A/N: A few notes. This story takes place in my Family Holmes universe where Season 3 & 4 don't exist, although there are mention of Mary and David. This isn't an Mpreg or ex-Mpreg fic, William and Elizabeth's existence is partly down to Harry Watson. I'm currently re-writing parts of the first two stories in the Family Holmes-verse, which is why they're not on AO3, but the original versions are available on entitled Withdrawal and Waiting in the Wings, if you want to read them.
I wrote the original stories long before the events of Season 4, so the fact that their daughter is called Elizabeth is purely coincidental and in no way connects to Eurus.
Finally just want to say, I'll be referring to the Skyline Gang members by their character names through most of this story, as the performers generally remain in character even when off stage.
"Sherlock. Sherlock!" John growled, frustrated, marching into the living room once more.
He'd already left it twice. Once to take the cases down to the entrance hall of 221 Baker Street, and the second time with William and Elizabeth. That second time he'd expected Sherlock to be on his heels, but of course, as he should have known, the man was too distracted.
Rolling his eyes, John stormed over to the breakfast table where Sherlock hovered staring at his laptop with a familiar eager gleam in his gaze. He'd been at it since they'd risen that morning and John wasn't foolish enough not to know exactly what his partner was up to. You can't be with a man for almost a decade, consider him the best friend you've ever had, and have two children with him without learning when he's trying to avoid doing something. In this case, a family vacation.
It wasn't that Sherlock didn't want to spend time with him and the kids, it was that the idea of a week at a popular holiday camp, surrounded by 'normal' people paled in comparison to a nice juicy murder. The fact that Sherlock had been working no stop the past fortnight seemed irrelevant.
"Sherlock." John snapped loudly, angrily closing the laptop.
Sherlock lifted his gaze in surprise, eyes wide as if not comprehending why John was mad. As if John hadn't told him a dozen time to get a move on. "John, I'm afraid..."
"No." John warned, finger shaking in Sherlock's face as he tried to reign in his anger, something that despite their years together. It never got any easier. "We had an agreement Sherlock, after you backed out last year."
The previous year. John had been forced to go off on holiday alone after Sherlock ran off with Mycroft on another top secret case involving forged money and government document, thankfully Mary and her new boyfriend David had invited them away with them, but it hadn't been the same without Sherlock there. The kids had missed him terribly, especially Elisabeth. So he'd made Sherlock promise to join them the following year, on pair of divorce. - "But we're not married, John."
"You know what I mean Sherlock." had been his furious reply.
"But John, you do not understand. This case is..."
"Not as important as your children." John grunted out through gritted teeth. "Forget making me promise Sherlock, you swore to them." he pointed back to the stairs.
Sherlock headed for the door, lifting his coat off the hook.
"Sherlock, it's august. The weather is lovely out."
With long grey coat hanging from his arm, Sherlock turned to fix John with a petulant stare. "Did you not bother to check the weather for the week John? There is an 80% chance of rain on Tuesday and Wednesday."
John raised a brow at his partner. "That's as may be, but don't you think your coat is over doing it a little?"
Sherlock looked down at the thick grey weave, considering. "You may have a point."
John smirked, strolling casually over to Sherlock. Pausing in front of him. I pack that jacket Mary brought you for Christmas, that should be enough protection from the elements.
Sherlock didn't look too convinced, but nodded, hanging the coat back on the door. His hands falling away reluctantly.
John inhaled deeply at the torn look on Sherlock's face as his hand fell away. The coat was like a comfort blanket. Since the day he'd met Sherlock Holmes almost eight years ago, that coat had rarely been off his back. The only time it had John knew was once when Irene Adler used it to cover her naked body, then escaped with it still on. The second was when Sherlock had faked his own death and want on their run for two years to bring down Moriarty.
"If you really want to take it Sherlock, don't let me stop you." he brushed off.
"Boys, you're taxi is here!" Called Mrs Hudson from the lower floor.
"Come on." John smiled, tugging gentle at the sleeve of Sherlock's suit jacket, before leaving the room.
Mrs Hudson was wrangling in the pair in at the front door when he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Oi, calm down." he scolded.
William pouted at him in a very Sherlockian manner. While their little boy took after John in looks and personality, he certainly on occasion channelled Sherlock. "You give me that look again and you'll be staying her with your uncle Mycroft." John rolled his eyes and sighed inwardly. He really had to remember that while he and Sherlock were reluctant to spend time with the elder Holmes, William ordered Mycroft, Heavens knows why.
Shaking his head at the look of glee in William's gaze John stepped past him, lifting the cases and carrying them out to the waiting cab.
When he returned Sherlock was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, a child in each hand and his grey coat folded over Mrs Hudson's arms.
_August: When you're On The Beach You Steal The Show_
John probably should have known they wouldn't have a 'normal' family holiday, this was Sherlock Holmes after all. If the man isn't looking for trouble, trouble finds him. Deep down he'd had a hunch something was going to happen when their car pulled up to the Butlin's main gate and Sherlock hummed thoughtfully at the graffiti on the welcome sign. John had brushed it off, ignoring his Spidey sense. After all how could a few ridiculous stick figures ruin the family holiday?
As it turned out, with amazing ease. At least they got two reasonably 'normal' days out of the whole mess.
They didn't' do much that first day, two tired from travelling. After getting their room keys and camp information, they made themselves at home. Everything had a nautical theme, which made John smile watching Sherlock lounge on the purple sofa, glowering at the large stuffed octopus cushion as if it had personally offended him.
Elisabeth and William were in the small kids' bedroom arguing over the top bunk. A fight John knew William would ultimately win, if only because his sister always gave into him. Her selfless side of her character clearly came from Sherlock, and he was well aware it wouldn't last forever. Eventually the combination of intelligence and hormones would turn her into a nightmare, just like her father.
While the fight continued and Sherlock lounged on the couch, John unpacked, hanging shirts and dress trousers. Carrying the kids' smaller case into their room to hang up Elisabeth's dresses before they creased. He really wasn't in the mood to iron.
When that was finished he fell heavily into the double bed and closed his eyes.
"What did you make of that graffiti, John?"
John sighed, "This place needs better security, but what do you really expect in a family resort. I'd lay money on there being a fair few frustrated, grumpy teenagers unhappy to have been dragged here by chipper parents."
"Was that how it was for you, John? Where you reluctantly dragged here?"
There was amusement in Sherlock's voice, John could hear. Ever since he'd told Sherlock his reasons for wanting to come to Butlin's, rather than visit sunnier climes, the man had been teasing him mercilessly. Sherlock had little time for sentiment, or at least he pretended to. Truth was Sherlock was the most sentimental person john knew.
John heaved a sigh. "As a matter of fact," he grumbled, twisting his head to look along Sherlock long body. "I always enjoyed coming here, it was Harry that hated it."
Sherlock nodded knowingly. "I know, she has spent the past week posting disparaging remarks on the blog, and texting me, listing the countless reason why I'm going to hate it."
John rolled his eyes, looking back at the blank TV,
"She suggested that we might have more fun somewhere warmer, the Bahamas perhaps. Preferably without the children."
"Did she now?" John huffed, looking back to Sherlock with an inquisitive gleam in his eyes.
"She even went as far as to offer to take the children." Sherlock added with amusement.
"And you didn't take her up on the offer?" John grinned.
"Why on earth would I? You seemed so eager to take a stroll down memory lane, dragging us with you. - Besides, I checked the terms and conditions, there's no rule against copulation with one's significant other on the premises."
John could help but chuckling heartily when Sherlock gracefully leapt to his feet and saddled over to him. He was still grinning when Sherlock leant forward to capture John's mouth in a teasing kiss, while throwing his long leg up to straddle John's lap.
John held his partners hips and pressed up into the kiss, deepening it.
"Daddy, can we...awe, Dad!" Elizabeth whined from the end of the bed.
Sherlock leant back to sit his bony arse on John's legs and looked over his shoulder. "Yes Elizabeth?" ignoring their daughters scandalised expression.
John's hands were still on Sherlock's hip as he watched William amble in from the other room, an unimpressed and bored expression on his face.
Rolling her eyes Elizabeth finished her request. "Can we go explore now?" she looked between them eagerly.
Sherlock looked to his right, out the large floor to ceiling window. "It doesn't seem there is much to explore." he grumbled tiredly, unimpressed with his surroundings.
"Stop being a grumpy sod," John scolded, shoving at Sherlock's waist. "That's my job." he chuckled.
Sherlock laughed as he reluctantly climbed off John and stealthily adjusted himself. John didn't immediately follow, fully aware of two sets of observant young eyes on him. "We'll go walk around, toilet first." he ordered the pair, nodding his head towards the small bathroom.
With the kids out of the room, John leapt to his feet and sorted himself out, all under the hot watchful gaze of Sherlock.
"Perhaps we should have gone to the Bahamas." The detective grumbled, sighing warily.
John nodded and reached for Sherlock's arm, pulling him back in for another kiss. "If we tire them out they'll fall asleep early and we can finish what we started."
_August: When You're On The Beach You Still The Show_
It was nothing like John had remembered. Everything felt smaller. Sherlock, of course, pointed out that the size of the individual affected the way they see the world. That as a kid the world would naturally seem larger and more wondrous. Only it wasn't just that, not for John, there was an atmosphere to the place that seemed to be missing now. A sense of excitement and family that wasn't there anymore.
"You're just getting old, John." Sherlock informed him, as if he wasn't fully aware of that, Thank you.
"William and Elizabeth seem to be enjoying it." he gestured to the pair as they stood before an arcade game, tossing ping pong balls at colour changing sensors.
John smiled softly. He had to admit, he'd feared the kids wouldn't enjoy the place at all. He had thought that maybe their inner Homes-ness would dampen the childish excitement places like Butlin's were meant to invoke. It was a common fear in him, knowing Sherlock's lonely childhood and the way he sometimes lacked the ability or desire to enjoy the smaller things. His mind always working to drown out the boredom.
But those fears, as it had turned out, were completely unfounded. Thankfully William and Elizabeth had enough Watson in them to counteract any fun destroying Holmes genes.
He watched as the pair collected their long string of yellow tickets, hurriedly carrying them over to John and Sherlock, proud grins on their faces. William shoved his pile at Sherlock with a warning not to lose them or mix them up with his sisters, before scurrying off to a different game. Elizabeth was less aggressive, gently placing the pile in John's outstretched hand with a smile, before following her brother.
John stared after them for a long moment, his heart swelling with happiness. He absently folded the tickets into a bunch and slipped them into his jacket pocket.
"Come along John," Sherlock insisted, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him over to a game. "Shame Mycroft isn't here, he'd love this." Sherlock remarked wickedly. "Perhaps I should send him a picture."
John rolled his eyes as Sherlock tugged out his phone and took a quick snap of the row of small clown faces, all lined up waiting to have balls thrown at them. John knew it was wrong to find amazement in another person's phobia but well it was Mycroft and it wasn't as if the man actually acknowledged he had a phobia at all. "Phobias are for the weak minded John." he'd once said, when Sherlock had surprised him with a stuffed clown for Christmas. It had been all John could do not to laugh as Mycroft continued held the figure aware from him, his features blank. - Almost.
Mrs Holmes, hadn't been so impressed, scolding Sherlock for tormenting his brother and taking the toy away. It had found its way into Mycroft's bed that night.
_August: When You're On The Beach You Still The Show_
All hopes of ignoring the graffiti and having some semblance of a normal holiday went out of the window only 24 hours after arriving. They were sat in the large tented pavilion that made up the center of the camp, the noise almost deafening, between the screams of excited children and the ringing of the arcade. They'd spent the morning out at Bullseye Bay, enjoying a round of archery in the sunshine before Sherlock dragged them off to The Studio so Elizabeth could show off her fencing technique. John hadn't even realised Sherlock had been teaching their 5 year old daughter fencing. It had resulted in a hushed argument in the corner while Elizabeth impressed the instructors, and lead to John giving Sherlock the cold shoulder for the past hour.
Which is how they'd wound up sat in the Pavilion, surrounded by screaming children and loud talking parents. John moping over his cup of tea, while Sherlock fiddled with his phone. Elizabeth and William vanished down towards the main stage where Elizabeth stood talking with a Red Coat, while William was chatting animatedly with a couple of other boys.
"I don't know why you're so angry, John. I had my first lesson at 4, and because of which I'm a skilled fencer. - She was perfectly safe. It is not as if I've let her run around the house with a sharpened sword, John."
John gritted his teeth and glowered over at Sherlock. "That is not the point, Sherlock. That you didn't tell me is what's pissed me off."
Sherlock glanced up briefly from his phone, considering. Then he sighed, dropping his gaze once more. "You're right, I apologise John."
"How is it possible for you to apologise and yet make it sound like I'm the one in the wrong?" John grumbled, slouching into his chair with his arms crossed.
Sherlock smirked, which only manage to stoke John's ire. John rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
They fell into a comfortable silence for a while, John watching the children while Sherlock tapped away on his phone. Finally, as often happened, John curiosity got the better of him. "What are you doing anyway? Don't tell me you're working a case?"
Sherlock hummed for a moment before looking up, his lip curling. "Simply distracting myself from the tedium of this..." he looked around, bored."...place."
"Sherlock." John sighed. "At least try to..."
He was cut off by a sudden burst of excitement from the area by the stage as a group of brightly dressed performers entered, vanishing behind. All the children hurried to find a place behind the roped barrier John hadn't even noticed being erected. Frowning he fished out the schedule from his back jean pocket and checked his watch. "Skyline Gag in Carnival Crazy." he announced.
Sherlock looked at him with an unimpressed expression, gaze flickering between the stage, the children and over his shoulder at the exit.
"No, if I have to sit through this for the sake of our children, so do you." John warned, eyes narrow and warning.
Sherlock exhaled a long sigh, glowering at the stage as the announcer introduced the act and all the children cheered, taking their seats on the hard wooden floor.
"Hi!" the group called, emerging from the curtains with a cheer.
John raised a brow, shooting an amused look at Sherlock's indignity face.
"Hey, we're the Skyline Gang, and we're here to have some fun. Hey, we're the Skyline Gang, so come on, join in everyone."
"John..." Sherlock growled over the loud music.
John laughed.
"If you want to dance."
"Or you want to sing."
"If you want to laugh."
"We do everything."
"So hey, we're the Skyline Gang, and we're here to have some fun!"
Sherlock groaned, slouching low in his seat and reaching for the collar of his coat, only to remember he wasn't wearing it. Which lead to John receiving another death glare.
A young man dressed in blue overalls stepped up to the front of the stage, "Hey my name is dude, and I'm always in the mood to play a game of basketball." He sang excitedly.
"Never touched a basketball in his life." Sherlock grumbled.
"Hey my name is Sprout..." introduced a man dressed in green with a spikey hat, his voice high pitched and a little grating. "...and there really is no doubt I like to laugh and play the fool."
Sherlock frowned up at the entertainer. "Hate his job, is only here to pay of his university debts."
John chuckled as an attractive woman in a bright yellow wig stepped forward.
"Hi my name is Mimi, and I know you'd like to be me, because I'm fabulous in every way."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Divorced, currently suffering from depression."
"Sherlock, we don't need a running commentary on these people." John scolded.
"If I have to sit here and watch this John, then I deserve to make my own entertainment."
John rolled his eyes again, sending an apologetic smile to the woman on the next table who was glaring at Sherlock.
"Hey my name is Pip and I'm a rock chick, and I'm really gonna rock today."
Sherlock stared at the purple clad woman, his eyes narrowed. He leant forward slight. "Hmmm."
"Oh for goodness sake, what now?"
Sherlock smiled slightly and settled back against the bright green plastic chair. "Interesting."
John turned sharply to stare at Sherlock, brow pinched. "Sherlock?"
"Hey, we're the Skyline Gang, and we're here to have some fun. Hey, we're the Skyline Gang, so come on join in everyone one."
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John demanded as Sherlock tugged out his phone and began recording the show.
"If you want to dance."
"Or you want to sing."
"If you want to laugh."
"We do everything."
"Hey, we're the Skyline Gang, and we're here to have some fun."
John craned his neck to see what Sherlock was recording. "You know you're not meant to be recording this, there was a sigh on the screen before the show."
"And yet..." he looked pointedly at the dozen or so people around them holding up their phones and cameras. John sighed.
"What's so interesting about...?"
"Hey, my name is Candi, and wouldn't it be dandy, if everything in the world was pink."
"Lord forbid." Sherlock grumbled. "I'm sure she'd agree, considering she's a goth." he chuckled, camera still focused on the Purple clad woman.
"I'm Bud, and I wear Red. I know it all from A to Z, and I'm even smarter than I think."
Sherlock burst into laughed, his camera jolting. "Phff." he scoffed, eyes travelling up and down the young man. "Please, he didn't' even pass his GCSEs."
John dropped his head into his hand as a woman shot them a low growl, but he couldn't help but chuckle. "Sherlock, you might want to stop now, before we're chased from her by furious parents."
Sherlock glanced around at the frustrated parents, sighing warily. Shrugging, he pressed his lips together as the last member of the group stepped up to the state, dressed in grey.
"Being naughty's really fun, playing tricks on everyone, I'm Misty the mischief, you'll see."
Sherlock looked unimpressed.
"And finally say hello, you our lovely dog Rainbow, he's even more fabulous than Me." introduced Mimi, as a giant orange dog stubble out from backstage.
"Hey, we're the Skyline Gang, and we're here to have some fun. Hey, we're the Skyline Gang, so come on join in everyone one." the group sang once again in unison, dancing in perfect sync.
"If you want to dance." Bud repeated for the third time.
"Or you want to sing." Pip sang into an invisible microphone yet again.
"If you want to laugh." Sprout leapt into the air with a huge grin.
"We do everything." Candi added with a wave of her arm.
"Hey, we're the Skyline Gang, and we're here to have some fun. - We're the Skyline Gang and we're to have some fun." they finished, with a flourish.
"Thank heavens that's over." Sherlock sighed.
"That's just the beginning, this show's on for half an hour."
Sherlock groaned, but kept his camera trained of the stage.
Remained like that throughout the whole show, following Pip around the stage, occasionally zooming in on a couple of the other members. Frankly if John hadn't known better, he might have wondered if Sherlock had a thing for the young woman. He had that same look on his face as he'd had when they'd first met Irene Adler, which as it had then, sparked a rather large flame of jealousy inside him.
He tore his attention away from the Sherlock's fascination with Pip, to check on Elizabeth and William, who were sat on the floor watching the show. With their back to him, it was hard for John to tell is they were enjoying it or not. Though the way William was slouched forward, leaning on his hand, hinted that he wasn't has enraptured as the rest of the young audience.
John couldn't help but laugh when he saw William drop his head into his hand, shaking it, as Misty took on the disgust of the fortune teller to the complete obliviousness of her friends. He watched his son lean into his sister and whisper something. Elizabeth nodded, then the pair turned their heads to look back at himself and Sherlock, they rolled their eyes dramatically and John lost it.
"Guys, look," Bud announced, turning to his friends. "A flashing sign for the arcade."
"Tonight's star prize," said the announcer, the large screen lighting up with stars. "Take home a Teddy Bear. Its cuddly, it's lovable, and it's all yours."
Oh, a Teddy Bear, I want to win one of those." Shrieked Candi excitedly.
"All you need to win this amazing prize is a minimum of..."
The announcer instantly when silent when an image of dancing stick figures appeared on the screen. Sherlock instantly leant forward, his camera zooming in on the screen. John frowned, his instinct telling him it wasn't just a coincidence. He looked at Sherlock who had a familiar eager and excited look on his face. Shit. He thought, "This is a case isn't it?" he asked, leaning closer to Sherlock, who didn't both to answer, just moved his camera across the stage, capturing the reaction of each member of the gang. "Blast it."
Only a few seconds later the screen went blank, then lit up again with the actually image of the number 10,000, and the show went on. However even John could tell that the group of performers were distracted and under a sudden blanket of tension.
_August: When You're On The Beach You Still The Show_
Sherlock was distracted all through dinner, barely touching the burger he'd ordered from the 50s themed diner. He was too busy re-watching the video on his phone, over and again. Elizabeth and William ate, though their eyes were on Sherlock the whole time.
John sighed, stuffing chips into his mouth, resigned to the inevitable. "Okay, so what is it?"
"Obviously it's a message." Sherlock said after a few moments. "I'll need more data to decipher it. I'll have to pay a visit to the maintenance office and security too. This isn't simply as case of graffiti." he grinned, like a child on Christmas Eve.
"You think it was meant for a member of the Skyline Gang."
Sherlock looked up through his lashes. "Obviously."
"Do you know who?"
"Pip." Elizabeth and William announced in unison.
John frowned at the pair.
"What makes you think that?" Sherlock asked, leaning forward, elbows on the table as he looked at the pair with interest.
Elizabeth straightened. "Pip's reaction. She looked scared, taking a step back and looking towards the stage exit."
William shrugged. "And then she stepped up to Candi, who took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Kind of how Anthea does when Uncle Mycroft is upset."
John looked across as Sherlock who grinned proudly. "So Pip and Candi are...? Wait, what?" John's head snapped around to William. "Anthea and My..."
"Keep you John." Sherlock rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the phone screen. "Whatever this is..." he nodded at the image of the dancing stick figures, "it has them both unnerved."
John was too shell shocked over the revelation of Anthea and Mycroft to take in anything Sherlock was saying. Anthea? Mycroft? It seemed incredible. Impossible. He'd kind of assumed that Mycroft was...well, uninterested in that. - Of course, he'd thought the same about Sherlock once, hadn't he? And look at them now. "Huh." he huffed, going back to his meal with a wide smile.
_August: When You're On The Beach You Still The Show_
A loud bang startled John awake. Sitting up, he blinked at the empty space beside him. "Sherlock?"
"Go back to sleep John."
Frowning he looked over to where Sherlock was drawing on the windows. "Sherlock, what are you doing?" he scolded.
"I almost have it. - Ha!"
"Have what?" he reached over to switch on the light, squinting at the sudden burst of intense light.
"We need to talk. I have..."
"About what?"
"That's the message, John." Sherlock grumbled.
Throwing back the covers John padded over to the window, staring at the message Sherlock has reconstructed. "Why leave such a cryptic message? Why not just call or text?"
"Intimidation tactic. Our mystery tagger clearly wants to frighten the young lady."
John folded his arms over his naked chest, humming. "Come back to bed." John muttered, tugging at Sherlock's bare arm. "You can't do anything until the suns up."
Sherlock looked down at him, challenging.
"Okay, I'm not letting you do anything until the suns up. If you expect her cooperation and answers, Sherlock, waking her at 2am when she's probably only been in bed an hour is not the way to go about it."
Sherlock didn't look happy, but he set down his marker on the small coffee table and allowed John to guide him back to the bed.
_August: When You're On The Beach You Still The Show_
"You're American. Chicago?"
Pip nodded reluctantly, fidgeting anxiously with her glove, her eyes flickering to the two children in sat silently watching her from the neighbouring bed. "Yeah, been in England for almost five years now."
"Who is sending the messages?" John asked softly from his place by the children, his arms folded over his chest.
Pip looked at him cautiously, and John could see her silently weighing up her options. She chewed on her lower lip, anxiously dropping her gaze to her lap. "I... - I don't see why it's any concern of yours." she snapped defensively.
"Father likes mysteries." William announced. "You're a mystery."
"William, shhh." Elizabeth elbowed him angrily in the ribs.
Sherlock smirked. "You are being threatened, I would think you'd want my help."
John looked over at Sherlock, smiling softly. It amazed him that once upon a time he'd genuinely believed that Sherlock didn't care. That he'd only wanted the thrill of the chase. What a fool he'd been, how blind. Sherlock cared too much, at times that was his greatest weakness.
Before Pip could say another word the door to the small cabin flew open. All their heads spun around, eyes widening when Candi rushed in, face pale. She was physically shaking from head to toe. Pip got up instantly, rushing over to her. "Candi?"
"Where is it?" Sherlock said, straightening from his position between the two beds.
"Where's what?" John frowned.
Sherlock shot him an impatient look, head tilting slightly. He let out a long sigh. "The body, John." he rolled his eyes.
Before Candi or John could reply, Sprout busted in behind the pink haired young woman. "Oh my god, did she tell you? Did she?"
Pip frowned, instantly alert.
"Management are going crazy." Spout announced excitedly.
John inhales slowly, dropping his arms and looking concerned. "What exactly have they...?"
"A dead body." Sherlock announced pushing past the brightly coloured pair, and out into the rain.
John didn't wait, grabbing the children's hands and rushing out after Sherlock. "One holiday? Was it too much to ask." He grumbled frustratingly, under his breath.
They rushed passed the staff cabins, then through the Adventure Golf and Kid's play area until they finally reached the circus tent. It was closed off to the public, with a couple of security men stood outside looking anxious and whispering among themselves. Sherlock, not one to care for closed off areas, barged right past them before any of the security could react.
"Hey!" the security yelled, reaching for Sherlock.
"Stop!" John yelled. "This is Sherlock Holmes."
The two men frowned, looking between them. "Oh my god, it is too." the tall dark skin man gapped. He stepped back, tugging on his colleagues arm. "Police are on their way." he informed Sherlock. "Mr Hamilton is inside, with Mrs Quinn from human resources, and the...body."
Sherlock inclined his head, then hurried into the tent. John moved to follow only to draw short when he realised William and Elizabeth were still holding onto his hands. "Would you mind?" he asked the two security men.
The tall man, Richard according to his name badge, nodded. "Of course, Doctor Watson, they'll be safe with us."
John nodded, looking down at the children with a silent warning look. Behave it ordered. Behave and don't you dare try to sneak a peek. It was a warning he'd been forced to give the last year, when Elizabeth, eager to see her father at work and slipped away from the police officer guiding them, and follow him and Sherlock into a murder scene. She'd had nightmares for a week.
With the pair in the safe custody of camp security, John hurried through the flaps of the large tent. It was dark inside, unsurprisingly, but for the spot light shining down on a large red figure. A very large red figure. Sherlock was walking around it, eyes intensely working. John hurried closer, conscious of the irratate and concerned looks of the staff members.
When he reached Sherlock's side, he stared wide eyed down at the body. "Po? Someone killed a Teletubby?"
"A what?" Sherlock frowned over at him.
John rolled his eyes. "You have two children, Sherlock, how do you not know what a Teletubby is?"
Sherlock stared at him. "I have more important things to remember than ridiculous children's characters."
John shook his head and crouched down next to the body.
"You can't touch, the police..." an older man said, hurrying forward.
"I'm a doctor." John identified. "Doctor John Watson." with that clarified, he leant forward, eyes scanning the body. "Looks like he might have been choked." John informed. "There's reddening around the next. A...rope maybe." he looked up at Sherlock, expecting clarification.
Sherlock gave him a sharp nod, then turned to walk the perimeter, head bowed as he searched for clues and data.
"Do you think this has anything to do with the graffiti?"
Sherlock didn't answer, too engrossed in his search. John sighed, straightening. He stepped back from the body, so as not to contaminate the scene further. After all, eventually there would be a court case.
Movement behind him had John turning, back straightening as two uniformed police officers strolled in, and followed by two plain clothed men. John knew what was coming even before the caught sight of Sherlock. It was rare that Sherlock got a welcome from police forces outside London, hell most of Scotland Yard hated Sherlock getting involved one a case, or it really wasn't a surprise when the lead investigator barrelled directly towards Sherlock and stated loudly that he wasn't welcome.
Sherlock reacted as he always did when forced off a case that intrigued it, with insults and belittlement. He stormed out of the tent with a flurry, and John smiled somewhat regretfully, it didn't have the same effect when he wasn't wearing his coat. With an awkward, if angry, not at the management team, he hurriedly followed after his partner.
William and Elizabeth were still outside with the security guard. "Thank you." he said with a genuine smile. "Uh..." he looked around, frowning. "Where'd he go?"
Four sets of hands pointed to the far side of the tent and John rolled his eyes. There would be no getting away from this case that was for sure. John hoped he solved it quickly, so they could get back to their holiday.
_August: When You're On The Beach You Still The Show_
The next two days were spent with Sherlock lumbering around behind them with his nose practically plastered to his phone. The only time he looked up was when the Skyline Gang either wandered through the camp greeting the children, or they were performing on the Pavilion stage. While it grated on John nerve, he knew there would be no point trying to get Sherlock to forget about the case.
The death of a Teletubby hadn't seemed to have reached the visiting population of the camp, though John had heard a whispered conversation between two parents as they'd cued for the photo opportunity. Of course, that had only been an excuse for Sherlock to interrogate the remaining members of the group. Which as one might expect had led to teary children, angry parents and frustrated staff.
John tried to carry on despite it all, desperate to make sure the children had a good time, despite everything that was going on around them. It seemed to be working. In the past two days they'd returned to football coaching, beating magic workshop and crazy golf. They'd spent hours in the arcade and bowling. However, it was obvious to him that the pair were missing Sherlock's attention, and that cut deeply.
"Sherlock, we're only here for another three days," John reminded him that evening after the children had gone to bed. Sherlock was sat on the couch fiddling with papers and email while John looked out over the darkened camp. Watching people making their way back from the late show at the Hotshots club. "You've barely spent any time with Will and Beth, and they've notice." he looked over his shoulder at his partner, who glanced up briefly from his work.
"I've come bowling with you yesterday." he pointed out.
"And how many times did we have to nudge you into actually playing?" John sighed warily. "This is exactly what I was afraid of Sherlock. Sometimes you have to just...let cases go."
"A man is dead John and a young woman is being taunted."
John groaned. "I know." he dragged his hand through his hair. "But you're not even being paid for this, Sherlock. The police don't want your help with the murder." he shook his head. "Maybe just let..."
Sherlock shot to his feet. "You've changed your tune John. I thought you wanted me to be more sympathetic, more caring. I'm helping a woman in need, isn't that what heroes do?"
"I thought you said you weren't a hero?" John snapped.
Sherlock huffed. "I'm not, but..." he bit his tongue, turning away from John and marching angrily into the bathroom.
John frowned, following after him. "Sherlock?"
There was no reply. John sighed, heading back into the living area, dropping heavily down onto the sofa, his head in his hands. He probably should have seen it before, all the extra work Sherlock had been taking on. The way Sherlock had been discussing his work and his deduction at the dinner table, or when he was tucking the children into bed, as if they were bedtime stories. God he'd been an idiot.
The click of the door had John looking up, watching with tired regretful eyes as Sherlock headed back into the room. He looked just as tired as John, just as worn down.
"Sherlock." John breathed, getting up. "You don't have anything to prove, you know that." he padded over to his partner. "You're not their hero because you solve crime or safe people, you're their hero because you're their dad." John smiled softly, reaching up for Sherlock's cheek.
Sherlock stiffened a second before relaxing into John's touch. "I never want them to see me as..."
"They won't. They couldn't." he pushed himself up on tip toe to brush his lips against Sherlock's. "They adore you, we all do, which is probably why they haven't complained once about you working this case, but they're always so much happier Sherlock, when your attention is focused on them and not on..." he waved at the table. "Three days, just leave it for three days. Focus on us for three days and when we get back to London, you can have Mycroft and Lestrade bully you onto the case. What do you say?"
Sherlock response back in the form of a kiss. His arm sliding around John waist and pulling him up against him as he plundered his mouth. When he let go, John was breathless and aroused. With a satisfied grin, John hurriedly undressed his partner, manhandling him onto the bed.
_August: When You're On The Beach You Still The Show_
Sherlock reluctantly and with great effort managed to put the case on the backburner for a how 32 hours. In which times he and the children and won an archery competition and managed to accumulate at least five thousand tickets, which granted wasn't that hard to do when machines were dishing them out for even the smallest win. Elizabeth had gained three stuffed toys from the crane machines, thanks mostly to John, and William had gained a large stuffed Thor thanks to Sherlock. As John looked at the pile of cuddles, not to mention the gifts they'd brought for family and friends, he wished they'd rented a car.
"Don't worry John." Sherlock said as he lazed on the bed after a hectic morning. "I already made arrangement with Mycroft, he's sending a car to collect us."
"Oh thank god." John had sighed, making himself comfortable on the sofa.
It wasn't until their day before they were due to leave that the case reared its ugly head. Sherlock had always had revelations in the strangest of circumstances. The spark of genius hitting him out of the blue. In this case, while speeding down a waterslide with William in his lap. He'd barely hit the water before he was leaping out of the pool and racing towards the exit. John frown with concern as he hurriedly claimed out of the water, wrapped the towels around the children and himself, before chasing after him.
The sea of shocked faces and loud whistles hold John exactly in which direction Sherlock was going, and he hurried to catch up, skirting around people and trying not to slip as he and the children left a trail of water behind them. He'd barely made it out of the swimming pool when he was accosted by camp security, demanding to know what was wrong. Luckily Richard was stepping out of the Ocean Drive Restaurant.
"Doctor Watson?" he frowned, concerned eyes scanning over him and the children.
"Richard, its Richard, right? Yes. Could you keep an eye on these two again, Sherlock's rushed off, best guess is he's solved the case, would you might."
"We want to come!" Yelled Elizabeth and William, stubbornly glowering at him.
John looked at the pair then in the direction Sherlock had run. If he didn't move now, he'd lose him and god only knew what kind of trouble he was in. Dammit. He hesitated torn, he'd be quicker alone, but the looks on his children's faces... "Dammit." he growled. "Stay here."
Then he was off, losing his towel as he skimmed the corner shop and out towards the funfair. He ignored the catcalls and wolf whistles, not to mention the rather angry yelling of horrified parents. He'd be having to make a public apology by the end of the day, but that was for later.
His feet slapped against the gravel paving but he'd learnt long ago how to push pain to the back of his mind. The caught sight of Sherlock finally as he rounded the Atlantic Reception area.
"Sherlock!" he yelled, but wasn't all that surprised when his partner didn't stop. He kept up his pace, following the taller man out across the car park and onto the beach.
In the distance he could hear the familiar beats of the Skyline Gang's opening song, and caught sight of the bright colours. There was a fuss as Sherlock pushed his way through the gathering of parents.
"Stop!" he yelled at the stage.
Before John could get to him, a large burly man grabbed him, dragging him away from the group of surprised and intrigued child. John could just imagine what they were thinking and frankly he didn't blame them. If some half naked man had gone running through a group where Elizabeth and William were, he'd probably be the one tackling the weirdo to the ground and laying him out.
That said, this was Sherlock, and if he was running half naked through a holiday camp and into a group of children, it meant there was an immediate threat. So John did what any good side kick did, he leapt on the burly guy's back and wrapped his arm around his throat until he let go of Sherlock.
Without the large man pinning him down, Sherlock struggled to his feet and made a dash for the stage. "You!" he yelled, pointing at the Bud. Sherlock exhaled breathlessly and leapt up onto the makeshift stage, eyes the faux pirate ship before turning to regard Bud. "You're really not as smart as you think." he muttered.
Stepping forward, Sherlock reached up to grab hold of Bud's wig, ripping it from his head. A loud gasp erupted from the audience, and John saw a couple of children rushing to their parents in tear. Yep, deficiently going to need a public apology.
"Abe Slaney." Sherlock announced.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
"Abe Slaney of Chicago, Illinois."
Pip gasped, stepping up to Sherlock's side.
"Right hand man to one Antony de Marco, head of one of Chicago's most dangerous criminal gangs, and father to Elise De Marco." he looked over at Pip, who bleached.
"Who the hell are you?" Bud, correction Abe Slaney demanded.
"I am Sherlock Holmes."
There was another audible gasp from the audience and John felt the man beneath him relax, so withdraw his arm and straightened.
"You came here to locate and return Elise to her family, but any means necessary." Sherlock informed him. "Even murder."
"Murder?" Pip gasped.
"The body found in the tent, the Teletubby."
"Why?" asked Candi, stepping up beside Pip and taking her hand.
"Mr Slaney was under the mistaken impression that the young man, Hilton Cubitt, was the reason you," he looked at Pip. "We're refusing to return to America."
"Hilton?" Candi frowned, looking from Sherlock to Pip.
"The truth was, he was your dealer."
"Dealer?" Dude inhaled surprise.
"It's not what you think?" Pip quickly insisted.
"No, it's not." Sherlock dismissed with a wave of his hand, turning his gaze on the brunette. "MS?"
Reluctantly she nodded, avoiding the gaze of her friends.
"And the cannabis is to help with the pain, tremors and stiffness, which could all impact on your chosen career."
Pip's shoulders slumped. "Yes."
Sherlock smiled regretfully at the young woman before turning back to Abe. "So you see, killing Hilton has gained you nothing. - Nothing but a prison sentence."
Abe narrowed his gaze at the detective. "I see no police." he challenged dangerously.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "What are you going to do, run?" he sighed warily. "And go where. Camp security has been informed, you'll never make it off the site. There are at least two dozen parents with the phones trained on you," he waved at the audience. "It'll be all over the internet before you've gotten as far as the camp exit. - And even if you do get away and manage to get back to America, I doubt Mr de Marco will be particually happy with your terrifying the daughter he set you hear to retrieve, and drawing undue attention to him and his origination."
Abe pale. He looked from Sherlock to Pip, his seemingly innocent face contorting into one of fury. John watched from the pebbles as Bud drove for the purple clad woman, but was luckily restrained from reaching her when Dude and Misty grabbed each arm and dragged him away, the remaining member stepping protectively in front of Pip.
John moved forward to help retrain the man, only for a blur of black to go flying past him. He blinked then looked down as he felt a hand tugging at his. His eyes widened at the sight of William, Elizabeth beside him, her focus on the stage.
Crouching down, John scooped up the shivering five year old, holding him close to his chest. Turning back to the stage, he saw Abe being dragged off the stage.
"You can't arrest me, you have no right." Abe spat.
"No, but we have the right to detain you until the police arrive." Richard informed the man.
As if on cue, there was the distant scream of sirens. John exhaled a sigh of relief as Sherlock turned to talk quietly to Pip and Candi, before leaping off the stage and making his way over to them. He looked from John to the children. "Sorry." he muttered.
John smiled. "It's fine."
"Is he going to prison now?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes following Abe and the security.
"Soon." Sherlock nodded, smiling brightly at the little girl. He bent down and scooped her up into his arms. "Let's get back to the hotel and warm you three up."
John nodded. "Then you can tell me all the details. This will need to be written up for the website, along with a disclaimer apologising for your appearance." he looked Sherlock up and down, quickly averting his eyes when he felt his flesh begin to warm.
Sherlock looked at him, scolding. "We're on holiday John. Work can wait."
John glowered, then rolled his eyes as they made their way back to the hotel room.
A/N: Hope this wasn't too bad. Feedback would be appreciated thank you.
If you want a visual of the Skyline Gang you can find a link video of them on my Tumblr: fanfictionbygatergirl79 - You can also keep updated on my works.