Chapter Text
John’s work day was finally coming to an end. It had been an extremely busy day that had left him very exhausted and very hungry. It seemed like half of London was coming down with some sickness or other in the cold winter months and he was very glad to be going home for the weekend. After working straight through his lunch break, he was at least able to get through each appointment without having to stay late.
The doctor felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his trousers as he slipped on his coat. He waved goodbye to the staff and stepped out of the surgery before he slipped it out and glanced down at the text alert on the screen.
Hyde Park.
Come at once, if convenient.
SH
John’s heart sank slightly as he shook his head and let out a sigh. All he really wanted was to go straight home, take a shower, and relax in his chair while he read to Rosie or listened to Sherlock play his violin. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to go chasing criminals all bloody night. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand as his phone went off, yet again. Another vibration; another text.
If inconvenient, come anyway.
SH
Irritation was building in the doctor’s tired body as he typed out his reply. Sometimes, he really couldn’t believe Sherlock’s timing. He’d meant it when he’d told the detective he’d do anything for him, but there were times when he wished he could take the night off.
Can’t it wait? Not had the best day. Would really rather just have a quiet night in with you and Rosie tonight.
JW
Even as he hit ‘Send’, he could feel the guilt bubbling up inside his chest. He really hated to disappoint his husband, but the doctor just didn’t have it in him, tonight. He was very ready to get home and get his arms around the two people he loved most. Rosie could make his worst day brighter just by smiling up at him with her sweet blue eyes and bouncing curls. Having Sherlock at home would make things even better, but he would never try to keep his detective away from a case. Although he was married to John, he still maintained a vigorous love affair with his work and, honestly, John wouldn’t have him any other way.
His phone vibrated again and he checked the display once more. This time, a picture was attached to the message. As John pulled up the image, he felt all of his irritation melt away at the sight on his screen. Sherlock was lying flat on his back in the snow holding his phone out just far enough from his face to get a decent angle. His wild curls were wind blown and splayed out in every direction in the soft snow while he schooled his expression into a subtle pout. His brows were knit together just right as his brilliant blue eyes stood out against the pale of his skin and that full bottom lip protruding out ever so slightly gave John a fierce desire to kiss him senseless. The handsome detective wore his signature Belstaff coat and blue scarf and John could just see a flash of red in the edge of the frame… Rosie’s winter coat.
A tired smile washed over the doctor’s face as he read the accompanying text.
Care to reconsider…?
SH
He turned to hail a cab, sending a quick message back before climbing into the back seat and giving the cabbie the address.
How could I not? ;) See you soon
JW
—
The taxi pulled to a stop as John paid his fare and stepped out onto the pavement. Making his way through the arched gates, he took the path to his right as he scanned the park for his family. The snow was thick on the grass and trees, painting a picturesque Christmas card in front of him everywhere he looked. A young man and woman were walking arm in arm ahead of him - smiling and giggling privately as they talked between themselves - and he felt his thoughts drifting to his handsome detective as he walked along the path.
He would always remember the first night he’d ever brought Sherlock here. They had been on their first proper date; he’d taken him to Angelo’s - sentiment, of course - and then to watch a world class orchestra, which had truly taken Sherlock by surprise. Their impromptu walk through the park hadn’t been part of John’s original plan, but he still regarded it as one of the highlights of the night. It had been a lovely September night and the detective had been talking animatedly as they walked, reiterating to the doctor each of the different themes the music from the night’s concert had depicted. If there was one thing that his partner loved as much as he loved his cases - outside of John that is, it was music. Music gave Sherlock an outlet to express himself and helped him navigate the murky waters of emotions in ways that he could actually understand and apply to his own personal experiences. Hence the reason John thought the orchestra had been a brilliant idea. He had chosen it to show Sherlock that he understood his love for music and had even come to share it. Listening to the detective explain things that evening had been such a wonder. The delight was clear in his eyes and John would have given anything to have framed Sherlock in that tiny moment in time to have kept forever.
That night had seemed forever ago as John continued walking along in search of Sherlock and Rosie. The Christmas that had followed their first real date brought about their original engagement and had been the last happy one they had spent together until Rosie brought them back together many years later. In between, there had been a number of things that both of them had regretted - the Fall, two years of torture and separation that led John to marry Mary, Sherlock’s return to drug use, and then, of course, Mary’s death. Thinking back, it was unreal the sort of turn their lives had taken after their last Christmas before the Fall. As much as it hurt sometimes, John couldn’t resent it completely because it had given them Rosie, after all, and Sherlock adored her with every fibre of his being. There were times that he believed the only reason he had met Mary at all was to bring such a wonderfully, affectionate little girl into this world.
As John rounded the next bend in the path, he caught the faint whisper of a giggle close by that he knew all too well. Straining his ears to listen closely, he scanned the area around him quickly. A flash of red from behind a nearby bush gave them away and John’s smile spread so wide it almost hurt. He left the path to trudge through the snow and called for them as he got closer.
“Sherlock? Rosie? Where are you?” he shouted, cupping his hand to project the sound.
The spritely giggle sounded again as a deep whisper shushed her through its own chuckle. They had always been terrible at hide and seek at home and this was the primary reason. John stepped closer to their hiding spot, trying hard not to give himself away as he crept along. The doctor’s luck failed him however and, just as he reached the bush, Sherlock shouted, “Now!”, prompting an ecstatic Rosie to jump out from behind the bush and begin pelting her father with an armful of snowballs.
John’s eyes widened in surprise as the first one hit him in the shoulder while the second one sailed right past his head. He ducked when she threw a third and darted off in a zig-zagging run to avoid her continued assault. “Hey!” he shouted, looking back over his shoulder as she chased after him, “Don’t I get a hug instead? I’ve worked hard all day! Can’t we call it a truce?”. He laughed heartily as her next attempt hit him in the back of the head, scattering snow all through his hair and down the back of his collar.
Rosie’s laughter echoed his own and her small voice shouted back at him, “No way! Papa said to keep you distracted! So, you better watch out!”. She gathered up another handful of snow as he turned to face her and threw it hard at his chest. John dodged out of the way again, just in time, then raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.
“Oh? And what am I supposed to be watching out for?” he asked, his curiosity evident in his smile.
Strong arms circled around his waist from behind and Sherlock’s deep baritone chuckle rumbled against John’s ear as the detective wrapped him in a tight hug. “Me…” he breathed into the doctor’s ear, sending a light shudder through his body. “You let your guard down, soldier,” Sherlock whispered and pressed a kiss to John’s cheek as he leaned over his shoulder.
The doctor let himself relax into his husband’s touch as he tilted his face to look up at the taller man. The lazy smile Sherlock wore was warm and affectionate, but the gleam in his eyes said John was in for quite a night once they were home. He let a quiet laugh slip out as he pressed his lips to the detective’s before he replied.
“Ah, that I did… I suppose I’m your prisoner, now, then?”.
Rosie laughed out loud as Sherlock’s eyebrows shot up comically, “Oh, well, if you insist…”. The detective purred out the words in a low growl as he dropped his lips to the sensitive skin exposed at John’s neck.
Sliding a hand up into Sherlock’s hair, John laughed and rolled his eyes dramatically for Rosie to see. Her smile was wide and her eyes glittered with happiness as she watched the detective continue his playful assault. The doctor felt the tickling sensation as his partner’s stubble brushed against his skin and fought to pull away before he melted into a puddle of giggles; Sherlock knew how sensitive his neck was.
The taller man tightened his grip and buried his face deeper in John’s neck, purring against his skin. The tickling he felt was almost too much to bear as he squirmed and began to laugh uncomfortably. “Ah, no… Sherlock, too much, you git. Rosie, help me!” he managed to cry out with a smile in between fits of hysterical laughter. He twisted in Sherlock’s grip, trying to break the hold he had on him.
Rosie shook her head with a giggle and rushed over to work her way up between them. The detective inched his body back enough so as to make room for her, but kept his face buried in John’s neck. The young girl tugged hard at Sherlock’s coat and jumped up to hang onto his arm.
“Alright, Papa!” she laughed as she pulled the detective away from her father. “Kiss Daddy, later! We have to show him what we did! You promised,”.
At the young girl’s words, Sherlock glanced down to see Rosie looking up at him impatiently. He smiled at her and bent down to scoop her up in his arms. “Oh! You’re very right, Rosamund; I did promise, didn’t I?” he said, nuzzling his nose to hers. Her little eyes crinkled shut as he pressed a kiss to her nose and she leaned up to whisper something in his ear.
It had taken John a few moments to catch his breath, but he couldn’t believe he’d ever been tired before. The energy he got from his family was unlike any other rush and his heart felt ready to burst as he watched the exchange in front of him. Sherlock was nodding his head and listening intently as Rosie whispered excitedly. He tilted his head as if to consider something she had suggested, then cut his eyes to meet John’s, a soft smile spreading over his face as he winked at the doctor. John smiled back and mouthed the words “I love you” while he had his detective’s attention.
As the silent declaration washed over him, Sherlock blinked slowly and mouthed “Love you” right back at him. Rosie had paused her whispers and was looking at Sherlock expectantly when he turned his attention back to her.
“What do you think?” she asked, quietly, sending a cautious glance in John’s direction.
Sherlock seemed to mull the question over for a brief moment, smiling at John before nodded to Rosie in approval. “I think he’ll like it. We worked hard enough on it so, I’m sure he’ll find it satisfactory,” he replied, matter-of-factly. As Rosie grinned in response, he set her down in the snow and she raced over to take John by the hand.
“I want to show you what we made, today,” she explained as she led him off around the bushes to another open area, “but, close your eyes,”.
John let himself be dragged off and did exactly as she asked while Sherlock followed along behind them. After a couple minutes, they stopped walking and Rosie let go of her father’s hand; he could still hear her talking quietly to Sherlock as she gave him a few last minute instructions.
A moment later, he felt a tug at his sleeve. “Ok, you can open your eyes, Daddy,” Rosie instructed, a hint of pride in her little voice.
John opened his eyes and a broad smile graced his features as he took in the sight before him. Sherlock was smiling smugly and standing next to the most perfect snowman John had ever seen. It was taller than John was - almost as tall as Sherlock - and was perfectly proportioned in every way. The detective had removed his favorite blue scarf and wrapped it around the ‘neck’ of the snowman and, atop its curved head, sat the famous deerstalker hat.
As Rosie ran to stand next to Sherlock, she was grinning from ear to ear as she watched her father’s reaction. “Do you like it?” she asked, hopefully.
John smiled down at her and knelt down to swallow her up in a hug. “Do I like it? Rosie, darling, it’s fantastic! You did a great job and, if I must say, he does look vaguely familiar,” he said, pretending to be in deep thought as he stared at the snowman.
Rosie rolled her eyes and patted his head, condescendingly, “It’s Papa, Daddy. I thought even you could see that,”. She smirked as John looked back at her in mock disapproval.
“Ah, someone’s cheeky, aren’t they?” he teased, kissing her cheek with a laugh. The doctor looked up at Sherlock, who was watching them with a silent smile. “Thank you for doing this with her. It looks amazing and I know you two had a wonderful time,”.
The detective shrugged and motioned to the snowman with a jerk of his head, “It was quite enjoyable, especially after we worked out the correct equations to configure the precise measurements to ensure the most effective results. We had quite a bit of fun trying to scale it to my height and weight,”.
Realisation struck John and his smile faltered slightly, “Wait… you created an equation and tested out methods all afternoon to construct a perfect snowman?”. The thought of Sherlock and Rosie leaning over the desk in their flat engrossed in a heated discussion about the building properties of snow almost made John laugh out loud.
Sherlock’s brow furrowed and he stared down at John in confusion. “Yes, of course… how else does one expect to build anything? Much less something made out of a material as difficult as snow,” he answered, his mind trying its best to wrap itself around the idea.
John squeezed Rosie one last time and stood up to face his partner. As he reached out to tangle his fingers in the curls at the nape of Sherlock’s neck, a rush of affection washed over him and he kissed the detective, softly. “That… is probably the sweetest thing I have ever seen you do… and I’m very, very lucky that we have you and get to call you ours,” John said, pressing another light kiss to the bridge of his partner’s nose. “You are absolutely perfect. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve to get you back. After all those years, here we are… and it’s even better than it was before,”.
Sherlock felt his face flush as heat flooded his cheeks at the praise, and he shrugged his shoulders, “It’s really nothing, John. I adore Rosamund… and I hope you know that I would do anything for either of you -“. But his words were cut short as John crashed their lips together in a fierce kiss. The doctor’s tongue brushed against Sherlock’s bottom lip and he relaxed his jaw to allow him in. As John’s tongue swirled around his own, the detective felt his knees growing weaker and he tugged at the back of John’s coat in warning.
The shorter man broke their kiss, reluctantly, and rested his forehead against Sherlock’s cheek. After taking a moment to regulate his breathing, he raised his gaze to meet the detective’s and nuzzled his cheek. “You are amazing and I can’t tell you just how much I love you…” he whispered, pulling Sherlock closer against him so the detective could feel the pressure that had built up at his groin. He smiled and relished the short intake of breath as Sherlock’s eyes widened slightly.
“Really, John?” the taller man smirked, feigning annoyance.
“Yes, really… and I believe you were the one who sent that little signal in the first place, so why don’t we get home and get Rosie to bed?” John asked, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he stole one last quick kiss.