Hamish is one today. One. A whole year has gone by since he was born, and back then I didn't even know if I wanted him, at least until I saw him. Why am I getting all mushy? I was never emotional before.

What have Hamish and John done to me?

John is insisting that we have a party. Hamish won't even know what's happening, or remember it but John says it's some sort of 'life experience'. That, if Hamish didn't have one, he would be the odd one out and that it might a detrimental effect on him in the future. Mycroft and I never had a single party and we turned out fine.

We had invited our 'friends', or at least people that liked John and family who were stuck with me. Molly and her boyfriend (who had three secret children and a wife that John wouldn't let me tell her about), Lestrade and Mycroft- who were now an item, Mrs Hudson, Harry and Clara (Harry had been sober for over a year and they had gotten back together a few months ago), a friend of John's from the army that had twins around Hamish's age and John's parents. He had wanted my mother and father to come but I refused. They don't like celebrations of any kind.

John won't let me deduce anything about any of them. Apparently, if one of them gets upset it will 'ruin the atmosphere' and the party will have gone badly. This was going to be so boring. I couldn't even sit with Hamish all the time as other people would want to see him; apparently they needed him on their lap and couldn't just look.

Hamish is on the floor playing with an abacus I bought him. Obviously not using it, he just likes moving the beads around. Though we won't give all Hamish his presents until later we have told him what day it is and he seems excited, at least about the balloons John is currently blowing up.

"Sherlock, will you put that stuff away?" He said, indicating the experiment on the kitchen table.

"It isn't 'stuff' John, I need to find out about these mould cultures and it needs to remain set out or it may change the structure."

"We have food to put out, move them carefully then." He sighed "Put them in our room if you have to."

"But they'll-"

"Sherlock." John said forcefully and I knew that if I didn't move them, he would and probably disturb something.

I took the Petri dishes into the bedroom and placed them on a free shelf in the wardrobe (something I kept on case I needed certain conditions for experiments and John hated – ("A brain near our clothes, Sherlock. Really?"')

At the bottom, there were stacks of presents for Hamish.

I would usually just buy him something as soon as I saw it or if it was something he seemed attracted to but apparently that's spoiling him so I have to space the gifts out.
Despite this we were allowed to get him as many presents we wanted today. We had spent hours last night wrapping everything. John had got him finger paints, a bike with a handle so we could push Hamish around, play dough, a set with plastic food to 'play shop', a ball (which had been apparently a 'bugger' to wrap), some DVDs and teddies. I had bought him books; some which I would read to him (mostly fiction- Enid Blyton, Treasure Island all to set off his imagination) and some bright picture books, building blocks, a teddy, shape-sorting boxes, a tower building puzzle and for the first time; though this was special, it could be pressed and would help him play a recording which would help him to learn shapes and colours (most of the sites say he's too young for that but, obviously, he's very advanced). There was something else we had bought together for him, but that didn't fit in here.

When I came back in, John was stood on a chair putting up a banner and Hamish was laid on the couch with a bottle. "Why? Everyone knows what the party is for."
"It's tradition, you know like Christmas decorations?" We had argued about those, and he had explained at length about a 'Christmassy feel' that made him happier, so I guess that this was a similar concept. "Will you put Hamish down for his nap, love? He'll need to sleep before the party."

I picked Hamish up and he immediately buried his head in my shirt and mumbled "Vi." When I took put him to bed I'd read or play him my own version of a lullaby. And apparently he wanted music today so I picked up my violin as we passed to his room.
I placed Hamish in his cot and took the violin from its case. I brought the bow back and played long, high notes then longer baritone ones until I hear muffled little snores and he was asleep.

I went downstairs and sat on the couch, indicating for John to sit by me. "In a minute, I need to bring the presents out." I sighed, rolling my eyes "Why don't you help me?" I got up lazily, acting as if it was difficult and that I didn't want to, hoping for a certain reaction form John. I was rewarded when he took my hand and dragged me with him.
I leant forward and whispered in his ear "Why don't we use this time more effectively?" And planted kisses down his neck.

John shivered and turned back to me so he could wrap his arms around my neck. We kissed; his lips as soft and serious as ever against mine, then he pulled away just as my hands travelled down his torso.

"No Sherlock. Not now, we have things to do. Everything has to be perfect."
He opened the wardrobe and began putting the presents in a pile so he could carry them.

"Umph." I groaned, pouting. I sat down on the bed heavily.

"Don't you dare give me that face." He said, not looking around.

I gave up, he was far too stubborn right now, when he was a on a mission to get everything done.

"Though, if you helped me we might…" He was cut off when I almost wrestled a pile of gifts from his hands.

"Get the one we left at Mrs Hudson's." He said when I had taken the first pile in

.
I ran down and went in "Mrs Hudson, I'm getting Hamish's presents!" I called. She was in the living room watching some cooking show on TV.

"You cook much better than that." I added kissing her cheek as I passed.
"Thank you, dear. Will you tell me what that is now?" I went into her kitchen cupboard to get the present.

"Oh, I thought John had."

"No. What is it then?"

"I'm not telling." I said flashing her a smile and bounded up the stairs with the large cardboard box.

"Back!" I shouted, unable to open the door.

"Shhhhhh. Hamish." John whispered, opening the door.

"Are you done?"
"Yes, love." John followed me into the living room, where I placed the box in the midst of the rest of the presents. "Come here."

***

We were sat on the sofa, John's head resting on my shoulder.
We heard the door go downstairs and John looked to me.

"Mycroft."

We said together. "Oh, and Lestrade." John added, I had commented due to that fact being painfully obvious that they were together.

John jumped up from the sofa to get the door "Sherlock, go wake Hamish up. He's slept enough, anyway."

I leapt up the stairs so that I would be able to get up there before my brother came into the apartment.

Hamish was already stood up in his cot. "Fa!" He said in delight, jumping up and down slightly "Book?"

"Not right now, Hamish." I lifted him from the cot "It's your party."
"Par?" He asked as I put him in the clothes John had picked earlier, a white shirt and some jeans (these were from Mycroft and apparently some famous brand).

"Party. Remember Dad told you?" Hamish looked confused and leant into me.

"Book!"

"I want to read too, Hamish." I said lifting him "But you'll have fun and you can eat ice-cream, you have presents too."

We came downstairs and Mycroft was looking down at the presents, undoubtedly guessing what each one was while John and Lestrade- maybe I should start calling him Greg, now he and Mycroft are an item- were talking about rugby.

"My!" Hamish squealed, reaching out for his uncle.

"Ah, Hamish." He took Hamish and then lifted up a bag with his other hand "I have something for you."

"Book?" Hamish asked hopefully.
"No, your father always wanted books too, until he got older and was allowed science equipment. But that was when he was older than you are now no one read to him."

Hamish looked disappointed and Lestrade gave me a pitying look. People always did that when Mycroft talked about our childhood, I had found that our experiences were different to most people.

The doorbell rang again. Harry and Clara; Mrs Hudson came up with them. She was very dressed up. Mycroft let Hamish open his gift- a toy which spun and 'spoke' and would help him learn the alphabet, then passed him to Harry.

She cooed over him then gave him a present, a large teddy bear, and then gave him to Mrs Hudson around 5 minutes later who gave him a set of those cardboard books and a jumper she had knit.
John went into the kitchen to make cups of tea for everyone, leaving me to play host. I stood and watched as Hamish 'chatted ' to Mrs Hudson, Mycroft, Harry and Clara were in some conversation and Lestrade had taken John's camera and was now taking pictures of Hamish.

Ugh, there were going to lots taken today. I wasn't as bothered now, but they were still irritating.
I got my phone out and began looking up what the air in the wardrobe could do to my specimens. "Sherlock! Put that away!" John hissed, coming in with the tea.

"Yes, very good host, my brother." Added Mycroft taking a cup from John's tray. "No sugar, low fat milk?"

"Yes, Mycroft." John said pleasantly before I could explain how obvious it was.

The doorbell rang and John's hands were full so I went this time. Molly and John's friend Ray were there. Molly was bent over the pram talking to the twins in a high voice and baby talk. "Hello Sherlock." She said, standing up.

"Please refrain from talking to Hamish like that. I don't want him to talk like an idiot."
"Yes, you've told me before."

A quick 'Hi' from Ray was added as he took the twins from the pushchair and left it at the foot of the stairs.

"Weren't you bringing a boyfriend?" Oh, no she dumped him, heard the call from his wife.

"Will you get Clementine, Sherlock?" Ray interrupted, before I could tell her that I knew about it all already. Ugh, other people's babies were sticky and irritating. Why were so many named so stupidly?

I replied with "Yep." And we walked up the stairs. Why do people think I like all babies just because I have Hamish?

Molly was chattering away about something nonsensical, a TV show or play or some celebrity but I wasn't listening. I just on keeping this child's hands away from my shirt- normally I wouldn't have minded but this was John's favourite, the purple one.
We came in just as the door went again, John's parents. "Do you want me to go again, love?" I called.

But John wasn't in the room, the responding shout came from upstairs. "Yes please, I'm just changing Hamish." John's mother stood at the door, his father slightly behind.

"Sorry we're late, dear. Don forgot his wallet." she kissed me on the cheek.

John's father huffed past with a grunt. He doesn't like me at all; he thinks I turned John gay. Well, I pretty much did, John had never liked men before, but I had never liked anyone before so it evened out.

With two children in homosexual relationships, you'd think he'd be more open, but Don had grown up with an extremist Catholic mother (he didn't practice) so he was against it, though he swallowed this when around John or Harry.

John's mother rushed upstairs; it was rare they came down to see Hamish. If we went to see them the stay would be short as I couldn't be away from London in case work came up and I couldn't be away from John and Hamish for more than a couple of days either, so they couldn't go without me.

I peered into the street, hoping there was something interesting out there that I could use as an excuse to get out of the part for a few minutes.
"Where's my grandson?" I heard from upstairs as I closed the door and ran up the narrow staircase. Finally Hamish would be able to open the things John and I had bought him.

"Here, Mum." John was just walking back in, Hamish playing with his hair.

"Grandma's here Hai!" He put Hamish on the floor and hugged his mother, Hamish immediately walked over to me.

"Book?" He asked longingly and reached his arms up to me.

"No, Hamish. But we'll see what you have when you open your presents." I picked him up, hugged him briefly and gave him to Sue (never Mrs Watson, it made her seem old).
"You want to see what Grandma got you?" She asked and pulled out a large box from the bag she was carrying.

"Book?" Hamish asked again, expectantly.

"What is it with that child and books?" John's father asked.

"Sherlock usually reads to him after his nap, so he's missed out today. He's just confused by something different happening."

"He should be wanting to go outside. You used to run about all the time at that age, John."

"Hamish is different Dad. He'll probably hate sports like Sherlock."

"How can a man hate sport?"

I interrupted, seeing John's face get tense "They're extremely dull. And will you please stop inflicting your stereotypical views on us. It's my son's birthday, so if you want to argue I suggest we do it of his earshot."

John's father sat down sulkily and waited for his turn with Hamish. "Thank you love, but I can fight my own battles." John whispered in my ear.

"I know, but you hate confrontation with your parents and I wanted him to shut up."
Meanwhile, Hamish had opened his present, a very large wooden train set. He was frowning at the box. "Do you like trains, Hamish?" Sue asked sitting down and bouncing him on her lap.

Hamish just looked over at me longingly, wanting his story. It took all I had not to wrench him from her grasp and go sit quietly in the bedroom and read to him.
The rest of them gave Hamish their gifts (a set of cars and some sponge balls form Molly, a couple of action figures form Mike). Then it was our turn.

Hamish had slid off Molly's lap and was coming towards me, wanting to be picked up, I took his hand and went to the present dragging the twins away from the pile, Hamish himself had been looking at them for a long time, but he focused on other things, like his book, and the presents he was already getting.

"What first, Hai?" John asked sitting down and pulling Hamish onto his lap. The others had gathered round, but we barely noticed them.

Hamish reached for the largest present of all, the one we had kept at Mrs Hudson's. John passed him it and Hamish stood to get it open.

Everyone was watching in awe, and I think even Mycroft didn't know what was inside.
"Wow." Sue breathed as Hamish tore off the wrapping to reveal the ornately carved wooden rocking horse.

"Go." Hamish said immediately as he saw the rocking horse through the gaps in the side. Whenever John took him shopping he's sit on the horse ride there and cry when they had to go so we bought him his own.

John laughed and opened the box with a penknife from his pocket, gazing at Hamish, his eyes filled with the same adoration I knew was reflected in my own. John slipped his arm around me, pulling me close. "I knew it was your favourite. Of course you can have a ride now."

"I always wanted one as a kid." John added, seemingly only just remembering the rest of the people there.

"Sherlock had one, but he got carried away when he was 7 and tried to motorise it so he could ride away." Mycroft said from behind me.

"He said." John ignored the smugness in my brother's voice. Mycroft was gloating, knowing that I wouldn't bite today.

When the wooden horse was out, I lifted Hamish on to it and pushed him. He laughed in delight. I knelt at his side, letting his laughter bubble around inside me, warming me, filling me. When John and I were married I thought my life was complete, now we have Hamish I knew that I was missing something back then and now I finally have it.
The perfect life.