AN: To be continued in a further chapter. Also, I want to a Christmas chapter, I could either write it soon, or post it closer the actual time. Which would you prefer?
John's birthday. His present is usually hard, he can mostly predict things or will leave a list (which I never follow) of hints. He asks for items that are boring, and John isn't boring, these aren't what he wants, rather things he needs, so I always look for something else. This year, I'm letting Hamish choose his own present for his Dad, which means I have to take him shopping.
"Hamish, remember, we can't tell Dad where we went today." I hold his coat out and he puts his arms through, then turns around and focuses on fastening his zip.
He gets the zip done on his seventh try; he's getting a lot better at persevering with that. "Why? He asks me."
"Just say we stayed at home, watched TV." I take his hand and we walk out of the door.
"Didn't though." Hamish follows me down the stairs, holding on carefully, these are still too steep for him to get down properly.
"I know, but this is better. We want to surprise him."
"It's lying." Hamish whispers, as if he's afraid of anyone else hearing him.
"It's for the best, therefore it's allowed." I explain, then think better of it "But don't lie to me or Dad, unless we say it's okay." Hamish is at the bottom of the stairs and runs to the door.
"What?"
"It doesn't matter, just tell Dad we were at home." I relent and Hamish still looks worried but seems to agree. We find a taxi and get to the high street.
"What do you want to get Dad then, Hai?"
"Uh…game. He likes snakes." (and ladders, he means) Hamish loved that game, and after I'd gotten bored based on one roll of the die, he had had to play it countless times with Hamish.
"You like that, and we already have it. He won't want other toys either." I add as Hamish looks into the window of the Disney Store.
"I…uhm. Tea." I laugh at this and Hamish looks confused.
"Yes, he does love that. We'll look shall we?" I take him a little up the street, and into a Marks and Spencer's. Hopefully, they'll have some kind of teapot set, or just a lot of different teas, it's a little gift and John will love that Hamish came up with it, plus I'll get Hamish to make him something later. That's usually his favourite kind of present.
In the shop, Hamish is quickly distracted by all of the cakes and some magazines in there. "Hamish, come on, put it down." I take the bar of chocolate away and her frowns "Don't start."
"I want it." He says quietly. Then louder "Chocolate!" He takes another from the shelf, and I take that then move him away.
"Stop it. Be good."
"Chocolate!" Hamish whines loudly, still trying to reach. He stamps his foot "Now!"
I pick him up, before he even starts to throw himself on the floor in a tantrum. "Don't you dare, I don't care what you do, you're not getting that."
"Fa. Please!" Hamish starts crying, full on tantrum mode now, he hits out at me.
"Fine. We'll go home, and Dad will have to miss out on his presents." This should work, I don't want to make him feel bad like that but it's really the only way to get everything over with today. A woman across the isle stares "If you'd used discipline at all, maybe your daughter wouldn't be in prison right now." She scuttles off, scared.
Hamish is quiet "I-I want Dada to have things."
"So you'll be good?" Hamish nods, but doesn't try to get down when I expect. "Aren't you walking?" Hamish puts his head against my shoulder and rubs his eyes.
"Tired." Hamish is light, but still a little awkward to carry as soon as we get back, so I deliberate putting him down, but then he cuddles into me more, and I like this too much. He hasn't slept in the last few nights, we've had a case and he's usually really bad if he's sleeping away (A night with Mycroft -poor child, and four where Mrs Hudson had slept in our apartment with him, then the nights when John and I were actually there, we try to be quiet but he never seems to calm properly when we're both awake all night). "We won't be out long. Look, they have tea things over there. You should get the tartan."
"What?" Hamish asks as I pick up a box. A mug, tea leaves, a tea strainer, sugar, shortbread and a small tea spoon with a coat of arms.
"Tartan. This pattern." I point to the tin. "It's Scottish. Or maybe the black with the flask. You choose." Hamish gets down, looking at the boxes on the bottom shelf. Hamish looks at all the little boxes on the shelf carefully, then picks up a black one. It has more biscuits in, a flask and John's favourite tea, he must have recognised it. "That it?"
"Will he like it " Hamish passes the box to me and puts his arms out to be picked up again.
"Carry it if I'm picking you up. And he will, especially because you go it for him specially." Hamish smiles and then yawns. "Do you want to go have something to eat after this? Or shall I be quick and you can go home and nap?"
"Too big for naps." Hamish says, sitting up rather than leaning against me and looking around "What food?"
"Sandwiches. You might get a bun too, if you're good." I say, then pay and we go the café on the second floor. All Marks and Spencer's have their own cafes and unlike most shops like this, they actually serve good coffee there.
"Please." Hamish says, he seems to have latched on to the manners-get-you-what-you-want thing very quickly, mostly we don't even need to remind him.
"But what about when you didn't get your chocolate? Are you sorry for shouting?" He probably isn't really, but this is one of the best ways to work with him, so he doesn't misbehave again.
"I won't do it again." Hamish mumbles, looking away. He seemed ashamed that I'd had to bring it up again.
"Alright then, what is it you want?" I ask, and we stand in the queue and Hamish looks through the glass of the stand and picks out a brownie. I add a cup of coffee and toastie and we sit down. We have to wait for the toastie and Hamish is already picking at the cake, so I move it away. "You won't eat your lunch."
"Will." Hamish protests, but I take out a notepad and a pen and get him to draw, a distraction.
"Something beginning with 'A', Hamish." The latest homework he'd been given was tracing letters of the alphabet with their pictures, each letter would have a certain image and this was mostly a task for his memory, not as much for the spelling.
Hamish picks up the pen and sticks his tongue out a little in concentration. "Apple, Hai?" I ask without looking.
"No." He says with a little annoyance, holding up the picture. Not an apple, then. "Look."
"Ant? Good Hamish, you didn't even use the most predictable one." We go through the alphabet, getting to E before Hamish's food comes, "Draw me something with F while it cools, or you'll burn yourself." When he's done that, and finished the sandwich and got me to but the uneaten part of the brownie into the carrier bag.
"So, we're just going to go into BHS, he should have a new jumper, then I'm getting the customised laptop." So, the jumper John's going to be fine with, he pretty much expects that. I'm sure he won't like the fact that I bought a laptop however, he'll claim it's 'too extravagant', but he should really have a new one. His current one is at least 3 years out of date, and that irritates me, plus he should really have something new like that.
"How long?" Hamish asks, he jumps off his chair and takes my hand, not even needing to be prompted to stay close like that.
"Look at him, Hai." I point out an extremely overweight man crossing in front of as we head out of the store. "He's a teacher, but he used to be in the circus. He was the ringmaster."
"Can I go?"
"To the circus? We'll look for one. A proper one with a big top and everything if that's what you want. Dad would love to take you."
"You?" Hamish asks, swinging his arm.
"Nah, I don't like it."
"Why?" a woman with a pram almost walks into Hamish, so I tell her boyfriend that she's pregnant again, and its likely not to be his child.
"Too noisy, lots of people."
We're in BHS now, and I've already seen the jumper I plan to buy, so we're in and out of the shop quickly (with a brief stop when Hamish spots some giant teddies, then a few things that they've already brought in for a Christmas section).
"Where now?" Hamish asks, he doesn't seem to have taken account at all that's he's walking now, obviously not as tired as he was before.
"Computer shop." It's not one of the bigger, well known computer stores, they wouldn't do the customisation, so we go down a backstreet and come out into a small square of shops, a space about a hundred times quitter than the main street. I pull Hamish into the store; he'd stopped outside another shop-a pagan store. It had purple velvet in the window, wind chimes, and incense (with smoke coming from it) in the window.
"Come on." Hamish is still staring into the window as we walk away. He seems completely fascinated by the whole thing.
In fact, he's still peering around as we get through the door of the computer shop. "Watch where you're going, Hamish." I say, there's a step here and he's likely to trip. "Hi. Sherlock Holmes-Watson, I believe you have something for me to pick up?" I ask the college student at the counter.
"Yes, sir. Here." He bends down under the counter and brings out a large box, then undoes it. "I hope it's to your liking." I quickly check on the laptop, find it to be almost perfect, then shut the box again.
"Good enough." I say, then take out the card to pay. Hamish has let go of my hand by now, and is investigating some of the other computers in the shop "And the money knocked off, for helping with your boss' grandmother." I add, as he types in some code. He nods and then puts the laptop and receipt in a bag. "Thanks. We're leaving, Hamish." I wait for him at the end of the short isle and he runs up, grinning. "Home?"
"Yep." I take his hand again and we walk out.
***
John never even noticed the presents, and I didn't even hide them that well. But that was a good thing; it meant that he would be completely surprised this morning. John is still sleeping, but Hamish will be awake soon and he was excited about today last night, so he'll be down soon. I lean over and kiss him, and he opens his eyes, an arm immediately going around my neck. "Happy Birthday, love." John smiles and kisses me again.
"Good morning." He says, smiling.
"Do you want your presents now, or later?"
"When Hai is with us." John says, with another small kiss.
"I can't give you everything in front of him. Inappropriate, you'd say." (this present wasn't with the others, that would be too close to Hamish, it was in our room).
"Sherlock…" John sighs, laughing a little. "Alright, we'll do that tonight. I can hear him moving about." John says, as we hear Hamish's feet on the stairs, then he bursts through the door. I roll away from John, and he jumps onto the bed between us.
"Birthday Dadda!" Hamish yells, and John hugs him.
"Thank you." He kisses him then Hamish turns to me.
"Where's presents?"
"I'll get them, you talk to Dad. Did you bring the card down?" Hamish reaches behind him form where he'd dumped the handmade card on the bed, then presents it to John.
I grin then walk out of the room, going up to Hamish's and taking the presents from the hole in the wall I'd made when teaching Hamish about piping-I really needed a way to demonstrate and this was the most visual (John still doesn't know about that, I moved the wardrobe).
I'd wrapped everything last night, and I run back down "Here." I pass a gift to Hamish and he hands it to John. "I got it." John takes the gift and looks up at me,
"He's right. He chose it, it was all his idea." I clarify, and John pulls Hamish onto his lap, unwrapping the present in front of both of them.
"Oh Hai. I live it, you thought of tea all by yourself? Thank you." He kisses Hamish's cheek and tickles him, Hamish's high giggle punctuating the whole flat.
"Fa's presents." Hamish says, and grabs at my hand when John releases him from another hug "Dada." Hamish moans, laughing.
"It's my birthday, I get any hugs I want." John pulls him back again, Hamish has been about to take the bag form my hand
"Stop!" Hamish squeals, and John finally takes the presents from my hand
"Why are you still stood up? Come here." John grabs my arm and pulls me onto the bed.
"Open it then!" I'm getting impatient now, worse than all the time I've been waiting since I bought it. He'll love it, but I want to see the look on his face. Imagining it is never enough.
I hand him the laptop first, and place a hand on his knee. He rips the paper, and gasps, looking at the box. "Sherlock, you…it's so expensive….you really shou- It's just the one I wanted. I love it." He turns, pulling my head down to his, kissing me. "It's fantastic, but you spen-"
"Hush." I cut him off, placing the box back on his lap "Open it properly." I pass John the scissors from the bedside table (I'd prepared that earlier) and he opens the box.
"Why…" he pulls at the polystyrene, then gets to the laptop, "Oh my god. Sherlock you…this is…I-Oh..this."
John pulls the laptop fully out, stroking over the top. Inlaid into the back of the screen, there are pictures, hundreds of them, tiny things. They're in chronological order, John and his family from his childhood, his graduation from university and then medical school, to his time in the army (I love those, John in his full fatigues then dress uniform), then us, candid shots, some posed, our wedding photo, then Hamish-some of him alone, some of us all together, right from his birth up until now.
I didn't even think he would like it this much, it was so close to something I'd given him a few years ago, thing was really the laptop, this was just so it was personalised. "Thank you, love. So much." He props the laptop on the box and hugs me tightly. Hamish kneels up, examining it.
"Solider Dada." Hamish says proudly, pointing to a picture.
"You want to hear some stories? I'll open this and we'll do that."
"Yes. And baby Dada." He adds, looking at the pictures above.