Hello again. It's been a while and I'm sorry. I'm in the middle of raising some of my grades and have put a lot of time and energy on "Hamish, the invisible boy" and I hope you can forgive me!
The next day Hamish woke up at a respectable time. The sugar in all the cakes and candy had turned him into a hurricane of energy and he'd ran around the flat, played with lego, shown the small melodies he'd learned on the piano and eaten more candy. As the clock struck nine and only Greg and Molly was left in the flat with the family, Hamish had collapsed in his uncle lap with the sonogram picture plastered to his cheek and chocolate staining his lips. Then he'd slept through all night until nine the next day.
But this day would be just as energetic as the last. He was head over heals the moment he sat down by the table and John remembered him about the girl who today would come to visit. The boy quickly forgot about breakfast and just stared at his daddy for a long second. There was something that bothered him, he didn't understand what his fathers meant when they said that he would be able to feel the baby but not see it. Even if John had explained that the baby was hiding inside their help-mommy, would they be able to find it just like they found him during hide and seek? It didn't make any sense.
And John found it hard to explain, Hamish didn't understand the human anatomy and he was too young to have it explained. Also he'd never been in a close relationship with a woman except mrs Hudson and she was to old and conservative of her 'time of life'. Hamish wouldn't understand the heterosexual relationships until he himself was old enough to discover his own orientation. The boy was wonderfully oblivious of the world, not unintelligent, and he needed everything explained to him on a very basic level at this age.
"The bean me and dad planted needs to grow for nine months in the help-mommy's tummy. And right now the baby is kicking and moving inside her. We won't be able to see it, but we'll be able to feel it." Hamish tilted his head and looked at John with intense blue-green eyes, nibbled his bottom lip and nodded. Then he blinked and lowered his gaze to his buttered toast.
"Do I need to talk to her?" he asked with a very small voice that John hadn't heard since they fetched the piano at Angelo's and he gave his son a comforting smile.
"You don't need to. But if you want to talk to your brother or sister, maybe we can ask her to cover her ears. Is that okay?" The boy wrinkled his nose at those words and shook his head.
"That's mean." he told him strictly and John felt his eyebrows disappear under his hairline.
"I think she'll understand." he said but Hamish shook his head.
"It's very rude." he said and folded up his softened toast and took a big bite.
Three hours later Hamish was all excited again, hunched over the side table practising to write a thank-you-note on his painting to the nice lady who was currently carrying his sister or brother. He still didn't know exactly how it worked or what to expect but he did know that it would be impossible without her help, he would probably never be more grateful to anyone.
John leaned over him as he furiously scratched the blue pen back and forth over the paper to create a sky behind the many birds and his father frowned when he saw something that might not belong in the picture.
"What's that?" he asked and pointed to the grey and red lump under the majestic tree. Hamish turned in his chair and glared at him with blue-green eyes, huffed a little laugh as he judged him for his stupidity.
"A body, of course." he said and grasped for the red pen to add more blood to the lump. "D'you want to hear how he died?"
"Um?" John began and suddenly forgot about the cuppa in his hand, almost mortified when Hamish started adding blooded footprints on the green grass leading away from the victim. "Love. I don't..." He couldn't bare to say the words that this might not be an appropriate gift for the woman. Hamish had obviously put down a lot of work in this picture. "I think dad would be more happy to be honest. It's been a long time since you painted him a picture." The boy frowned and turned his head again.
"But this is for the help-mommy." he insisted. "Not for dad."
"Yes, I know." John murmured and couldn't help his lips pursing by the thought how Lynn would react to this. At least she knew what the fathers were working with, maybe she would understand. "I just thought it was to beautiful to give away but if you really want to then who am I to say no?" His son gave him a thin smile that was taught by his dad and John placed a hand on his head and made a mess of his hair. "She'll be here any minute now so you better hurry up. I don't see a sun anywhere on that masterpiece of yours."
A small giggle was heard from the boy as John turned to the counter and plated the biscuits and cakes. The tea was already brewing and lemonade had been made after Hamish's orders. It need mild, very mild, closer to the taste of water than sweet lemonade and John had never understood how he could drink that but distaste the taste of flavoured water from a bottle.
"Can I have a biscuit?" Hamish asked as the plastic container rustled.
"Not until Lynn's here." John answered and turned his head to the bedroom. "Sherlock! What are you doing?"
"Shaving!" Sherlock called back when the bell gave a sudden ring and Hamish jumped where he sat.
"She's here!" he called out and jumped down on the floor with the picture in his hands, running off to get his dad'd opinion on his art before giving it away. Soon John heard jolly voices down the stairs and mrs Hudson laughed loudly as Lynn joked playfully about her bump and John started to feel nervous. Compulsively he started to clean up the last of the things in the kitchen and sitting room and was nearly short of breath as he heard the two ladies climb the stairs.
"Ho-ho?" mrs Hudson called as she knocked the wall and John took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. The old woman stepped inside followed by the much younger and beautiful girl with hands resting on her big bump.
"Hellu." Lynn giggled and waddled to meet him in the middle of the room and shake his hand firmly. "Nice to see you again, it's been a while."
"Yes, yes." John smiled nervously and his gaze fell to her stomach where his child was currently resting. "How are you? How's the... um?"
"Oh! Bump's fine." she laughed and rubbed her waist. "It's kicking away and making barrel rolls every ten minutes. It's an active one, I must say." She stretched her back with a big sigh and her dark long hair fell over his shoulder. "And I'm fine. Glowing, my friends tell me." John grinned and had to agree. Just like Harry when she was in this stage her lips were naturally red, hair thick and healthy and eyes glittering. John almost forgot to show some hospitality as his mind was roamed by the future resting in her abdomen, but mrs Hudson was alway kind to remind him.
"Why don't you take her coat, John, and I'll set the table." John didn't have time before Sherlock appeared our of nowhere and grasped her coat by the shoulder and helped her out of it.
"Oh, thank you. Hello Sherlock." she smiled and looked over her shoulder.
"I see everything is in order with your condition." he said simply and hanged her clothes on one of the hooks on the wall and the girl frowned by his choose of words.
"Yes, everything is as it should be." she said and noticed the little boy hiding behind the corner in the kitchen. "Hello." she smiled and tilted her head while looking as friendly as she possible could. "You must be Hamish." The boy found some courage and took a step out in the room with his picture in his hand. "Oh my? Are you sure you're just five? You look at least like seven."
To John surprise she actually managed to bring a smile to Hamish's lips by those words, not many strangers were able to do that on the first meeting. And Hamish was prepared to mirror her friendliness by reaching out his hand with the paper.
"Is that for me?" she asked and took a step closer, the boy nodded frantically and bowed his head as she kneeled before him with much effort. "Oh, jesus. I'm way to big for this." she groaned and Hamish grinned and put the picture in her hand. Her face lit up by the sight and she gasped loudly. "Look at that! Did you do this?" He nodded shyly and tossed a glance at Sherlock who gnashed his teeth were he stood. It was still hard for him to have unknown people in his flat but this time he really tried, and he managed without saying anything hurtful or mean. After all, this woman was carrying his future son or daughter, he couldn't act gruesome to her. And the faces she brought out in Hamish was just wonderful.
"Is that a body?" she asked suddenly and pointed at the grey and red lump under the tree. Hamish nodded and Lynn gasped happily. "Wicked! And where's the murderer then? Where did he go?" Her finger followed the blooded footsteps and Hamish opened his mouth but closed it quickly again. Not ready quite yet.
They gathered around around the table and Lynn chewed biscuit after biscuit with great hunger that John started to wonder if they should have invited her for dinner instead. Hamish was crawled up in John's lap, sipping his lemonade and stole another cake when he thought no one was looking until Sherlock had to snatch them back before he ate too many.
"These are great biscuits." Lynn smiled and she swallowed her seventh one. "Where d'you get them?"
"Oh, just around the corner, dear." Mrs Hudson smiled and pushed the tray a little closer to her. "They're Hamish's favourite too. Aren't they?" The boy looked at Lynn and nodded with a weak smile, glancing at her big bump that kept her rather far away from the table. The woman smiled right back at him and cleared her throat.
"D'you wanna feel the little one kick, Hamish?" she asked and the boy stiffened in John's lap, quickly lowering his gaze and felt his cheek go red. He did want to feel but was way to shy to confess such a thing. But John rubbed his arm and hummed questioningly as he kissed his temple.
"What d'you say, handsome?" he asked and ran his hand through his hair. Hamish turned in his arms and gripped on tight to his shirt, not planning to let go anytime soon. But he still nodded, a shy little nod while nibbling his bottom lip, but he was not doing it alone. To his relief John held on to him just a tight as he stood up and walked around the table to sit down beside Lynn who pushed herself back in the chair. Hamish blinked and swallowed nervously as she reached out her hand.
"May I?" she asked and the boy hesitated for a few seconds before taking it. Slowly she led him to her bump and pressed his palm to the side of her big bump and the room fell into dead silence. Sherlock watched the scene in secret aw, even if he didn't find any sort of interest in feeling his unborn child it was a proud moment to see Hamish being so willing to do so. It was also a very warm feeling so see his husband staring so lovingly at the bump while holding their son. Sherlock had never really been there when Harry was expecting, to much fear was keeping him back from visiting her but this time he knew what to expect. In his own defence every man was frightened by the first child and becoming a father but he was fairly certain that what he suffered through those months was hard to beat.
But this time it was different, their second child was now growing inside the young woman and this time he just felt eager to see his daughter or son. But even more eager to see Hamish's reactions and how he would act around a newborn. It would be very exciting the upcoming months indeed.
Suddenly Hamish gave a small gasp and pressed his hand a little harder to the woman's skin. A tiny prod hit his right in a palm quickly followed by another and another and John smiled with his cheek pressed to his son's temple.
"Did it kick?" he asked and Hamish nodded while staring with big eyes on the bump.
"If we tease it a little it might just turn." Lynn smiled and pressed hard fingers to her bump, encouraging the baby to move. Not before long it made a barrel roll inside her and she giggled when she saw Hamish twitch on John's lap. "Did you feel that?" Hamish nodded and she moved his hand over the bump. "Here's the head." she explained happily and the boy pressed to the hard globe inside her. Then she moved his hand to the area under her left breast where he felt the familiar feeling of two feet and he smiled happily as it continued to kick. "It likes attention." she smiled and rubbed her side. "Kicking and moving all night and sleeps during the day."
"It's like a teenager already." Mrs Hudson giggled and Lynn laughed at that.
"I hope not." she beamed and took a deep breath as the baby turned a second time. "I don't think I could take loud music and domestic right now."
Sherlock responded to that with an annoyed groan and John shot him a warning look. He silenced himself quickly and returned to his tea with a tired sigh.
"You can feel too, John." Lynn smiled and ignored Sherlock, she'd been warned before she went into this and seemed like a woman who didn't react to such things. She actually handled Sherlock pretty good for being an "ordinary" human. "It's your baby after all." John smiled and joined Hamish's little hand in the bump. The foetus greeted him whit a hard kick and the doctor lit up like a lighthouse as he felt it.
"Well, hello baby." he smiled and rubbed the little foot. "There you are."
Sherlock stared, still didn't understand this interaction between unborn and old and probably never would. How could something that did not quite exist have such a captivating ability on someone?
"How about you, Sherlock?" Lynn asked and he woke up from his pondering about human interactions with a hitch in his breath. "D'you wanna feel?"
"Um.. no." he said with a small voice that made John break his gaze with the bump and stare at him in confusion. That was a real stutter, not a fake one to show the mean irony that John was used to. Sherlock was actually on edge while thinking about their unborn child.
"C'mon Sherlock." he smiled, wanting him to at least feel this baby kick since he never even glanced at Harry's bump while expecting Hamish. "This might be the last baby we're having."
The detective swallowed with a dry throat and fidgeted on his chair, not really sure how to handle this situation.
"It's not going to bite." Lynn joked while fluttering her lashes as she was punched in the lung by a small fist.
"Go on, Sherlock." Mrs Hudson pushed and moved from her chair to leave him some room.
"No, I'm..." he started but Mrs Hudson didn't want to hear it.
"Now come here young man. This is your baby and you'll regret it for life if you don't put your hand on that bump right now!" Both Sherlock, John and Hamish stared at her big eyed and terrified. That woman had clearly had enough of the detective's modesty and was ready to force him to make contact with his unborn child. Lynn on the other hand just giggled, a little shocked by the sudden outbursts but looked somewhat comfortable with the scolding. As if John could read her mind she didn't feel confident to give this baby to a father that didn't seem to care, even if she had to.
"Sherlock." he murmured to his husband and nodded to the empty chair.
The detective swallowed the lump that had stuck in his throat and stood up slowly, taking his time to round the table and sit down beside the very pregnant Lynn who offered her hand. With some seconds of hesitation he let himself up and Lynn pressed his hand to her tummy right beside Hamish's little hand that was still drumming its fingers to the skin. Then he waited, kept his gaze locked at his hand without feeling a thing.
He'd never felt a baby kick within someones abdomen before and his expectations where low. John had often spoken about the power behind an unborn child's kick and Sherlock had always rolled his eyes at his statements. What more could they be than just a prod to his palm? But nothing seemed to happen and Lynn started poking at her bump, teasing the foetus by pressing her fingers to its body at different places and Sherlock looked up behind thick eyelashes at John, giving him a annoyed look and John stared right back at him warningly.
Then it happened. A strong prod hit him right in his palm but it was more than that. He could feel the outline of the heal and toes and he swallowed the gasp that threatened to slip over his tightly shut lips. But he couldn't deny that John might have been right. There was some kind of strong power behind that kick, and the other, and then the other. A smile twitch the corner of his mouth and John saw it, beamed happily at him and Lynn started to relax in their presence as she saw the father of the child looking pleased.
"Did you feel that, Sherlock?" she asked with a small but happy voice and the detective looked very smug in his chair.
"I believe I did." he said and pressed his hand a little closer to the two feet that made the woman's stomach bulge alien like by each kick. By now Sherlock started to feel eager. He'd never been a patient man and long periods of waiting was one of his bigger enemies.
"So, have you planned any names?" Lynn asked softly and moved the detective's hand to a small elbow that pressed at her side.
"No, not yet." John answered and buried his nose in Hamish's hair to hide his ridiculous smile from her and Sherlock. "We have some in mind but nothing is really decided. But we're hoping for a girl." Hamish nodded in agreement and looked up at Lynn with dark eyes.
"There are too many boys living here." he whispered and Lynn bursted into a laughter.
"Is that so?" she asked and rubbed her back. "Well, I hope it comes true then. But another boy wouldn't make you disappointed, would it?" The boy pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side, thinking about it very thoroughly.
"I guess not." he said with a low voice and removed his hand from her stomach. "But I'm hoping for a sister."
It's almost baby-time again. Already working on the next chapter so bare with me! Meanwhile, leave a review and tell me what you think and if there's something you wish me to write about!