Sherlock is thorough in his education of Rosie. When she starts asking about clocks, watches, and time itself, he dives in like an eager schoolboy.
John thinks it’ll be sufficient to teach their daughter about digital numerals. Of course, Sherlock cannot agree to such outrageous and inadequate tutelage.
“She might come across analogue clocks or watches, John, and what then? They will seem like hieroglyphs to her; she won’t understand them. At all!”
“Calm down, my precious husband. She’s barely eight, you know.”
“The sooner she learns this, the sooner we can move on to other topics. It is never too early to start.”
“What other topics?” John asks suspiciously.
Sherlock just waves a hand in lieu of answering, as if to say: “Oh, you know. Useful skills.”
This does not placate John, but he knows which fights to pick and which to leave behind. For now, at least.
***
Sherlock does his research and brings Rosie to the Clockmaker’s Museum in South Kensington, which is a part of the Science Museum. There are clocks, watches, and chronometers; more than 1400 objects in fact. John is sceptical when Sherlock divulges where he’ll take their daughter on a Saturday morning, but in the end, he decides to trust his husband.
Rosie is in awe of all the different items, and when Sherlock presents the treasure hunt form, she beams up at him.
Of course, they start with the frightening and gruesome section.
Can you find a watch which looks like a skull – ugghhhhrr!
Sherlock shudders at the unseemly collection of letters at the end, but Rosie just laughs and tries to find the correct glass case, which to Sherlock’s delight are all numbered with Roman numerals.
Rosie is obviously not overly impressed by the metallic skull. There is after all a real human skull residing on their mantle back home.
The next object on the scary list, as Rosie calls it, is more to Sherlock’s liking.
A lock of hair from the beheaded King Charles in 1649 is believed to be in this case – please do not faint!
“As if,” he scoffs, while Rosie makes her way to the case with the number VI on it.
They move to the Explosive Stuff after that, much to Sherlock’s delight.
This clever clock rewinds itself by making its own really explosive gas – do not worry it is not working today!
“Pity,“ Sherlock mutters.
***
Once Rosie has found every object on the list, Sherlock decides to start the education for real. They walk around to look at the clocks now, which have larger faces and hands. He avoids the ones with Roman numerals since Rosie’s had enough of those after the hunt earlier.
The girl is just as curious as Sherlock was himself at her age, and she marvels at the ticking sounds the second hands make. She even startles a bit when the minute hand moves once the second hand has completed its revolution.
“Is time broken, papa?” she asks when they encounter a large grandfather clock that has stopped.
“Not as such. But most of these older clocks need to be wound up to work.”
“Do they get tired?”
Sherlock hides his smile and places a hand on his daughter’s nape.
“You could say that. They work relentlessly all day, always ticking and showing the correct time. That does sound exhausting.”
Rosie yawns and nods solemnly.
***
“Look, papa! They have that strange thing Uncle Myc has in his living room.”
“Ah, yes. That is a clock of sorts too, you know. It is called an hourglass.”
“Oh! Why is it called that? Does it only show one hour?”
“My clever girl! Though, the time depends on how much sand there is in them. They have been around for around one thousand years.”
“Wow! That’s old.”
“Hence why your uncle has one,” Sherlock smirks.
“Can we make one ourselves?” Rosie wants to know.
“Of course. There’s an instruction manual we can take home right there.”
“Brilliant! And when all the sand has run through, it will be as if time has stopped.”
“Well, yes. The hourglass is used to measure time, not to show it like clocks and watches do.”
“Like an old-fashioned stopwatch?”
“Exactly.”
***
Over dinner that evening, Rosie tells John all about their excursion.
“It was too bad you had to work, daddy. I had such fun!”
“I’m glad to hear it, sweetheart. Knowing how to read the time is a useful skill,” John replies and winks at Sherlock, who smiles knowingly at him.
“And in the end, I found another weird clock thing which is ill suited to show the time. At least in this rainy weather. Another time breaker.”
John lifts his eyebrows at his daughter, who rolls her eyes in a sherlockian fashion.
“A sundial. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” her parents mirthfully reply in unison.
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Hello! My name is Rosie and I am five years old. Actually, my name is Rosamund Watson. But Daddy and Papa call me Rosie. They like it. Papa sometimes says 'Little Watson' or 'Flower', because Rosie sounds a bit like a rose. I like that. Roses are pretty. They also have spikes. I can be spikey too! Like when Peter from kindergarten was mean to me today. He said it is 'freaky' to have two daddies and no mummy. But I told him, "I do have a mummy. But I don't know her because she is dead." And also I told him, "And also, having two daddies is always better than having just one!" Then I hit him.
Now I am in trouble because Papa sits on the other side of the table and looks at me all serious. He says, "I understand you were angry and hurt, when Peter said our family was 'freaky'. But hurting people is never a way to solve your problems. Do you understand?" Papa looks at me with his serious eyes. I look at his curls - they bounce funnily when you put your hands in them. I wish Papa stopped being mad at me, and let me put my hands in his hair again. I look away, I don't wanna look at Papa when he is angry. My eyes start to hurt.
"I am not mad at you, Watson." I listen up again. Papa is not mad? "But I want you to understand that instead of hurting, talking about your thoughts or your problem, is the best way to deal with your feelings. Do you understand that?"
I start to cry, "I understand, Papa."
"Oh, Flower. Come here!" I climb into Papa's lap. "Why are you crying? Do you want to tell me?"
"I am just- just glad, you aren't mad at me. I am sorry I hit Peter!"
"I am not mad at you, Rosie. You just need to learn these things and that's okay. Daddy and I need to learn to talk about our feelings, thoughts and problems, too. Without hurting each other. It took us a while and some help to figure that out, too. Life is a lesson. You never stop learning."
"Like learning to read and write and count in school?"
Papa laughs. "That is important too, but there is much more to learn. About feelings and many other topics."
I think about that for a bit. Then, I nod. "I think I get it, Papa."
"Good. Oh, I wanted to say that I like what you told Peter today, though. You stood up for yourself and your family. That is important and I am proud of you. When you do that it is called 'loyal'. You're just like your father - he is a very loyal man, too."
I think again. I like being like Daddy. He is strong and smart and funny. And he loves Papa and me a lot. I nod, "Alright." Then I hug Papa. I put my hands in his hair and let it bounce. "Can we go pick up Daddy now?"
Papa laughs again. "Not quite yet. Do you wanna go to the park in the meantime?"
I jump up. "YES!" I yell and run as fast as I can to get my backpack and put some snacks inside, because I really don't like being hungry.
When I have it, I run back. But Papa hasn't moved at all! So, I ask, "Why aren't you ready yet? Come on, let's go!"
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Sherlock Holmes:
Detective, Friend, Father
A series of short Adlock one-shots of Sherlock dealing with being a father, Irene dealing with being a mother, and them dealing that they have to be parents.
These will be really short chapters. Around less than 500 words, probably. I know, very unusual for me. But these are prompts I have gathered from the members of my Adlock discord server. Just wanna write short fics while I'm still writing the Karachi fic I haven't published yet.
Tags: parenthood, parent!lock, parentlock, sherlock dealing with being a father, irene dealing with being a mother, they both are terrified but they do their best, the reason irene kept nero will be revealed, fluff, well a little bit, the first few chapters will be angst, hurt/comfort, it'll be great in the end though, dw sherlock will love nero so much, the reason irene even got pregnant in the first place will be revealed too
aka
I was asleep when the members of my Adlock Discord Server were discussing about Sherlock as a dad. I read their discussion, and one hour later, I finished writing and was posting the first chapter of this fic. It just came to my head. It's their fault 🤣
I told them I'll probably write the next chapter tomorrow but my boyfriend is busy gaming and I was bored so I accidentally wrote the second chapter.
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"I vow to always protect you three." makes Sherlock Rosies God-parent. So it is just natural he helps John to raise her eventually. But god forbid, we suggest that.
Yeah, 7 years and I will be forever bitter about the fact that Mofftiss could not be normal about the most normal question.
John holds up the camera and waves a bit awkwardly.
"Hello, everyone! Sorry, it's been a while since my last video," he rubs the back of his neck a bit shyly. "Since Rosie has begun walking, it's been a lot busier around 221 B."
He points the camera at the flat, showing the hodgepodge of baby's toys and Sherlock's books and papers. "Tell me you live with two children without telling me you live with two children."
"I heard that," came the dry, unamused voice of Sherlock. "I put my chemicals on a higher shelf. I'm not a child, I listen."
"Yeah," John walks from the living area and into the kitchen where Sherlock is sitting behind his microscope. "Rosie still listens better than you."
"Give me one example," Sherlock leans away from his microscope and folds his arms expectantly.
"She goes down to bed when it's time for bed, with minimal whining," John begins. "She eats all of her vegetables, she lets me wipe her face when it's-"
"I let you wipe my face!"
"You thrash, Sherlock!"
"...Don't upload the video."
"Sherlock, it's live."
"..."
The live ends suddenly, with Sherlock a blur, rushing towards the camera.
