Sherlock's Covert Mission
Genre: Family; Friendship; Mild romance
Pairings: Sherlock and Sally; Greg and Molly mentioned
Main characters: Sherlock, Sally, McTavish family mentioned
Sally Donovan-Holmes breathed in the air deeply, letting it settle into the very deepest depths of her lungs, and letting it reach where her spirit dwelled.
"Mmmm, tell me again Git, why we're here?|
Sherlock said nothing for several moments, as he clutched her hand and they walked side-by-side on the reddish-brown sand of the beach the Lestrades had highly recommended for a Western Canadian vacation.
"Blame Greg and Molly. They said it was marvellous. Now that we're actually here, however, I must say…"
"They were right. Oh Git… we've had such a month of it. Those poor missing babies, and that gran who was…"
Sherlock shushed his wife with a squeeze to her shoulders, as he moved his arm up to draw her closer. "Hush now, Old Plod. Greg was well aware of all of that, as am I. That's why they booked us on the first flight out of London to this glorious place of solitude. So we could recharge without life interfering."
Sally smiled to herself, as she wrapped her arm around her husband just bit tighter. "I wonder how Michael and Grace are faring with the McTavish family…"
"They're perfectly fine, Sally," Sherlock insisted with a smile. He paused their walk, turning to her. "You worry too much, Old Plod," he said, as he leaned down to kiss her lightly. "We're here to RELAX, remember? And besides, I'm also here on a covert mission…"
"Oh?" Sally giggled, her mood beginning to relax noticeably. "And what's that?"
"I'm… observing Sherla's future husband. Samuel McTavish has… INTENTIONS towards my niece, and I intend to discover just what they are."
"SHERLOCK," Sally scolded. "you mean, you're stalking him, spying on him. Oh, you bloody Git, they're CHILDREN. Sam has no more intention right now towards Greer than Daniel Watson has towards Grace."
"Oh, a very POOR example, my love. Daniel most assuredly has intentions towards our daughter. There may not be any tangible evidence of yet, but mark my words, there will be. Just as Samuel has intentions towards Sherla."
"And do you object to either?" Sally asked, as she yanked his arm to get him moving again. The concession booth was now within eyeshot and Sally had a mad craving all of a sudden for a soft-serve ice cream cone with butter pecan dip. Sally's quarry was within eyeshot and she was on the scent…
"No, if I'm honest. Both with have nothing but HONOURABLE intentions, of that I'm quite sure. No, my concern is merely… knee-jerk, I suppose. Samuel is a good boy, a respectful one. Just as Daniel is, and they will both grow to be gentlemen. Oh, my Old Plod… I suppose I'm just being a ridiculous old man…" he trailed off, almost sheepishly.
"Bollocks. You're a dad, and a damned good one, and nobody can fault you for your concern. Actually… it's incredibly charming and attractive. Now, do we want our ice cream on the deck of the concession booth, or on the beach?"
"Neither," Sherlock said, with a wink. "I believe we may consume our treats on a short stroll towards the mini-golf course. I intend to make you beg for mercy on the seventh hole."
"Oh, is that RIGHT, then is it?" Sally laughed. "Seems to me the fifth hole is your Achilles heel, Git. We'll just SEE then who begs for mercy…"