"We should tell Mycroft and Greg together." John passed Sherlock his tea and settled himself next to his husband on the sofa.
Sherlock nodded, swapping the yellow crayon for the green one and starting to colour in the grass while Hamish continued working on the sky.
"What do you think, Hamish?" he asked his son who looked up at Sherlock with John's eyes. "Do you think we should invite Uncle Mycroft and Uncle Greg over for dinner tonight?"
Hamish dropped his blue crayon back on to the table. "Uncle Myc and Uncle Greggie." he shouted, clapping his hands excitedly and running off into the bedroom.
John took Sherlock's hand, stilling it and removing the green crayon before interlocking their fingers and bringing it to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on the knuckles.
"I'll call Greg." he said, smiling at the expression of pure love which he could never get tired of seeing on Sherlock's face.
"Uncle Myc, Uncle Greggie!" Hamish squealed, wrapping his little arms around his uncles' legs.
Greg leant down and swept up the three-year-old into a hug. "Hey there, little man." he said as Mycroft planted a kiss on the toddler's forehead.
"Sherlock. John." Mycroft nodded to the couple who stood from the sofa.
"Mycroft. Greg." Sherlock smiled, cutting to the chase, "The tumour has been beaten."