army doctor. All according to Sherlock, that is.

"Oh shut up you big baby, can't you tell he finds you fascinating?" John replied with an amused expression on his face, sipping his tea.

Sherlock shifted uneasily in his chair, not wanting to get the onslaught of baby slobber on his expensive trousers, but the toddler simply clung with its tiny hands. Sherlock's expression was distasteful. "Obviously, but must it salivate so much?"

John rolled his eyes in response. "Deal with it."

At this the detective looked at the doctor carefully, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

"How?"

John smiled at Sherlock's naivety. "Why don't you start by hosting him up onto your lap?"

Sherlock looked incredulous. "Now why would I want to do that?"

"Just trust me."

Sighing, the detective leaned forward, gingerly gripping the child's sides, and lifted him up, settling the drooling mess onto his knees. The child shrieked excitedly at the sign of attention and his proximity to the great sleuth, arms flaying excitably about. Sherlock winced back at the sudden scream, worried eyes quickly meeting with the good doctor's smiling ones.

"John…"

"Shh", he hushed the panicking detective, standing. "I'll get a cloth to wipe the slobber."

John retreated to the kitchen where he miraculously was able to find a clean piece of cloth amongst the disastrous mess known as Sherlock's experiments.

"Do hurry up John!" The child was attempting to grab the consulting detective's curls, whilst the man himself was barely dodging the assaulting chubby hands.

"Okay, okay", the doctor complied coming to Sherlock's side, but smirking at the great detective's rising panic. Sherlock, seeing the expression slightly pouted but remained silent as John gently wiped away the saliva from the toddler's chin. When he was sure the child was wiped clean, he handed the slightly damp cloth to Sherlock, "in case he drools more", and sat back down in his chair.

Carefully steadying the toddler on his lap, the detective took a moment to gain a proper look at the child. The little one simply stared back, mesmerised by Sherlock's face; pale skin, piercing eyes, dark hair… no doubt the child found the sleuth otherworldly. Engrossed in studying the child, Sherlock had unintentionally leaned his face closer to towards the toddler, analysing every bit of the young, plump face.

Suddenly the child let out another shrill happy shriek and before Sherlock could pull back, he had slapped his two small chubby hands either side of the detective's face. Sherlock jerked in surprise, startled by the child's behaviour, however unable to move away. The toddler simply wasn't letting go of the man's face. Instead he was moving he hands all over, squishing the great sleuth's cheeks in all sorts of directions, smiling gleefully.

Trapped, Sherlock turned pleading and rather desperate eyes on John, who, to the consulting detective's dismay and embarrassment, was failing to stifle his laughter. Those ice blue eyes narrowed.

"John..!"

The detective's baritone voice come out distorted due to the toddler's fingers splayed on his cheeks, contorting his perfectly high cheek boned-face, but still managed to draw the chuckling doctor's attention. Smirking mischievously, John stood up once more, "Hold on, I have an idea."

Letting out a little relieved sigh, Sherlock turned his attention back to the toddler at hand, quirking an eyebrow at the little one's enthusiasm with his face. But then he heard a click.

"John, what…?" Finally breaking his face away from the child's grasp, Sherlock had turned towards the sound but froze. Standing just a few feet away, John stood with his phone, holding it up briefly then quickly tapping away at the screen before he looked back up at Sherlock, grinning triumphantly.

"Did you just..?!"

"Oh yes"

"You… delete it this instant!"

"Too late. Greg would have shown the whole of Scotland Yard by now." John's exuberance was radiating off his whole being.

"John! Why the hell would you…! Wait, who's Greg?"

"Lestrade! And I did it to show them how human you are, playing with a little toddler." The doctor was smiling fondly, clearly happy to have captured the rare moment.

Sherlock on the other hand, was clearly not very pleased. "You mean assaulted by a little toddler." the great sleuth mumbled, now pouting more than ever. "There goes my reputation, brought down by a mere child."

"Oh Sherlock, grow up. Your precious reputation will still be intact." John joked, walking over to where Sherlock and the child were sitting. "Here, I'll take him now."

"Well about time." the detective muttered grumpily before handing the little one over to John.

John held the child close to him, making little hops in the one spot, as he started to speak in a sing-song voice, "We make a great team don't we?" The toddler giggled in delight at the attention. "Oh yes we do," the doctor cooed affectionately, then turning to face the disgruntled detective, still in his sing-song voice, added, "Sorry Sherlock, I think I found a new partner."

Sherlock's looked even more irritated, opting for sarcasm to further show his displeasure at the situation. "In which case you have undoubtedly found someone clearly matching your intelligence level."

But John was in too much of a good mood to care about the consulting detective's moodiness.

"I really don't think this baby has the intelligence of a fully grown man, Sherlock." John teased back good-naturedly. Sherlock huffed in annoyance.

"You planned this," The detective didn't really mean it the accusation, but he couldn't help but feel childish when it came to his ego. However, Sherlock knew by rote that if he kept complaining, John will be sure to make it up to him somehow. Very childish indeed.

"Actually, yes I did."

John's voice was back to normal, and he was now once again, smirking at the very bewildered detective.

"What-! You did?!"

"Oh, yes"

At this point the good doctor, out of all the years living in 221b Baker St, had never seen the great sleuth sulk as much as he was now. In a flash, Sherlock had drawn in knees to his chest, hugging them to himself tightly, dropping his brow to his knees. Seeing a man dressed so impeccably whilst hunched in a juvenile position, would have made anyone question the detective's mental health. But no, this was Sherlock, and for Sherlock, and anybody who knew him well enough, this was normal.

"Sherlock…" John started, sighing. The toddler in his arms was now roughly carding his hands through the doctor's hair, intrigued by the ruffles it caused. He knew he was going to have to make it up to him now. Big time. But it was so worth it. Sherlock's response was muffled by his trousers.

John sighed again. "Sorry what was that?"

Sherlock jerked his head up sharply. "I said, I knew that somebody else could have cared for the child!"

John figured the only way to deal with the unhinged Sherlock was through patience.

"M'yes, Sherlock you're right. But if you're going to get a toddler get to you, then you might as well not be the great Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock simply scowled at him. After looking at Sherlock for a thoughtful moment, John retrieved his phone from his jacket pocket and held it out.

The consulting detective's gaze dropped down to the offered phone, before meeting John's navy eyes again. "Well? What do you want me do to with it?"

"Take it and look at the photo."

Tentatively, seemingly almost afraid to see to lay eyes on the offending (to Sherlock of course) picture, the sleuth's large veiny hand reached out and took the phone from the doctor's offered one. Sharing once last glance with his ever-patient John, Sherlock lowered his gaze to the photo. Immediately, the detective's expression softened and he uttered a small "Oh."

The picture depicted the detective and the small toddler holding each other; Sherlock's large hands grasped the little's ones sides whilst his own face was held tightly by those small chubby hands. The child's expression in the photograph was one of pure joy while the great sleuth was looking at him, through his slightly mushed up face, in an amused gaze, small smile, quirked eyebrow and all. To make the photo even more momentous, the afternoon sun had been streaming into the flat, casting both baby and detective in halos of light, bringing out the true colours in their hair and eyes.

Seeing Sherlock's expression change into one of awe, John found himself mildly surprised but much more relieved. However, after about a minute of Sherlock's intense gazing at the phone, John found himself a bit concerned.

"Um, Sherlock…?"

John's words jerked the consulting detective from his deep thoughts, causing him to jump up lightning fast, with a vaguely crazed look in his eyes. "John! I must leave at once! I'll be back soon!" Sherlock exclaimed as he rushed to put his coat and scarf on. He then abruptly left the flat, with John's phone still clutched tightly in his right hand.

In the middle of 221b, a heavily confused John was left spluttering his bewilderment, whilst still holding the unfretted child, in the aftermath of Sherlock's sudden and dramatic leave.

Half an hour later, a hurried stomping on the stairs marked Sherlock's return.

A second later, the flat's door burst open revealing a panting and flushed man with unruly side-swept hair in the midst of an adrenaline rush, still clasping the door knob tightly upon his arrival to keep from falling over in his obvious excitement.

"John!"

John looked up from his place on the sofa, laptop on lap, eyes lighting up in mirth at the drastic yet funny sight before him. The ex-army doctor found himself almost chuckling at the all-too similar scene before him. Funny how they are both mad men, he marvelled to himself.

"Well hello there… Kramer" John smirked.

Sherlock did a double take behind him, somewhat surprised to find the doctor simply sitting on the couch, typing away as though his day was uneventful. The detective closed the door behind him, brows slightly pulled in confusion.

"Who's Kramer?"

John simply smirked even more "No-one."

The detective rolled his eyes in slight annoyance before noting that it was hardly worth his time at the moment. That was when he noticed the toddler's absence.

"Where is the child?"

"His mum picked him up a few minutes ago. You just missed them."

"Oh," the consulting detective quickly masked his slight disappointment with his usual arrogant demeanour. "Just as well, I needed to tend to my experiments and he would have just been in the way."

John gave Sherlock a small smile before responding, "Sure you do."

Sherlock wasn't too sure what John had meant so he decided to ignore it and simply extended his hand out.

"Wallet"

The doctor raised an eyebrow at Sherlock's demand but didn't object. Reaching into his back jean pocket, John withdrew his wallet and handed it to the waiting detective. Then he decided to ask his question.

"What do you-?"

"Shh, you'll see."

Sherlock quickly took a piece of paper from his coat pocket before opening the wallet and slipping it inside in-between one of the wallet's folds and closing it.

"There" Sherlock flashed a triumphant smile as he passed it back to John.

Very curiously now, John reopened his wallet to find a small token awaiting inside. The doctor's face broke out into an easy wide smile. Inside the wallet, slotted into a clear, see-through fold, was the perfect picture of the child and Sherlock together. The doctor's heart leapt at being able to have this tangible piece of human Sherlock… Sherlock with all his barriers down, and being oh so refreshingly human. For John, it was truly perfect. And, even better, it was his! Wherever he went, the picture will, on all occasions, be with him.

Meeting Sherlock's expectant and slightly nervous gaze, John's smile only grew bigger. "Sherlock…thankyou," he breathed, delighted at the detective's thoughtfulness, a rare commodity. The detective's returning smile was genuine, eyes glinting in rejoice at John's happiness.

Both men knew they wouldn't forget this moment of connection, alas deep down both wistfully wanting to take a photo of each other's joyous expressions. No matter, both detective and doctor were sure to engrave the mental image before the golden moment ended…

…although little did they know the British Government was snapping his own photos of the pair from a well-hidden camera in the bookshelf corner.

…cheeky Mycroft!

So that's that. My first baby!lock oneshot whoopwhoop ^.^

P.S hope you didn't mind my Seinfeld reference too much... the mental image was too funny to resist putting in the story. Ehehehe