Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.
Author's note: Please review! Thank you!
Sherlock and John had thought that Gavin looked like his mother. But the following day they met Gavin's father, and they looked incredibly alike. They both had straight jet black hair with slightly rosy cheeks and very deep blue eyes. And they were both similar in mannerisms.
"I'm Gavin's dad. My name is Fred. Good to meet you." Fred held out his hand.
John shook his hand with a smile.
"You too. I'm John and this is Sherlock. So, how is Gavin settling into Primary school?" John asked as Hamish and Gavin started doing the hop scotch before they were to go in to school.
"He's doing really well. I think a lot of that is thanks to Hamish. Gavin was terrified that he wouldn't make any friends. You see, at the nursery he went to he only had a few friends and we're new around here too." Fred said "What about Hamish?"
"He's never been brilliant with people. Which he gets from Sherlock. I mean, he's completely fine around me and Sherlock. But with new people he gets a bit shy and doesn't know what to do. We're so glad Gavin is his friend because we were unsure as to whether he would make any friends at all. You didn't have any friends, did you, love?" John asked the man next to him.
"None at all. You were my first friend, John." Sherlock stated.
"So you've never had a friend until John?" Fred asked curiously.
Sherlock shook his head and pointed out "They're going in now. Hamish come here!"
Hamish ran to Sherlock and John, hugging them both around the knees and taking his book bag and lunch from them.
"Have a lovely day!" John shouted after him.
"Hey, we're not doing anything today. Would you like to come to ours for some tea or coffee?" John asked politely.
"That would be nice, thank you. I can call my wife and get her to come along too." Fred smiled and got his phone out "Hi, Georgina! John and Sherlock, Hamish's parents have invited us over for some tea. I'll text you the address. Alright, darling. See you soon. Bye." Fred hung up.
"Where do you live?" he asked.
"221B Baker Street." John answered and they set off back home.
When they arrived Georgina was waiting outside.
"Do come in and take a seat." John offered as they walked into the flat.
Georgina looked down at the coffee table as she sat and asked "Do you write music?"
"Sherlock does. Oh, that! No, that's one of Hamish's pieces." John said as he looked properly.
"Hamish's pieces? Hamish writes music?" Georgina asked.
"Oh yes. He's very musical. He's always playing on Sherlock's violin, so we bought him a little one that he loves to play. Sherlock wrote the music out, but Hamish made that piece up." John explained.
"Blimey! Gavin said he was clever." Fred said with raised eyebrows.
"He's a genius. As am I." Sherlock sat in his armchair.
Gavin's parents just sat there in shock. Was Sherlock joking?
About an hour later John's mobile vibrated and he quickly answered it and everyone quietened down for him.
"Hello?... Yes, speaking… what? What happened?... Okay, alright, we'll be there as soon as possible… thank you, bye." John hung up and turned to Sherlock.
"What happened?" Sherlock asked, standing and putting his coat and scarf on.
"Hamish fell over. Nothing serious, but he's cut his knees and won't stop crying. You know how he is around other people when he's hurt or ill." John said, putting his coat on too "We'll have to bring him home. If he was older he would have stayed, but he's only four." John said and turned to Gavin's parents "I'm really sorry-"They cut him off.
"No, it's no trouble. We should get going home anyway. I hope Hamish is alright." Fred said, standing.
They all left the flat and Sherlock and John jogged to the school.
They were pointed to Hamish's classroom and knocked on the door.
"Come in!" The teacher called sharply.
Sherlock and John entered and found the children all listening to a story being read out to them by the teacher. Hamish was sat on a chair next to Gavin, he had tear tracks on his cheeks and his cheeks were flushed from crying.
"Daddy! Dadda!" Hamish called, his lower lip trembling and he reached for them.
John carefully stepped around the other children and picked Hamish up.
Hamish wrapped his arms around John's neck and buried his face in John's shoulder.
"It's alright, Hamish." John soothed and rubbed his son's back, carefully stepping back towards the door.
"I expect you back at school tomorrow, Mr Watson-Holmes." Hamish wasn't joking, that teacher was strict!
John and Sherlock turned to face the teacher and Hamish's body was shaking more.
"If he isn't feeling up for coming to school, then he will stay at home. He's only four!" John said.
"There's hardly anything wrong with him!" The teacher frowned.
"Not to you. But he's hurt himself and he's upset." Sherlock pointed out, took John's hand and led them out.
Hamish remained quietly crying all the way home until John sat him on his lap on the sofa and Sherlock knelt before him and rolled his trousers up to inspect the cuts.
Hamish was still crying and seemed beside himself.
The cuts had been cleaned and plasters were on them, but by the way that Hamish wasn't moving his knees too much showed that it was painful and not just a small cut.
"Really hurts!" Hamish proclaimed.
"It's alright, son. You're going to be fine." John said.
"But it hurts, daddy!" Hamish said hysterically.
After about five minutes Lestrade called and told them that they needed to sign some reports at the yard.
"Maybe it'll take his mind off of it." John suggested as he and Sherlock discussed whether they should go or not in the kitchen while their son sat watching some cbeebies, sucking his thumb and looking very sorry for himself.
"Well we won't be there long, it isn't a case. And he said he wanted to see Lestrade soon anyway." Sherlock added.
Hamish was miserable for the whole journey, complaining about his knees and letting out a few tears whenever the cab jostled them.
Sherlock carried his four year old into Scotland yard and went up to the main room which Lestrade and his team were completing paper work in.
They walked in and Lestrade looked up.
"Hey, I though Hamish would be at school?" Lestrade frowned as Sherlock and John took some seats at the table and Hamish sat on Sherlock's lap.
"He fell over and scraped his knees." Sherlock stated.
"They wouldn't send someone home for that, would they?" Anderson asked.
"Don't talk Anderson, you lower the IQ of everyone in this building." Sherlock said.
"He's only four. And he was quite distressed because we weren't around. So it was best he came home." John explained.
"Really hurts!" Hamish sniffed, talking to Lestrade.
"Oh, dear! Well you'll have to be a very brave boy then, won't you?" Lestrade said kindly.
"I don't think I'm that brave." Hamish said shyly.
"Well, I think you are very brave! In time you will come to see just how much." Lestrade smiled and returned to his paperwork while John and Sherlock started to fill in forms too.
"Dadda… what's a crime of passion?" Hamish asked curiously.
"Well, it's when somebody commits a crime because they're very emotional and have a lot of feelings that induce somebody to commit that crime." Sherlock explained.
"Like… when daddy-"Sherlock put a hand to Hamish's mouth to stop him talking and revealing something that could probably land John in jail.
"Like for example, if Lestrade cheated on my brother, which I know he hasn't, then I might get really upset and hurt him." Sherlock improvised.
"Oh… okay… but Uncle Greg hasn't cheated on Uncle My?" Hamish checked.
"No he hasn't." John said firmly, making sure Hamish didn't lose faith in his Uncle.
"So… would a crime of passion be like… if somebody hurt me then you would hurt them?" Hamish asked.
"Oh, I wouldn't just hurt them. They'd be dead." John stated.
"But what if you didn't have a gun or a weapon?" Hamish asked.
"I'm a soldier. I've been trained. I can kill a man with my bare hands very easily." John said, ticking a box on the report. They had everyone's attention.
"Oh." Hamish said.
John looked at his son and said "Does that scare you?"
"No. I know you wouldn't hurt anybody unless you had to." Hamish proclaimed.
John smiled.
