"Papa!" Hamish's scream echoed in 221b Baker Street.

The little boy was going through the terrible twos and his lack of patience was a trait inherited from his black-haired father. He'd tried not to shout at his Papa because his Dad had told him that it was not a right thing to do, but his dear Papa had ignored him the first five times he'd called him so he was left with no other option. Sherlock took his eyes off from the slide he was examining on the microscope and looked down at his son who was staring at him with his bright blue eyes and pulling the bottom of his trousers.

"Sorry Hamish, I didn't notice you were here," Sherlock said, picking his son up and sitting him on his lap. "I thought you were going to help Dad with something."

"Daddy says you help too." The boy said as he caught his father's cheek between his fingers and tugged at it in awe.

"Help with what?" Sherlock asked, trying to take his son's hand off of his face.

"Dec-deco-decoate." The little boy struggled with the word.

Hamish was a very talkative boy for a toddler his age but he still had some troubles when it came to pronounce the letter "r" along with some others. He also had some problems with the grammar but he was still way better than other kids who could barely say two syllables words and that made Sherlock a very proud father.

"I'm sorry Hamish, but right now I'm very busy."

Sherlock put his son back on the floor to continue with his experiment but he was interrupted by him, again.

"No!" Hamish shouted, glaring at the detective. "You help!"

"I can't Hamish; I already told you I'm busy." The consulting detective ran a hand trough Hamish's black curls to try and calm him down but that only make him worse.

"No! Papa help decoate!" Hamish stated and he began kicking the air with his little baby legs, getting ready for a major temper tantrum.

"Hamish, please don't do this," Sherlock practically begged to his son.

The baby boy's eyes started to water and his bottom lip began to tremble. Oh, that look! That specific look of innocence in his son's eyes was Sherlock's biggest weakness.

"Papa," the little boy's voice broke. "Please."

Hamish was only two but Sherlock was sure he was aware of the effect that look and that voice had on him and that it would win him over in just matter of seconds.

"Alright, its okay, I'll decorate with you." Sherlock finally agreed, trying to avoid tantrum his son would have thrown had he refuse.

Sherlock stood up and followed his son out of the kitchen -where his experiment was taking place- to the living room where they found John sitting on the floor, unpacking all kinds of Christmas ornaments.

"Daddy, me and Papa help." Hamish excitedly announced as he ran to sit next to his other father.

"Thank you so much, love." John kissed his boy's forehead. "Can you unpack everything in this box?" He asked, pushing a small box next to Hamish.

"Yes, Dad" Hamish said and happy with the first chore he had been given, he began to unpack the ornaments from the little box.

"Why are you decorating?" Sherlock asked.

"Huh... Christmas." John answered, confused by the very obvious question his husband just asked.

"But Christmas is in three weeks."

"I've decide to start earlier this year, so we are not doing last minute Christmas decorating like always." John explained. "Besides, your parents are visiting tomorrow and I want the flat to look nice."

"What!? My parents are visiting!? Why didn't you tell me before!? I would have think of a plan to convince them to visit Mycroft instead." Sherlock was absolutely shocked by the news he'd just receive. He obviously didn't want his parents marauding around his flat or his mother scolding him for doing experiments on the kitchen table, although since Hamish had been born, he'd been making sure to clean and disinfect every time he finished experimenting.

"I did tell you, your mother even rang to tell you and you would know it if you listened to her once in a while and they can't visit Mycroft instead because he'll be joining us here too." John replied.

"Great, we're having the whole Holmes family for dinner." Sherlock said. Sarcasm filling his voice.

"Yes, and you better be on your best behaviour, Sherlock." His husband warned him.

The detective looked down at his husband and son. They both looked absolutely excited with the idea of Christmas, especially little Hamish who was amazed by all the bright lights and the funny stuff he and his Dad were unpacking. Last year he had been too young to actually enjoy what was going on but right now he seemed to be having the time of his short life. Sherlock might not be very fond of the entire 'Christmas boding time with the family' thing, but he did love seeing the two people he loved the most happy, so the least he could do was trying.

"Alright" Sherlock surrendered. "What do I do?"

"You are going to help me decorate the tree." John stated and pointed towards a Christmas tree that was in a corner of the flat.

Sherlock had no idea how'd the tree got in there. John must have brought it when he was in his Mind Palace and didn't notice it.

"Me too" Hamish said excitedly while taking out of the box a Santa hat.

"Yes, Hamish, you too" John reassured him. "You can put up the ornaments and Daddy and I will put up the lights."

"Okay." The little boy smiled, clearly pleased. "Look, Papa, a hat!" Hamish exclaimed, waving a red and white hat for his Papa to see.

"That's right, Hamish. It's a Santa hat." Sherlock said to his son.

Hamish put on the hat but it was too big for him and covered not only his head but also his face.

"Not see!" The toddler complained.

John took the hat off his child's head and ruffled his curls. Then he stood up, went to his husband and placed the hat on his head giving it a little pad. Hamish let out a giggle at the sight of his Papa wearing the silly Santa hat.

"Do I look funny, Hamish?" Sherlock asked while dedicating a genuine smile to his son.

Hamish nodded and giggled again before putting his attention back in the Christmas decorations.

"I think you look very handsome." John said as he wrapped his arms around his husband's waist and kissed him gently on the lips.

Sherlock's response was to hold John's face and sweetly kissed him back.

"Eww..." They heard a disapproving sound coming from Hamish.

As any other little kid, Hamish found the displays of affection performed by adults completely gross. His parents just laugh and John gave Sherlock a soft peek on the lips before pulling away.

"Let's hang some Christmas lights." Sherlock said, finally accepting the fact that he was not going to be able to finish his experiment until they were done decorating.

He and John moved the tree from its place in the corner and placed it next to the window. They covered it with some colourful lights. Then it was Hamish's turn to put some ornaments on it. His parents obviously had to help him so not only the bottom part of the tree was decorated.

"Done!" Hamish declared once he had placed the last ornamentation, a small snowman with a blue scarf. The boy was obviously very proud of himself.

"Hold on, Hamish, you're missing the star." John told him and gave his son a plastic yellow star.

Sherlock proceed to lift him up and helped him place the star on top of the tree.

"Well done, Hamish." His Papa praised him.

"Good?" Hamish asked, looking for approbation from his both parents.

"Perfect, son" John smiled.

They attached some more lights to the inside of the windows and to the frame of the mirror above the mantelpiece. They ended up decorating the whole flat and even Billy the Skull got a Santa hat. Once they were done with all the decorations Hamish was both content and very tired even though he didn't want to admit it and was yawning while playing with his toys.

"Time for you nap, little man" John said as he picked him up to take him to bed.

"No!" Hamish instantly protested.

"No? What do you want to do, then?"

"Stay."

"You can't stay, Hamish, you're too tired." John tried to convince his son. "Don't you want to go take a nap?"

The little boy just shook his head, looking at his Dad with a pleading face.

"I watch telly." Hamish pleaded as a yawn betrayed his act.

"Mish, look at you, you can't..."

"Oh, let him stay, John." Sherlock interfered from where he was laying on the couch.

"Papa says I stay." Hamish said with sweetness filling his baby voice.

The two most adorable persons in the world against him. That was so unfair! They knew he just couldn't say no to those two.

"Alright, let's go watch telly with Papa." John surrendered. "But only twenty minutes and then you'll take your nap."

Hamish nodded eagerly as twenty minutes sounded like a lot of time to him.

John seated Hamish down on Sherlock's stomach but the baby boy quickly crawled and sprawled across his Papa's chest. Sherlock instinctively placed a hand over his son's back to hold him in place as he lifted his head for John to sit so he could rest his head on his husband's lap.

"You shouldn't spoil him all the time." John whispered to Sherlock while playing with his curls.

"I don't spoil him all the time," Sherlock argued. "I leave the spoiling duties to Mycroft."

John let out a little laugh. It was true Mycroft like to spoil his only nephew.

Just as Sherlock had predicted, the toddler had fallen asleep in less than five minutes, secure and warm on his father's chest and with the easiness that only enfants possessed. But much to his surprise the detective found himself closing his eyes too.

By the time the half hour was over, both father and son where peacefully sleeping and John couldn't help but smile at the tender sight of the world's only Consulting Detective taking a nap with their son.