John sighed and wished his leg didn't hurt so he could pick up Sherlock. The three year old was pouting, and sending glares over at the girl that Mycroft was playing with. He leaned over to run his hands through Sherlock's hair as a man came over to him. "Is that your son?" he asked, pointing at Mycroft.
John blinked and stood up straight. "Yes. Did he do something?"
The man shook his head. "No! No, it's just he and Jane seem to be getting on so well, I was thinking we could do a play date." He held out his hand, "I'm Will. Dimmock. I work with Lestrade."
John smiled, relaxing and took Will's hand, shaking it. "Your daughter's name is Jane? I don't think that's what she told Mycroft." Will was attractive, not stunningly so, but that sort of beauty always intimidated John. The man also seemed nice. If John didn't already have Sarah, he might have tried to make a move of him.
Will chuckled. "No, she never does tell anyone that. She doesn't like her name. I would let her change it, but that's what her mother wanted her to be named, so…" Will sighed, watching the two kids play.
John frowned. "Your wife, did she…?"
Will looked over at him, confusion fluttering over his face for a moment. "What? I don't- Oh! Oh, no, I don't have a wife. I adopted Jane; she's my sister's kid. My sister didn't want her and I've always wanted kids, but…"
John nodded, ruffling Sherlock's hair again. "No one to have them with? I know how that is."
Will looked over at John and shook his head. "No, I don't have anyone to have them with. How about your kids? Where's their mother?"
Sherlock clung to John's leg, watching Will silently as John straightened. "I wouldn't know. They're orphans; I'm adopting them."
Will nodded, watching John's face. "So, are you-"
"He's got a girfwiend," Sherlock interrupted, "My said that he did. My says that means that no one ese can have him, evwen if someone ese wants him. So you don't get him."
John turned bright red. "Sherlock, first of all, don't interrupt adults, and second, I'm sure that Mr. Dimmock has no interest in me that way, right?" John looked up at Will, who was blushing faintly and not looking John in the eyes. John flushed even redder and turned back to Sherlock. "Either way, you shouldn't say things like that, Sherlock."
Sherlock pouted and held his hands to be picked up. John sighed and sat down in a nearby empty seat, putting the cane down and picking up the small boy. Sherlock leaned against John's chest, still watching Mycroft and the girl.
Will sat down nearby. "Sorry," he apologized, "That was inappropriate-"
John shook his head, blushing again, "Don't worry about it. While I'm flattered by your interest, as Sherlock said, I do have a girlfriend…" John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair and looked down at the child as he stated simply, "I would probably have asked you out for drinks myself if I didn't."
Will nodded, a smile coming back to his face. "I understand how that is."
Sherlock crawled out of John's lap and walked over to Will, holding his arms up to be picked up. Will chuckled and picked the three year old up. Sherlock snuggled against the man and closed his eyes. John smiled. "You're lucky. You got the Sherlock seal of approval. I haven't seen anyone able to pick up Sherlock other than Mycroft and I. Not even Mrs. Hudson, and Sherlock adores her."
Sherlock didn't move, obviously tired. John shook his head. "It is close to his bedtime. Although he won't want to fall asleep without his story…" Sherlock cracked open an eye at the word 'story' as John started going through his back and pulling out Gray's Anatomy.
Sherlock sat up, and Will scooted his chair right up against John's. The Detective raised an eyebrow at the book choice, but said nothing. Sherlock leaned back against Will as John began to read from where they had left off.
"The Oblique Vein of the Left Atrium is a small vessel which descends obliquely on the back of the left atrium and ends in the coronary sinus near its left extremity…"
Sherlock soon fell asleep. Greg let them put the small boy in a guest room.
A few hours later, Mycroft and Jane/Anthea joined the three year old.
The next morning, while gathering up their kids after having helped Lestrade pick up from the last night, neither of the two parents mentioned the drunk kiss they had shared.
The waiting room in the children's section of the hospital was loud. Sherlock was not happy to be there. He wanted John! John had vanished into one of the other rooms. John had left the boring lady at the desk in charge, but she had just told them to be quiet and gave them a lollipop. Sherlock sat quietly in Mycroft's lap and sucked on his lollipop, but he was not happy. He glared at the stupid, sick children. Mycroft wasn't paying attention. He was probably thinking about that stupid girl that had taken Mycroft away to play with her without Sherlock.
Sherlock crawled out of Mycroft's lap, who glanced at him and told him to go play with the toys before not paying attention again. Sherlock glared at the toys that the other kids were playing with. He wanted John! He wanted John to come and read his book to him.
Sherlock glanced over at Mycroft, who was still thinking about that girl, and walked over to the desk. The boring lady gave Sherlock another lollipop and shooed him off. Sherlock stuck it in his mouth and walked out into the hallway that John had left in. Sherlock looked around, trying to figure out what room John had gone into.
Sherlock weaved through the legs of nurses and doctors, who didn't give him a second thought. He had just turned a corner when hands grabbed him from underneath his arms and picked him up. They were a lady's hands; they weren't big enough to be a boy's.
Sherlock squirmed and started to cry. The lady turned him around in her arms and Sherlock recognized the girl from a picture that John had.
"Whose kid are you?" the lady asked. Sherlock squirmed more.
"I want John!" he declared, starting to kick. The lady just held him tighter.
"Alright, I'll take you to John." The lady carried him down hallways, turning this way and that, and opened a door. John was looking down the throat a little boy with short brown hair.
"John, is this one of yours?" The lady didn't like Sherlock. Sherlock could hear it in her voice. Sherlock started to kick again, holding his arms out to John.
"John!" he whined.
"He was wandering the halls," the lady explained, still not putting Sherlock down. John sighed and stood up, limping over and taking Sherlock from the lady.
"Thank you, Sarah. I'll make sure he doesn't anymore."
Sarah nodded, and Sherlock stuck his tongue out at her. He didn't like her either! John sighed and closed the door again and put Sherlock down in a chair.
"Sit."
Sherlock swung his feet. They didn't touch the floor. John turned back to the boy.
"Alright, Sebastian, you can get down now. Mrs. Wilkes, I believe he has a mild case of strep throat. We'll have to wait until tomorrow to be sure, though. Just make sure he rests and drinks a lot of water. I'll call you tomorrow."
The boy, Sebastian, hoped off the table and went over to his mother, who was nodding. Sherlock stared at him. The boy was older than him, but not by much.
"If he needs to west, he shouwdn't be wunning though the stweets in his schoo outfit," Sherlock said, still kicking his feet. Sebastian had mud on the bottom of shoes, which had colors that matched the school uniform he was wearing.
Everyone turned to look at Sherlock, who blinked at them. Couldn't they tell that he had been running through the mud? Sebastian and his mother looked angry at him, and John looked tired.
"You've been running through the streets in your school uniform?" Sebastian's mother asked her son angrily as she stood up. Sebastian paled.
"No! I wasn't!"
Sebastian glared at Sherlock as he was pulled out of the room, his mother lecturing him.
John sighed and got up, picking up Sherlock.
"Please don't say things like that when Sarah comes over for dinner tonight. We want her to like you. She doesn't want kids, and we have to convince her otherwise."
Sherlock leaned against John. "Wead me my book?"
John chuckled and left the room, taking Sherlock back to the waiting room. "I will read your book to you if you promise to stay with Mycroft in the waiting room until I come to get you. Okay?"
Sherlock nodded as John put him down next to Mycroft, who was promising to keep a better eye on him. John ruffled Mycroft's hair and kissed Sherlock's forehead before leaving again.
Sherlock sat down next to Mycroft and watched the sick kids play.