A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! So...I know I posted this a few days late for Father's Day, but I was inspired so here you go lol...super fluffy one for you all...this is a song fic to the song Daddy's Hands by Holly Dunn...covered by none other than....Yours Truly!! That's right babies..I am including my own cover of this song for you all to listen to...don't judge me too harshly....The quality sucks and I look terrible, but I love the song, and I finally got my 12 string back and wanted to play....I really hope you like it!!! Enjoy<3

John and Sherlock were guided to their seats, John accepting the program handed to him with a kind smile. They had been seated in the front row, since they were parents, and wound up dead centre of the stage.

They were at Rosie's high school's Father's Day Concert, and Sherlock was practically vibrating with excitement. Rosie was preforming today, and Sherlock had never felt such immense pride.

Since she was registered under Watson, she wasn't going to preform until the very end, and Sherlock bounced his knee restlessly as the lights dimmed.

The kids that went ahead of Rosie were mediocre, stumbling their way through their songs and all of them blushing with embarrassment.

"That girl is singing half a step flat-"

"Shut up Sherlock." Finally, it was Rosie's turn, and Sherlock felt John grab his arm, grinning excitedly up at him.

Rosie walked onstage, her guitar slung over her shoulder, and Sherlock felt a swell of pride for the girl.

Rosie looked so much like John, from her stature to the way her lips curled into a confident smile as she took her place on the stool at centre stage. She adjusted her microphone and plugged her guitar in, sending a wink towards John and Sherlock.

Rosie looked like she belonged up there, grinning down at the crowd and plucking a few notes on her guitar to catch people's attention.

"Hello everyone. My name is Rosie Watson, and this song is called 'Daddy's Hands', and it's dedicated to my two amazing dads, the best dads a girl could ask for." Sherlock blushed and John grinned and wrapped his arms tighter around Sherlock's.

Rosie started strumming a pleasant rhythm, filling the air with the sounds of her guitar, and as she started to sing, the screen behind her lit up with pictures of John and Sherlock.

I remember Daddy's hands, folded silently in prayer

And reaching out to hold me, when I had a nightmare

Pictures of John grinning down at a crying baby Rosie, of Sherlock stretched out on their sofa, little Rosie curled up on his chest, both sound asleep.

You could read quite a story, in those calluses and lines

Years of work and worry, have left their mark behind

Pictures of Sherlock hunched over the microscope, looking like a mad scientist in his too-large lab coat and ridiculous safety goggles that John had insisted he wear.

Pictures of John at the clinic, how Rosie got those, Sherlock would never guess, blood staining the front of his own lab coat as he clearly rushed to save someone's life.

Sherlock remembered that day. A little boy had been shot, died on the table. John had a danger night that night, nearly drank himself to death. He had never really recovered from that.

I remember Daddy's hands, how they held my Father tight

That picture of their first dance as husbands that Sherlock loved so much filled the screen. John's grin was so pure and happy in that picture, and it always gave Sherlock so much joy to see it.

And patted my back, for something done right

Pictures from Rosie's first concert, her first violin lesson, her first day of school. Sherlock heard John sniffle beside him and leaned closer so his husband could rest his head on his shoulder.

Daddy's hands, were soft and kind when I was crying

Daddy's hands, were hard as steel when I'd done wrong

The pictures that continuously filled the screen were older now, pictures from the beginning of John and Sherlock's relationship, back before they really had a name for what they were. You could still see the pain in John's eyes, and the vulnerability in Sherlock's, but that was almost surpassed by the insurmountable love there.

Daddy's hands weren't always gentle, but I've come to understand

There was always love in Daddy's hands

Sherlock felt John sob quietly as a picture of them just after the morgue flashed on the screen. The distance between them was as plain as the wounds on Sherlock's face.

That painful reminder was immediately replaced by a candid shot of them, Sherlock sitting in his chair, his face cupped tenderly in John's hands as the doctor smiled lovingly down at him. It was raw, pure, the perfect representation of their love, and Sherlock couldn't fight the tears that slipped from his own eyes.

I remember Daddy's hands, working till they bled

Sacrificed unselfishly, just to keep us all safe

Sherlock covered his mouth with a trembling hand when the next image filled the screen. His fall from St. Bart's hospital, his frame caught mid-decent.

If I could do things over, and live my life again

I would never take for granted, the love in Daddy's hands

Another candid shot of John and Sherlock, this one depicting the lanky detective draped over John's shoulders, pointing at something in front of them as the doctor laughed.

Daddy's hands, were soft and fine when I was crying

Daddy's hands, were hard as steel when I'd done wrong

The pictures that filled the screen were all candid shots now, precious moments between Sherlock, his husband, and his daughter that made his heart swell with fresh emotions and tears fall from his eyes in a steady stream.

Daddy's hands weren't always gentle, but I've come to understand

There was always love in Daddy's hands

Rosie sang through the chorus once more before ending the song, the crowd jumping to their feet and cheering. John and Sherlock clapped and cheered the loudest, pride for their little girl overwhelming.

"I love you guys, thanks for being the best dads in the world. Happy Father's Day!" Rosie waved at her father's before sauntering off the stage, every bit as confident and gorgeous as John.

The show ended and John and Sherlock were about to make their way backstage when John's phone buzzed.

Stay there, it will be easier to find you – R

Alright Bumble – JW

Be right out – R

"She'll be out in a moment." John said, standing and moving so he was in his usual spot, standing between Sherlock's knees with his hands cupping his cheeks. He had started standing there whenever he noticed the detective's mind starting to wander away, finding that it helped the younger man to ground himself when all he could see and smell and feel was John. It quickly became habitual for them. "What are you thinking about My Love?"

"She really thinks of me as her father, doesn't she?" Sherlock whispered, fresh tears filling his eyes. John's heart broke a bit at those words, and he leaned down and kissed his husband sweetly.

"Of course she does Love. You raised her, taught her what it means to love, and how to take care of herself. You are as much her father as I am."

"Not really John, you have a biological connection to her, something I couldn't possibly share-"

"No, but that doesn't mean she is any less your daughter. Any fool can be a dad, but it takes a real man to be a father." Sherlock blushed and tried to hide his face, but John wasn't having that and he caught his husband's lips in another kiss.

"I love you John."

"I love you too Sherlock."

"Gross, get a room you two!" Rosie whined, pulling a chuckle from the men. Sherlock pushed John aside for a moment and pulled his daughter in for a hug, unable to contain the tears that slid down his cheeks. "I love you Papa."

"I love you too, My Dear Watson. I'm so proud of you."

"Same here Bumble." John pulled the girl into his own arms, pressing a kiss to her hair and blinking the tears from his own eyes. "That was amazing! I'm so glad you got your Papa's musical talents." Rosie and John laughed, but Sherlock just looked confused.

"She couldn't have inherited my musical abilities John, she is not my biological daughter-"

"What, what?" Rosie looked affronted and John could see the panic on Sherlock's face. "You mean to tell me that I'm not related to both of you?" John couldn't resist giggling at the fear on his husband's face as he clearly scrambled for an answer. Rosie broke down in giggles alongside John, winding her arm around Sherlock's waist and hugging him tightly. "I love messing with you Papa."

John could see the moment Sherlock figured it out, the slight embarrassment followed by irritation and love making his chest tighten with affection for the pair.

"Come on you two, let's go get something to eat." Sherlock looked at him, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Dinner?"

"Starving." John winked down at his daughter, before taking his husband's hand and leading them out of the school.

"Happy Father's Day Dad, Papa."