First Steps


What is it Sherlock?

Please come home.

Are you and Rosie okay?

Fine. Please come home immediatly.

What’s going on?

Something’s happening.
Come home now.

Did you burn our house down accidentally?

Just come home!

John dropped the bag of groceries, and practicaly ran out of Tesco.
“Where to mate?” The cabbie asked.
“Baker street. And hurry up.”
“All right mate, calm down.”

On my way.

Sherlock didn’t answer.
“You better be alive.” John muttered to himself as he impaitently looked out of the window.

Before the cab stopped John was already half out of the car. He threw 20 pounds at the driver.
“Keep the change!” He shouted as he ran upstairs.

“Sherlock! Sherlock are you okay?!”
He opened the door to the living room and found Sherlock sitting on the floor in his dressing gown. However the most surprising thing was Rosie.
She stood up by herself and carefully, very carefully, took small steps towards Sherlock.
“This is her first steps, John.”
Sherlock was sat with his back to John, carefully watching Rosie, being ready to catch her at any second.
Rosie spotted her dad and began laughing. She got too eager to impress and fell down and landed on her butt, still laughing.
“Oh John, you ruined it.”
John laughed and gave Sherlock a kiss on the cheek.
“I saw it. And it probably won’t be the last time she walked. Will it Rosie?” John asked and picked her up.
“She’s growing up so fast,” John said.
“She really is,” Sherlock agreed.
“Our little girl.”
Sherlock smiled and looked away.
“Oh come on, love. She’s OUR daughter. You know that.”
“I do know that.”
John gave him a kiss.
“The best dad she could ever ask for. That I could ever ask for. But now I have to take a trip to Tesco again.”
Sherlock laughed.
“I’ll ask Mrs. Hudson to by some nappies for Rosie while she’s out. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

a song i’d heard once in fragments

(on ao3 here)

Gleaming with raindrops in streetlight, the black cab pulls up effortlessly at 221 Baker Street. Sherlock gives the cabbie the appropriate change and sleekly swoops onto the pavement. The natural gravity of the car’s slant on the pavement along with the vehement breeze tilts the door shut effortlessly. He strides up to the door frame.

Shit. Okay. Here we go.

Keep reading


Settling With the Cabby, about 1895 by Jim Griffin

<br /><i>Via Flickr:</i>

Entrance to the 34th Street Long Island Ferry

The New Metropolis, Edited by E. Idell Zeisloft,
New York: D. Appleton & Company, 1899.


One on One with Jonathan Toews


One of my personal favorite Cabbie on the Street videos, naptime with the NHL