Sherlock was bored. This was completely natural being that he was bored almost every day. In fact, his life was just one boring day with little happy hours of satisfaction and distraction. But, right now, he didn't have a murder or a kidnapping to loose himself in. No. Today, it was up to him to entertain himself.
On most days, Sherlock could usually occupy himself by scowling at humanity and naming all of the downsides of being an Extrovert. That, or deducing the lives of random passerby. So, he decided to go to the park and enjoy the nice weather.
The detective took a seat on one of the empty benches and began.
"She has three kids, triplets, and is cheating on her husband." he muttered good-naturedly as a stressed woman shuffled past.
"And he is gay, but is dating a girl he knows from college because his friends said she was into him. He felt pressured to ask her out." Sherlock paused at his statement. "Hmph. Another issue with humanity, it seems. Peer pressure"
After a little while, a man, only one year younger than he (Sherlock figured this out of course), strolled leisurely by, his hands in his pockets. He was humming a song Sherlock recognized and smiled at the boffin as he passed, his brown eyes happy and alive.
"And he has an older brother who loves him very much. One feels indebted to for helping him out for so long." Sherlock smiled. "Touche." he snorted at no one, thinking of Mycroft.
Eventually, he decided to observe how youths got along with each other, as he noticed a group of them tumbling around, chasing one another and throwing balls around. He sat quietly and watched for a while, chuckling softly every now and then.
Suddenly, he felt a heavy weight in his lap. Looking down, he found that a black and white ball had landed there and two boys, one about eight the other six, came running over to him.
"We're so sorry!" the eight year old exclaimed, a scared look on his face.
"That's alright." Sherlock frowned, handing the ball to him. "Run along.".
The older child thanked him and began jogging back to where he had been playing, but the little one stayed behind, his big green eyes glittering.
"Thank you, mister. I'm really sorry. I was the one who kicked it. I'm training to be a football player, but I guess I need more practice.", he mumbled sheepishly.
Sherlock gazed amusedly at him. "Keep it up, and you might become a professional, someday.".
The boy grinned widely at the boffin, the gap in his teeth showing prominently. "You really think so?".
Sherlock shrugged. "With proper training, sure.".
"Blue!" the eight year old called.
"Coming, Tony!" Blue yelled back. "Bye." Blue smiled over his shoulder. He began running to meet his brother then abruptly stopped, turned around, and encased Sherlock in the bear hug of the century, before running off again.
The detective decided that it was about time to go home, so after watching Blue and Tony play for a little while longer, stood and began walking away.
Blue, noticing his sudden departure, waved enthusiastically at Sherlock, who waved back, smiling thoughtfully. He couldn't disappoint the boy by ignoring him.
On his way back to his flat he felt a tinge of confusion when he remembered the little boy's name. Blue. A nice name, sure, but why Blue when his eyes were so, obviously, green?
Shrugging it off, the detective went about his day trying to think of other things, but , for some strange reason, the small, cheerful child stuck to the front of his mind. Frustrated and a little annoyed, he tried to delete the moment from his Mind Palace to see if that would help.
The first try led to failure, as did the second and third, and he ran a hand through his dark hair in exasperation.
He just had to accept the fact that little Blue had crept up to him and slipped into his heart for good. And even Sherlock knew that he would stay there for a long, long time.
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Years later, Sherlock got married and had a child.
A boy.
There were arguments about the name, but even though Sherlock knew he was being stubborn, he also knew that none of the names his friends suggested felt right.
He didn't like Michael. He didn't like George. He didn't like Edward or Timothy. Not a single one.
The issue was, his spouse didn't like the names he chose for their son, either.
Not Anthony. Not Brian. Not Dexter. And no matter how much Sherlock begged, they wouldn't even let him name the boy John.
So, the two of them decided on a compromise. His beloved would choose the first name and him the second. And that was that.
An odd event occurred when they both joined together with the names they each had picked.
His partner chose a name he liked, and he chose a name that made everyone's eyes widen in disbelief.
The boy's first name was to be Allan. Simple, yet sweet.
His second name, Sherlock decided, was Blue.
Allan Blue Holmes.
He blew everyone away. Astounded, amazed and especially confused every single fortunate fellow to cross his path.
He had raven hair and perfect cupid's bow lips, like his father.
He had a bright grin and an impressionable glare similar to that of both his parents.
But that's not the least of it.
He had the biggest, roundest, kindest, most intelligent eyes Sherlock had ever seen.
But what made him love his son even more, was their beautiful, intricate hue.
They were green.
A.N. I got this idea randomly one time at like ten o'clock at night two years ago on a Sunday... I don't know why I remember that. Anyway, after I wrote this, I asked my friend (whom I forced to read this) if I should do an epilogue in which Blue meets his name sake at a football game... She said no, but I wanna know what you guys think. Also, I tried very hard (it was hard cuz I never really do this and I ran out of synonyms for "spouse") to keep Sherlock's (*sigh*) spouse without a gender, in case any of you think he's gay. Or Bi. Or anything but straight... basically. Tbh, it could have been John, if you're like Johnlock... Not sure if I am. (See I say that I'm in between-ish but if I read a fluffy Johnlock fic, it makes me grin and I get all warm and fuzzy inside so...) Cool. So, thanks for reading and feel free to leave a review if you liked it. Praise and constructive criticism really motivates me to write better and write more so... You don't have to though. Ah! Enough of me rambling! Hope you liked it.
-Blue
