Sherlock as a toddler, with George Smiley as his grandfather. I can see the adorable, can't you? Also there are a few bits of French, which I think you can understand through context but if you can't they are also translated below. Thank you to alexiel2001 and proof-that-sherlock-has-a-heart for the lovely French translations that you both volunteered after I sent out a rather desperate "HALP" on tumblr. You two saved my life with this.

Enjoy!


Sher was toddling happily around the large flat in Chelsea, following a "treasure trail" left for him by grand-père, while Peter gnawed on his thumbnail—watching George have a friendly talk with Mykie. The ten year old boy's eyes were solemn and attentive, but Peter could tell that half of him was cocked to pay attention to Sher's happy giggles. Belinda had wandered off to Scotland for the summer, leaving Sher and Mykie in Peter's care—it was only right, everyone nodded to themselves at the Circus, that since he'd knocked her up he look after her children. He was now avoided by most of the women down in Registry and in Archives which was a great treat and relief. He was That awful Guillam man. Nice enough, takes care of that kid he left Miss Holmes with. Won't marry her though, the git—don't let him smooth talk you Renee. That, and still no one knew about Richard, save for Smiley and Mykie.

And Sher, but no one listened to a little three year old boy—who, in some bizarre twist of fate really was Peter's child. The baby photos which Peter's mother kept on her mantelpiece bore it out—her boy, her stupid, stupid, queer French boy given to her by her stupid French husband, and her adorable little grandson. Spitting images of one another save the color of their hair.

Peter had to make sure that the two boys would look out for one another, and if he was lucky then they'd look out for Queen and Country as well.

"Père!" The cover he used with Sher was that he was French—it easily explained his sometimes long absences, even when the boys stayed with himself and Richard or with George and Ann. Peter's French had gotten a great deal better in the last three years, as he mostly spoke it to Sher to cement the identity in the child's mind. Mykie knew, of course, but played along. The boy's French was a treasure to hear, and it thrilled Richard at home. Richard, stuck teaching German when his passion and talent was in French.

"Nous sommes bien ici, Peter." George was atrocious at the language, but he was as game as Mykie to Peter's deception. He also pushed Peter into being fatherly in situations where he felt out of his depth and childish more than anything—he wasn't ever supposed to be a father. It wasn't one of the things he would have ever been allowed to have, given his proclivities. George was good enough to step in and play grandfather as well as coach Peter through this.

Sher had reached the end of George's puzzle game and was triumphantly scrambling his way down the stairs, his prize held aloft. A stuffed bear with an eyepatch—a toy which Belinda had scorned last Christmas, and Peter had been too self-conscious to purchase, and something which Sher had yearned for with all of his tiny being since the moment he'd seen it. George Smiley knew everything. Everything.

Peter smiled a little, kneeling down and letting the toddler jump into his arms and listening to his excited babbling—Belinda wouldn't take the bear away, not when she knew George Smiley had given it to her little boy. Peter would never take something from Sher, not on purpose at least.

"As-tu triché?" Mykie was always looking for the simplest solutions to things, which meant it was damned hard to keep him from cheating at games. If Peter and George could work that out of him, or help him to train it right, he would make a magnificent agent runner someday—George sometimes mentioned that he saw a lot of the old Control in Mykie, that perhaps in thirty or forty years they would have another to rival the Control who had guided the Service for three decades.

"Non, non, Père, non!" Sher was another matter. He was just barely three and could hardly be induced to cheat at anything—his big blue eyes would stare Peter down every time he searched Belinda's flat for taps or listening devices. She was a flighty woman, a mediocre parent, and Peter was glad to have shed most of her away—but he owed it to the boy he'd left her with, and the boy she already had, to keep her safe. Something, though, about the two of their personalities had formed a tiny core of steel in Sher.

His boy was as honest as the London rain.

"Ceci, is this what Grand-père gave you? Est-ce que tu aimes?"

"Si, Père, si!" Peter couldn't help but smile at Sher's enthusiasm. Of course Sher liked it, George had gotten it specifically for him because the old man had known Sher would like it.

"Bien."


French translations if you couldn't get them through context:

Grand-pere: Grandfather

Pere: Father

Nous sommes bien ici: We're fine here

As-tu triché?: did you cheat?

Non: no

Ceci: this

Est-ce que tu aimes? : Do you like it?

Si: yes

Bien: Good


Thank you SO SO SO SO much proof-that-sherlock-has-a-heart and alexiel2001 over on tumblr for the help with the French translations!


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