The Lost Stories of Holmes and Watson
Responsibility
Sherlock Holmes was so bored he was reading the comments on John's blog, those responding to their findings of their most recent case, a mute serial killer. "Language creates distortion of meaning in attempting to communicate meaning."
Dull.-SH, he texts.
Leaving his office, Doctor Watson's phone chirps and reading Sherlock's text he shakes his head. Most likely, John guessed, Sherlock was replying to some comment in a conversation that took place within his own mind.
I never understand you. Heading to market soon. Need anything? –JW, entering a cab, watching London roll by.
Milk.-SH
Of course...O god what a day, screaming kids not wanting their shots and grouchy old people. What about you? -JW
John. I'm bored.-SH
Outside store now. I will be home soon. Actually..., in the adjacent store something catches his attention-
Give me an extra few minutes. -JW
Why?-SH
Something else I need to buy. -JW
What do you need to buy?-SH
Shutting down the computer, eyes furrowed in thought, attempting to analyze John's sudden request. Nothing else to do, he picks up his violin, and composes for awhile. Although his restlessness causes him to put it down quickly and he quickly fishes for his phone.
John, come home. I'm bored.-SH
I'm surprised. Almost at flat. I found something to keep you busy when there are no cases. -JW
Dissatisfied, Sherlock frowns and tosses the mobile on the desk. Sitting in his hair he rubs his palms together waiting anxiously. To his fortune he hears the door to 221 B open downstairs, John is fumbling with something.
"No. No , no...!"
"What? John! You're home!"
Invigorated with energy, Sherlock briskly walks over, and before reaching the stairs something runs around his feet.
"My God! Is that a dog?"
"Hallo Sherlock...", John says meekly, gathering up the spilled groceries. The puppy paws and Sherlock's trousers. Watching him seriously, Sherlock reaches down and picks up the wagging, panting beagle.
"John. You bought a dog."
"Yes I bought a puppy, a living- breathing- animal- not" John's tone captures Sherlock's attention, "not a possible experiment subject."
Although serious, John smiles again, looking up at him as Sherlock glares down.
"I'm not as immoral as you believe I am."
"Ha-ha just to be sure is all."
Finally gathering everything else, John makes his way to the top of the stairs scratching the pup, who is happily wagging its tail.
"He's quite... small."
"Of course he is, young. Also he was a rescue that the pet owner found, very energetic. Yep defiantly keep you busy."
Leaving Sherlock at the top the stairs, John walks through the living room to the kitchen, still instructing as he goes.
"He must be walked and cleaned. I guess we will both feed him, but still."
Walking slowly, Sherlock stands in the middle of the room,
"Does he- does he have a name?"
Setting the milk in the kitchen, then moving inside John finds Sherlock fixated on this puppy. He plops into the sofa.
"Hmmm...No, any idea? Preferences?
At first Sherlock stares into space, no doubt rummaging through the world's names, but very quickly he looks away with one suggestion.
"Hamish?"
Hearing the slight hesitation and his own name, John's eyes snap up to Sherlock, not looking directly at him. Instead he lowers his head, scratching the back of his neck.
"I was hoping to save that name for something else", mumbling under his breath.
"Save that name for what?"
"Hm sorry? Nope just thinking...Hamish...Hey! Let him down, he wants to run." Observing Hamish's squirming and whining, Sherlock's expression does not change.
"Yes, I'm aware", Sherlock says dryly, placing Hamish down, who proceeds to scamper round the room, snipping here and there.
"What were you saving the name for?"
John sighs, sliding on the floor and teasing Hamish when he comes near.
"I was going to save that name for ...the future. Possibly my son..." John says carefully.
"With... Sarah?" A tone of sadness in Sherlock's voice.
"Sarah...no no, I we are broke up a week ago, haven't you noticed I haven't been out evenings? Probably jealous of you since I am always working with you."
Ending with a chuckling and delighted watching Hamish enjoy his belly scratch, pawing the air. Sherlock wants answers, but needing to choose his words carefully as to not upset John, he squats down to awkwardly pat the dog.
"Then whose child?"
"Not sure yet", blushing, eyes dart at Sherlock for a second, he needs to escape this topic now. Luckily Hamish turns over, licking Sherlock's fingers and teething on them lightly.
"Hey I think he likes you."
"He's... cute."
As the words vibrated into the air, John begins to scoff, holding back his laughter as best as he can. Unsuccessfully.
"Did the World's Consulting Detective just say 'cute'?"
Hearing the laugh, Sherlock glares, releasing a snort leaving John in giggles as Hamish watches in interest, listening in interest.
"O if Mycroft were here, have a field day."
In a moment of silence, Sherlock is pulled back into his own investigation. He needs to hear the truth from John for he saw his expression when John mused about having a child while avoiding his deducing eyes.
"John... when you were talking about a son. Why were you looking at me like that?"
"Generally when you talk to people you face them...I was just answering you is all."
"No. You were looking at me oddly. You were blushing and acting... bashful."
"Bashful. It's just...It's nice to think of being a father someday", John had never considered if Sherlock would ever want children, except now the idea made him curious.
"...Sherlock..." carefully, "Do you want kids someday?"
"Depends on if I ever develop a relationship with someone."
"Of course, but I mean...the general idea. O goodness! A little, clever boy running around, hopefully not driving his professors crazy!"
His imagination shows him a Mini Sherlock running around, solving the neighborhood mysteries and annoying his peers. But there is this feeling that he wants to be beside this little boy, to help him, and…and-
"If I ever had a child, I would undoubtedly home school him or her. Couldn't have him... bullied, as one might put it, on account of his intellect", Sherlock quickly says, interrupting John's daydream.
"And leave them with no social interaction? You would make another sociopath. I guess...it's a balancing act as they say. A little bit of everything is needed to make a whole, like two halves right?"
"Yes... two halves." Sherlock muses on the words. The idea.
"Sure, school him or her with extra lessons when home but still enroll them so he or she might work with other children."
Finishing on that note John smiles at Sherlock, who smiles in return, hoping John didn't read into his 'two halves' comment. Hamish now chews eagerly on John's shoe, making him laugh and wrestle him with his hands. Next to him, Sherlock clears his throat.
"Well, I'm sure you'd be a fantastically ordinary father."
"And you would be an insane, genius one."
No matter how he attempted to hide it, John saw Sherlock's eye twinkle at the schooling idea and it is not until Hamish begins to tug at Sherlock's pants do the two finally break out of their trance.
"O hm. Might be hungry, let's go, it is dinner" suggests John.
"UGH. I don't want to leave the flat", Sherlock groans as he flops onto the sofa and placing Hamish on his stomach.
"I meant I was going to make it, can't leave him all alone yet, not fully trained. Keep an eye him eh?" John winks at Hamish.
Moving quickly into the kitchen, he hears Sherlock.
"Ah, so you trust the dog to keep an eye on me?"
"Yep."
Hamish yips in answer too.
"Ha-ha, he's clever."
"Humph. Shows how great of a father you'll be. You'll leave the seven-year-old in the care of the newborn. He's almost as clever as me. I like him."
"Good" John says simply, poking his head out of the kitchen.
An hour and a half later, John walks back into the living room finding Sherlock, for once, unmoved. His eyes are dreamily closed, yet lightly scratching Hamish's head. The scene in front of him fits well into the room, John really begins to take it in, wanting to preserve this memory, yet he is slightly startled-
"Thank you, John. For the dog", Sherlock murmurs quietly.
"Oh, of course, Sherlock. So whose hungry?"
"Let's eat here. The dog's asleep."
"But Sherlock, he has to eat now because when we eat is when he has to eat. Develop a sort of schedule right? Whooose hungry! Dinner, dinner!"
John's being overly ridiculous, lightly nudging Hamish awake, who yawns sleepily and jumps down lethargically. Inside the kitchen John places a newly purchased food bowl on the floor with some kibble and water.
"Spaghetti with fish fingers and custard for the humans. Red wine?" he asks when Sherlock finally enters.
"For the dog? Hardly healthy."
"Sherlock", John rolls his eyes.
"Yes, John? Ah, the suggestion of wine was for me, not the dog. Well, no thank you."
"More for me then."
"John? Do you really think I would be an alright parent?"
John plays out the scenario in his mind as the two settle into their chairs and meals. Hamish is eating loudly, clearly enjoying his own. Although he knows Sherlock has trouble reading people, when he pictures Sherlock with one of his own, it is completely different. He sees him meeting his son outside of school and eagerly asking him what he learned that day so he might correct his son's teachers. He sees him intimidate and investigate his daughter's recently acquired boyfriend, quizzing him and intimidating him with his harpoon. The images create a grin. Sherlock waits patiently.
"I do. Really, I mean I think having a kid around would help you...Help identify with emotions maybe? Train yourself at least or maybe with a child bring forth your paternal instincts."
"Humph" swallowing his pasta in a huff.
"Come on Sherlock. You would be a good Dad, a great one" ending on the bite of a fish finger.
"Really?"
"Yes...I really do."
Sincerely John looks Sherlock squarely in the eye who in turn blushes, crouching down to pat the Hamish. He finished his own kibble quickly, the smell of other food leaving him to beg bellow them. Meanwhile John sips thoughtfully from his glass, slowly draining his glass. A pressing question escapes him.
"Would you ever adopt Sherlock? Planet's already populated with too many people, lot of kids with no home."
"I probably would, mostly because the practicality of giving birth confuses me."
"Even as a doctor I probably would be too" John chuckles filling a second glass.
From his answer Sherlock ponders John's words. Entering the Mind Palace he observes John bandaging his daughter's scraped knee from when she fell off her bicycle, kissing her with reassurance to soften her tears. Further along he observes John play soccer with his son, each tripping over each other and collapsing into laughter. Sherlock so badly desires to be there with them.
"John... would you ever consider... adopting a child... with me?"
Silence slices in the air, so much so John could hear his heart stop and the flutter of butterfly wings invade his stomach. Yet he knows his answer.
"Yes...ya why not? ...But people would talk you know..."
"That would bother you, wouldn't it..." states a disappointed Sherlock.
"No, well...People say such horrible things is all. But if it's with you...I would endear it."
"So would you object to having... a family with me?"
John looks down, scratching his nail into the wood, thoughtfully. Their dinners finished almost long ago. Reflecting back to his imagination, he inserts Sherlock there with him by his side. It looks right.
"No...I...", breathing out sharply, "I look forward to it."
In nervousness the two almost bolt up at the same time, Sherlock moving first awkwardly sitting back on the couch with John.
"What about... having a relationship with me?"
Hamish follows along, almost tripping over himself, and finding them in his now favorite spot, he paws at them. Now a little relaxed, Sherlock takes the puppy into his lap, smiling and cooing at him.
Next to him the question buzzed in John's mind. Smirking at Sherlock's childishness and biting on his lower lip.
"You really think you want it?"
"Well...yes" answering with certainty.
Resting his chin on Sherlock's shoulder, gazing up at him, John tells his answer.
"O god yes. Guess we have been delaying the inevitable...
"I suppose so" Sherlock says slightly uneasy as John nuzzles his head into Sherlock's neck.
"First let's practice with Hamish ok?"
"Yes. Let's."
"Hey Sherlock", reaching over and squeezing his hand, "We are going to be Dad's...it's sounds so incredibly right..."
"I know, doesn't it?" beginning to sound delighted and relieved.
"Ya it does." Pecking Sherlock's neck, giggling from his tipsiness. "Look at us being domestic!" He is answered with giggles.
"Oh lord, what've I gotten myself into?"
John places his hand on Sherlock's cheek, turning his head to face him.
"I dunno but you're with me right?"
"Right" stating in confidence.
"Two halves remember?" John murmurs giving Sherlock a light kiss finding his partner grinning.
"Two halves, you and me."
"Ya…"
Sometime passes and Hamish begins to slow down again. The food is now making him drowsy, catching John's attention. His watch indicates the lateness of the night.
"We should let Hamish sleep, start with him tomorrow. Also which side of the bed would you prefer?" Wink,
"Hmmm... we can all sleep together tonight?"
"I don't want to bump Hamish off the bed if- I dunno, but I can set up some blankets for him on the floor" frowning at Sherlock
"He can't stay in the bed?" the child pouts.
"Ok, ok fine. Which room? Yours? Mine?"
"Yes! Sorry. Erm... yours."
Picking up the sleepily puppy, John heads for his room.
"Good. Hey, if we have a son, Arthur? Charlie? Martin? Benedict? All good names."
"I like Martin and Benedict..." Sherlock suggests, not having to think long.
"And a girl?"
"Hmm…Rose, Martha, Donna, or Amelia is good for me. You?"
"Brilliant."
Inside John settles Hamish softly on the bed, drawing the curtains and blinds. He begins to strip down, facing away from Sherlock.
"Which side of the bed? I'm fine either way, though I should warn you, be careful waking me up forcefully. Army reflexes and all...Kind of why me and Sarah broke up" John concludes sheepishly.
"I don't care. I'd like to be in between you and Hamish."
"Alright", turning around, down to his boxers, Sherlock changed into only pajama pants, "he would be like a little hot water bottle, how adorable."
Once John slips in bed, Sherlock leaps in next to him, hugging John and letting Hamish lick John's face. Laughing pervades the air.
"Oof, hey hey guys."
The two grin at each other and share more chuckles. When they finally calm down they lie still as Hamish takes his position lying on top of them.
"Sherlock."
"John."
"Hamish", they say at the same time as the pup picks up his head.
"This is good", breathes Sherlock.
"It is. Will this all finally make you sleep you think? You know, develop a normal sleeping pattern?"
"Maybe. Having two lovely, snuggly creatures in bed with me."
"Ya well..."
Sherlock cuddles further into John, cooing like an idiot.
"Don't tell me. 'Jawn'?"
"You're Jawn..."
"O Sherlock..." John rolls his eyes.
"Yes?"
"You are silly but lovely."