The Arrival

John, there's someone I want you to meet. SH

18:14

Alright. And who would that be? JW

18:14

My son. SH

18:15

Pardon? JW

18:15

Yes, that's exactly what I said. My son. SH

18:15

I didn't know you had a son. JW

18:16

Neither did I. I just found out. SH

18:16

How, exactly? JW

18:16

His mother's best friend just came in

here with him. At first I thought they

were clients, but then she explained

everything. SH

18:17

And what would "everything" mean? JW

18:17

His name is Hamish, he is 8 years

old and his mother recently died

in a car accident. Drinking and

driving, possibly.

SH

18:19

Hamish. Okay. And how

does her best friend know you're the boy's

father? JW

18:20

She says she remembers me, from

9 years ago, and recognized me from

the papers. I wouldn't disagree with

her, the little bastard looks exactly

like me. SH

18:20

So what now? Are we moving a kid

into the flat? JW

18:20

Well, yes. He doesn't cause too much

trouble. He refuses to talk to me anyway.

He's currently walking around the flat

messing with everything he sees.

I hope he doesn't open the fridge. SH

18:22

Update: he opened the fridge. His first words

to me were "Are you a serial killer?" I'm resisting

the urge to say "yes" just to see his reaction. SH

18:27

Don't. JW

18:17

I told him I was a serial killer. He

smiled and said "Cool!". I like him. SH

18:27

Well he is definately your kid. I'll be

home in a few minutes. JW

18:28

I don't want to be a father, John, it

takes time, patience and money. SH

18:28

You have time, I have patience, and your brother

has money. By the way, does he know about the

kid? JW

18:29

Oh, I almost forgot about him. He will

love the news. SH

18:29

Update: He asked me who I was texting,

I said "John" and he asked me if you were

my husband. Great. SH

18:19

Tell him we're just flatmates. JW

18:30

That's what I just did. Are you getting home? SH

18:30

"Yes I am." John said opening the door to the flat.

"John!" Sherlock stood up "Hamish, come here, please. This is my flatmate, John Hamish Watson." The boy raised an eyebrow and waved at him, without a word. Sherlock leaned closer to John and mumbled "Deal with this, you're better." John sighed. "That's very delicate of you, Sherlock." He then turned to the little boy and shook his hand "Nice to meet you, Hamish. You look exactly like your father." It was true. He had Sherlock's eyes and cheekbones. Hamish didn't even try to shake John's hand, his hand was instead, completely loose. John didn't pay much attention. He kneeled down to get to the same height as the kid. "I'm sorry about your mom. We will do our best to make you feel at home here." After hearing that, Hamish gave a small smile and unnexpectedly walked closer to John and hugged him, crying. Sherlock raised his eyebrows. John only smiled at him, still holding the boy. "Shhh, it's okay, it's going to be okay." That was the only thing John could say to comfort the kid. "Thank you, John." Hamish smiled. After that hug he seemed to feel better. At least good enough to continue walking around the flat while John prepared the dinner.

"You're not a serial killer." was the next thing Sherlock heard from Hamish, a couple of hours later. He was reading the newspaper. "You're a detective." He said smiling.

"Yes, I'm a consulting detective." Sherlock said, and contempled Hamish's confused face. "It means that when the police doesn't know what to do, they ask me." Hamish shrugged. "is John a detective too? He's in the picture with you."

"No, actually, he's an army doctor, but sometimes he works as my assistant."

"Neat." Hamish stood up to look at Sherlock's bookshelf, taking a book or two from it.

"Do you enjoy reading?" Sherlock asked, watching his son.

"Do you enjoy breathing?" Hamish replied with irony. They heard John giggling from the kitchen. Sherlock then turns to him "I'm so proud" he said with a smile. Hamish smiled too. These guys weren't bad, after all.

After dinner, the three of them were watching the telly.

"I'm tired." Hamish yawned "Where will I sleep?" Sherlock and John stared at eachother. There were only two bedrooms, both being used. "You can have my bedroom. I will sleep on the sofa today" John answered.

"Wait, you don't sleep in the same bedroom?" The kid raised an eyebrow. John cleaned his throat and blushed in embarassment "No, we don't. We're not together or anything, we just share the flat. Just friends." He replied with a small frown on his face.

"Yeah, right" Hamish giggled. Sherlock looked at John, confused.

"For an eight year old you're pretty sarcastic, huh?" John replied.

"Goodnight John. Goodnight, Sherlock." Hamish left the room and walked upstairs to John's bedroom.

"Don't forget to take a shower and brush your teeth." John said looking as Hamish left. "Sherlock, where's Mrs. Hudson? She should be home by now."

"Don't know. Probably at Speedy's" he replied.

"So, are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"What happened 9 years ago. I thought you were-"

"I know just as much as you do. I don't remember anything like that. Not a face, not a name, anything. The only thing I remeber is waking up somewhere strange and saying out loud "note to self: Never use drugs in public places again." His mom had drinking problems, I was on drugs, there is nothing to talk about."

"Okay, then." John shrugged. Sherlock stood up "goodnight, John" he left to his bedroom, while John let himself lay on the sofa. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but soon enough John also fell asleep.


Author's note: The next chapters will be posted soon, once in each 2 days. I hope you enjoyed the first one, and don't forget to leave a review!