Chapter 6
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.
Author's note: Explanation for this late update at end of chapter.
In the morning Sherlock was first to wake up, he stretched in bed, turned to watch John sleep for a moment, quite content to stare at the man's face, then he sat up, looked to the end of the bed where Hamish's bed was and smiled. Hamish wasn't a great sleeper, he did so many different things, it was like he couldn't settle! He had sleep-talked, sleep-walked, and he moved around a lot. Sherlock looked down and saw his son had fallen out of the bed, but it wouldn't have made much of a noise, as the duvet had fallen first and the bed was low.
Sherlock stood up, yawned, then walked to Hamish's side, picked him up, and placed him on the bed. Hamish was the size of a nine year old and was really quite light. He then bent down, lifted the duvet up, and lay it on his son, making it comfortable.
Hamish rolled onto his side and put his thumb in his mouth. Sherlock almost laughed, that old habit occasionally came forth. Every now and then Sherlock would catch Hamish with his thumb about to be put in his mouth, he wouldn't say anything, he'd just watch to see what Hamish did. The boy would normally frown, shake his head, and put his hand in his pocket. Sherlock carefully pulled Hamish's thumb out and ran a gentle hand through his hair. It was very early; he didn't want to wake him up.
Sherlock put a lamp on at the table and got back to working on the case.
Hamish was next to wake up, about seven in the morning it was.
"Good morning." Sherlock said without looking up from a piece of paper he held in his hand, a small focussed frown on his face.
"Mornin'." Hamish mumbled and got up, he shivered "It's cold."
"Hmm…" Sherlock said, obviously not really listening.
"Papa, I'm cold." Hamish repeated a little louder.
Sherlock sighed in irritation then looked away from the paper "Put a dressing gown on then." He said.
"My feet will still be cold then." Hamish said.
"Then put your slippers on." Sherlock said, shuffling a few papers around.
"Dad didn't pack me any. All I have are my trainers. And those thin socks." Hamish scowled.
"Well figure something out for yourself." Sherlock said.
"You've spoiled my morning." Hamish said grumpily, he looked around for a moment, Sherlock watched him. Hamish, after a moment of thinking, climbed into his parents' bed and lay his head on John's chest, he pulled the covers up so it covered up to his shoulder, gave a sniff, then mumbled "Dad doesn't ruin my morning." grumpily.
Sherlock felt a little bad. Hamish liked nice mornings; he liked to just be able to bumble along peacefully. He always had.
What made Sherlock feel even guiltier was that then, in his sleep, John wrapped an arm around his son, as if sensing the boy's presence and wanting to give him some comfort.
Sherlock returned to his work, feeling a little more down, but still focusing on the case.
About ten minutes later Sherlock looked back over at Hamish and saw that he looked a bit bored, like he was content in that spot, he didn't want to move, but he wanted something.
Sherlock stood up, got Hamish's book from next to his bed, and then passed it to him with a small smile.
Hamish smiled and took it and started reading happily.
About half an hour later Hamish folded the corner of his page, he preferred having a bookmark, he didn't like any damage to books. He didn't mind folding the corner, that was alright, but he didn't like drawing or writing in it, apart from putting a name on the first page. His dad was the same, when either of them picked up a book and found Sherlock had gone through it and made notes and corrections it would leave them a bit annoyed. But Sherlock found the fact that the other two didn't make notes and corrections equally annoying. Making notes helps to take in information and corrections are necessary! But in the end they all had their preferences.
Hamish put the book on the bed side table and watched his papa work. He felt bad for what he had said.
"You didn't ruin my morning." Hamish said.
Sherlock looked over at him and gave a smile and commented with "Good."
John groaned as he woke up, in need of a good stretch.
"Huh?" he frowned as he found Hamish beside him.
"I got cold and my bed isn't very comfortable." Hamish explained.
"Oh." John nodded in understanding "If you want I can go in your bed and you can sleep in this one for the rest of the week. I've slept in far worse, I assure you." John said.
"Have you? What else have you slept in that's worse than a thin mattress with strings poking in my back?" Hamish queried curiously.
"Oh, that's why you rolled out of bed!" Sherlock said "I thought you were just restless, but you must have been subconsciously trying to get more comfortable. When I got up I put you back in your bed." Sherlock elaborated.
"Aww, did our little baba fall out of bed?" John said with his teasing voice, pretending to go all baby-talk.
"Dad!" Hamish scowled, very much like Sherlock did, and rolled over, facing away. Sherlock chuckled and returned to work.
John was soon up and about, getting ready for the day.
"Right, breakfast time!" he announced while Hamish struggled into a jumper.
"I'm hungry." Hamish said.
"You coming, Sherlock?" John asked.
"No. Work to do."
"Okay then, we'll bring you up some toast after we've eaten. And by then we can leave and go to the station to get some more information and such, you can walk and eat." John said, he and Hamish walked out, closing the door behind themselves, and they made their way to the restaurant downstairs. There were lots of little tables and chairs dotted around and a big place where you serve yourself what you want, it was all included in the price.
Father and son sat down and tucked into their cereal and jam on toast (I think we all know who had the jam on toast).
Hamish was talking animatedly about the book he was reading, he was really enjoying it and explaining it to John with a smile and lots of hand gestures. John listened and asked a few questions but they both stopped when a woman walked backwards and into John's chair.
"Oops! Sorry!" she said.
"It's alright." John dismissed it.
Her eyes fell onto the man she had knocked and her eyes widened a bit "Hi, I'm Jenny!" she said.
"John." John politely returned "This is my son, Hamish." He said, gesturing to Hamish.
She gave him a small wave but her attention was on John.
"Are you new around these parts?" she asked.
"This is a hotel. Many people are new here!" Hamish said.
"Oh. Well, do you need anyone to show you round?" she asked, licking her lips.
John was about to decline, he wasn't warming to the woman very much. She was standing too close was one amongst many reasons.
Just before John could say no Sherlock suddenly swooped in and sat beside Hamish "Do indeed show us round! You work here, yes, the receptionist?" Sherlock said.
"Erm… yes." She seemed a bit flustered by the new man's arrival, but now her interest was away from John and focussed on this tall man.
"Good. Then after we've finished our breakfast we'll meet you at the entrance to this hotel and you can take us to see some sites." Sherlock said with a fake smile.
"Of course!" she grinned, winked, and left.
"I don't like her." Hamish stated once she was gone.
"Hamish." John frowned disapprovingly "You don't know her."
"Oh, John, no need to be so nice. You don't like her either, I can tell. But she is now necessary to the case. It's time to put up some disguises-"John cut Sherlock off.
"Hold on, what? Necessary to the case how?" John asked.
"I remembered her face from the front desk when we first arrived here. She was also in the case file. I've got it all planned out, I was coming downstairs to discuss it with you when I saw her chatting to you. One of the four men was her boyfriend." Sherlock explained.
"Really? Well, she moves on quickly." John said with raised eyebrows.
"Oh, he was the second man to be murdered; it was quite a few months ago. On file it says she gave interviews and such but they found nothing. I don't suspect she has anything to do with it, but she's obviously from here, she's friendly; she knows people and what goes on. We'll get information from her." Sherlock said.
"You're using her." John said with sharp eyes.
"I'm going to get her closure for the murder of her boyfriend and save more lives, I think it is necessary. Not to worry, we'll be kind. A nice family outing with a tour guide." Sherlock said.
John sighed, he wasn't happy about this, but in the end, sometimes playing a few tricks and putting up disguises was how the cases get solved, and with the cases Sherlock picks it is usually saving someone's life or putting very, very bad men in prison.
"What disguises will we have?" Hamish asked excitedly.
"Well, I'm going to be your single Uncle. John, you have recently been left by your wife and you and your son have come with me to Scotland to do some house-hunting. I'm being the supportive brother. She'll talk to us, tell us about the town, the people, stuff like that. A worried father gets information as he's asking for the safety of his son, makes people feel empathy. And she fancies me, if all goes well she'll try to impress me and chat with me so she'll give me all I need to know." Sherlock explained.
"That's a good idea!" Hamish smiled.
"Hmm…" John looked a little apprehensive.
"I hate having to do this, John. Trust me though, it's just going to be some flirting, and I will detest every moment of it." Sherlock said, taking John's hand across the table.
"Alright then. I trust you." John smiled.
"You better." Sherlock gave a cheeky smile.
John squeezed his hand.
Hamish cleared his throat loudly and the husbands let go as Jenny re-entered the room.
"Good spot there, Hay." John said and ruffled Hamish's hair. Sherlock nodded proudly.
Author's note:
15 days? I am so sorry! I've never been so long in updating! Well, I have been a little busy with organising media and film coursework, I also had an English exam, babysitting, and it snowed! So I've had a pretty ham-packed 2 weeks. Thanks for your patience! Please review! It would mean a lot!