Hey all! To be honest I don't really know where this story is going, but I just decided to write this after watching the Sherlock episode last night. So tell me what you think, and if there are plenty of reviews, then I might consider continuing this story! And with a disclaimer, enjoy.
Family Matters
Chapter 1 – The one where Sherlock is lost for words
"Do you want to be the godfather?" John asked the confused man before him. And this man was none other than the world's only consultant detective, Sherlock Holmes, his best friend, his best man, and now hopefully, the godfather of his new born son.
Sherlock looked at him… well he frowned at him… try scowl at him… actually it was as though the man had completely blanked. Sherlock may be extremely clever, in fact the cleverest man John had ever known, in fact that world have ever known, but sometimes, every once in a while, the man could be a bit dim.
Oh. John smiled nervously as Sherlock opened his mouth. Was he going to agree? Did he actually…no…John sighed as the man closed his mouth again. Seriously if Sherlock was trying to look stupid he was doing a marvellous job.
"Are… you okay?" John asked slowly, the shorter man crossed his arms nervously, as though hugging his chest in hope that his friend would understand.
"You…but I… I'm not even a Christian. Are you even a Christian? How does that even work if you're not even a…"
"Sherlock!" John's shout stopped the detective's rant and a cloud of silence loomed over the pair. John took a deep breath and pointed a finger at his friend's face. Sherlock's eyes widened in amusement for a second, but then the man gave the doctor a quizzical look.
"You're getting defensive, interesting."
John growled impatiently. "Look, Sherlock, Mary is Christian and she…I… would like you, yes you not Greg or anyone else, to be the godfather of my kid."
Sherlock's mouth formed the shape of a great 'o', as though the man was trying to swallow an invisible orange. John, slowly, awkwardly patted his friend's arm as Sherlock began to sway slightly, like a drunken sailor on the tide. John slowly led Sherlock towards one of the chairs in the hospital waiting room, in which, yes, they had just had that little scene in the hospital. Only a handful of people had had the pleasure of watching the pair.
Sherlock, meanwhile, felt as though the emotional side was taking over the logical side of his brain. It felt like he was crashing, his senses were whirring in his mind like a broken radio, his thoughts scattered like dust. No. He thought viciously. Oh damn he really wanted a smoke. When did he ever decide to stop? The relief of the nicotine running through his veins was his only method of relaxation, besides going on a case. The stuff boring people did drove him insane. I mean, he thought desperately, who would watch movies just to relax? All the plots were the same and he always knew what was going to happen, so what was the point!
"Sherlock…" John's voice was hazy, as though his mind was coated with fog. His friend's words were still playing in his mind. Those two… Mary and John Watson… he mattered so much to them that they would give him the responsibility of being a godfather!
John suddenly jumped as Sherlock suddenly started fumbling through his pockets. With trembling fingers he desperately fingered the edges of his outside pockets… smokes. He thought desperate. He needed a smoke. Damn it Mrs Hudson why did he even consider…
Okay. He thought desperately, rubbing his forefingers furiously against his temples. Ignoring John's presence the detective shifted through his thoughts. He may not have his cigarettes, but the man did have a handful of people in this room whose lives he could read in a moment. He took a few calming breaths before the gears of logic began to churn.
His first subject. Male. Mid-forties. Office worker, obvious due to the marks on his wrists from leaning on the keyboard. Has three dogs, one of which had recently bit him on his thumb. Wife, obvious, ring, but it is an unhappy relationship as he takes it off regularly due to its prime condition. Overweight, again obvious anyone can see that. Broken shaver, the shaving pattern on his chin is irregular. He has kids, obvious from the Disney pencil protruding out of his pocket… unless he is having a mid-life crisis… Actually. Maybe he is.
Okay, number two. Woman sitting closest to the reception desk. She is constantly fidgeting, constantly wiping her glasses with her handkerchief, always sneezes using her handkerchief. OCD. Yes, obvious.
"Sherlock!" John's shout startled the woman he had been evaluating… she was now walking away.
"Great, thanks John…"
"You mean it?" John's anger had suddenly evaporated. Sherlock blinked rapidly, as though trying to deduce what he had just… oh.
"Um…" Sherlock sighed as he stood up, facing his friend and zoning in on the actual conversation for the first time. He had been the person who had first found out about Mary's pregnancy. And now…
"Mister Watson." A woman's voice called from the corridor just adjacent to the waiting room. John held his breath as the nurse walked up towards the pair. She was short, dark skinned, limited make-up…oh…Sherlock smirked, interesting, the woman was in a long term relationship. About to get married.
"They are waiting to see you." The nurse smiled broadly as she delivered the news. Sherlock hummed quietly to himself, of course, the woman obviously wants kids too. Why else would she be working in a maternity ward?
John, meanwhile, was struggling to hold in his tears. Sherlock, even though many may not consider him human, felt a small warmth surge within his chest. He was a godfather. He had already made up his mind the minute that John had asked him. He was just baffled. Sherlock Holmes. Baffled you say? Sentiment is the only thing that ever confuses him… but with John and Mary, he is only ever nervous, never confused. They were the two people who meant more than anything to him. He would give his lives for them. He would never admit it out loud, he shuddered, oh no. But he loved them. And he was going to see the product of their love, in just a few seconds.
"Sherlock." John had allowed a small tear escape. "Are you coming to meet your godson?" John and the nurse had already walked a few feet from the consultant detective.
Sherlock quickly hid his face from his friend as he felt a blush crept up his cheeks. For once, the great detective did not reply. For once in his life, he found that he was too stunned to reply. For once in his life, Sherlock Holmes was lost for words.
The man was about to follow them down the corridor, when a dark shadow hovered in the corner of his vision. The detective whirled round, scanning the almost vacant waiting room with eyes as narrow as slits. For a second, or was it simply his imagination? But for a second he could have sworn he had seen the outline of a man in the doorway. And if he was correct, which he always was, did this man have anything to do with him? Or more importantly John and Mary? Because if anyone ever threatened the happy couple… the happy family… a growl rumbled in Sherlock's throat… they would have to go through him first.
So what do you guys think? Please review and I'll post another update quicker!
Love Nightwing147