Work Text:
𝗥𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗲'𝘀 𝗕𝗶𝗴 𝗗𝗮𝘆
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Chapter 1: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗔𝗻𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁
The morning started with the sound of clinking dishes and the faint hum of a violin from the sitting room of 221B Baker Street. John was at the kitchen counter, buttering toast for his eight-year-old daughter, Rosie, while Sherlock sat at the table, examining a suspicious-looking vial of liquid.
“Daddy,” Rosie began, her voice heavy with determination.
“Yes, sweetheart?” John responded absently, placing the toast in front of her.
“I’ve decided I want my ears pierced.”
The butter knife slipped from his fingers, landing with a clatter on the plate. Sherlock froze mid-inspection of the vial. Both men turned to her, though their reactions couldn’t have been more different.
“Absolutely not,” Sherlock said immediately.
“Oh, come on, Sherlock,” John said, waving him off. “It’s normal for kids her age. All her friends probably have them.”
“Exactly my point,” Sherlock countered, setting the vial down. “Blind conformity to societal trends is—”
“I’m not conforming!” Rosie interrupted, puffing out her cheeks in indignation. “I just want to look pretty. Clara got hers pierced last week, and everyone said she looked so cool. Besides, it’s my choice!”
Sherlock arched an eyebrow. “A choice made under peer pressure is no choice at all.”
“Sherlock,” John warned, seeing Rosie’s eyes narrow.
“You’re the meanest dad ever!” she declared, crossing her arms with a huff.
Sherlock blinked, looking vaguely affronted, as though she’d just accused him of not understanding chemistry. John suppressed a grin and crouched down beside Rosie, his hands resting on her chair.
“It’s not about being mean, Rosie. Sherlock’s just worried about you,” he explained gently. “Getting your ears pierced can be a big deal, and we need to make sure it’s done safely, okay?”
Rosie considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. But I am getting them pierced, right?”
John glanced at Sherlock, who sighed deeply, his reluctance clear. “Fine. But only after we’ve conducted thorough research into the safest possible studio,” Sherlock conceded.
Rosie squealed with excitement, throwing her arms around both her fathers. Sherlock stiffened under the sudden hug, muttering something about sentiment being impractical, but John caught the faintest hint of a smile.
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Chapter 2: 𝗣𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗣𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴
The following week was a whirlwind of preparation. Rosie, ever the combination of her dads, approached the task with equal parts meticulous planning and enthusiasm.
“Daddy Sherlock, can you help me pick the best place?” she asked sweetly one evening.
Sherlock, flattered despite himself, immediately began analyzing reviews online and interrogating staff over the phone. Rosie perched beside him, doodling earrings in her notebook. John, meanwhile, supervised with an amused smile.
“Is this really necessary, Sherlock?” John asked, leaning over Sherlock’s shoulder to glance at the screen.
“Do you want our daughter to risk an unsterile environment?” Sherlock replied. “Look at this review—‘The technician’s gloves appeared slightly loose.’” He snorted. “Amateurs.”
By the end of the night, they had a list of three studios, one of which Sherlock deemed acceptable. Rosie beamed.
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Chapter 3: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗶𝗴 𝗗𝗮𝘆
The piercing studio was bright and cheerful, with posters of smiling children on the walls. Rosie bounced on her toes, holding John’s hand tightly. Sherlock followed behind, his sharp eyes scanning the room for flaws.
“It smells too strongly of lavender,” he muttered. “Clearly an attempt to mask something.”
“Sherlock, please,” John hissed.
Rosie chose pink heart-shaped earrings, which she declared “perfect.” She climbed into the chair, swinging her legs nervously.
“You can hold my hand, Rosie,” John offered, crouching beside her.
“I’m not scared,” she insisted, her voice wobbling slightly.
The piercer explained each step of the process, but when the needle approached, Rosie’s bravado crumbled. The first piercing was met with a loud wail, followed by fat tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Why did you let me do this?” she cried, burying her face in John’s shoulder.
John rubbed her back soothingly. “It’ll be over soon, love. Just one more, and then you’ll be all done.”
Sherlock, standing awkwardly nearby, cleared his throat. “Perhaps a distraction?” He pointed at the certificates on the wall. “Do you know what an autoclave does, Rosie?”
“No!” she sobbed, hiccupping.
“Sterilizes equipment,” he explained. “Crucial for avoiding infection.”
John shot him a look. “Not helping, Sherlock.”
After much coaxing, the second earring was finally in place. Rosie sniffled, clutching her teddy bear while John wiped her tears.
“See? You did it,” John said softly.
Rosie nodded, her voice trembling. “I guess I’m pretty brave.”
Sherlock arched a brow but wisely said nothing.
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Chapter 4: 𝗔 𝗖𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗧𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗿
The celebration was short-lived. A week later, Rosie’s left ear was red, swollen, and tender to the touch. She winced when John inspected it.
“It’s infected,” he said grimly.
“Impossible,” Sherlock declared. “We vetted that studio thoroughly.”
John shook his head. “Doesn’t matter how clean the studio was. Sometimes infections happen, especially if the piercing is fiddled with too much.” He shot a knowing look at Rosie, who had the grace to look sheepish.
“Did you touch it, sweetheart?” John asked gently.
“I just wanted to see if it was okay!” Rosie protested.
Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is precisely why I argued against this in the first place.”
“Not helping, Sherlock,” John snapped.
John cleaned the piercing carefully, applying antibiotic ointment while Rosie whimpered. She squirmed as he prepared a tetanus shot, her eyes wide with fear.
“No needles!” she cried, tears spilling over.
“Rosie, love, I know it hurts, but this will make sure you don’t get really sick,” John said softly.
Sherlock, surprisingly, crouched beside her, his voice calm. “Do you remember when you scraped your knee and refused to let me clean it? This is the same thing—preventative measures. Think of it as science, not pain.”
Rosie sniffled. “Science?”
“Yes,” Sherlock said. “And you can yell at me if it hurts.”
Rosie hesitated, then nodded. She squeezed Sherlock’s hand tightly as John administered the shot. She cried, of course, wailing about how unfair it all was, but by the time it was over, she was curled in John’s lap, hiccupping softly.
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Chapter 5: 𝗥𝗲𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗥𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻
Over the next few days, the infection began to clear up, thanks to John’s care. Rosie was milking her “ordeal” for all it was worth, demanding extra treats and bedtime stories.
“I’ll never get my ears pierced again!” she declared one evening, nestled between her dads on the sofa.
“Wise decision,” Sherlock murmured, earning a nudge from John.
“Don’t listen to him, Rosie,” John said. “You just had bad luck. Next time, we’ll be extra careful.”
Rosie shook her head firmly. “Nope. Earrings are stupid. I’m gonna be like Daddy Sherlock and never wear jewelry.”
Sherlock looked pleased. John rolled his eyes. “Great. Another victory for stubbornness.”
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𝗘𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲
That night, after tucking Rosie in, John and Sherlock sat in the quiet of the living room.
“She’s going to remember this forever, you know,” John said.
“Good. Perhaps it will teach her to listen to reason next time,” Sherlock replied.
John chuckled. “Parenting with you is never boring.”
Sherlock tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Nor is it with you, Doctor.”
In the baby monitor, Rosie’s soft snores filled the room. They both glanced at the screen, watching their daughter sleep.
And in that moment, all was right in their little corner of the world.
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