Beta-ed by: TheRimmerConnection
"Watcha got there, Mish?" Anderson watched Hamish fiddling with the toy microscope set Lestrade had given him. It was comical to watch his face turn to disgust upon realizing that the toy could not magnify cells.
Hamish scowled at him.
Don't call me Mish.
"Microscope."
"It's a cool one, eh? We have a lot of those here in the lab. Ours is just an itty-bitty more high tech than yours. Here, let me show you how to use it."
"He already knows how to use one, Anderson." Sherlock cut in. "Probably better than you. He's already memorised the different stages of mitosis and meiosis, and can identify which cells are in which stage. How long did it take for you to learn the stages?"
"Oh please, Sherlock, at least my father didn't force me to memorise the stages just so he can show me off" Anderson smirked at him
"And look how you turned out." Sherlock turned to look back at the sample in his petri dish. "Oh, and by the way, I don't force him to memorise anything. As you can see."
Anderson turned to see where Hamish had run off to, and sure enough, the boy was browsing Google, looking at the latest research on Down's syndrome.
Anderson observed how father and son looked so much alike. Sherlock and Hamish both had an almost thoughtful expression mixed with fierce concentration as they conducted their respective research.
"Dear?" A melodic voice called from outside.
Irene entered the room to find both father and son's eyes glued to their respective objects of interest.
"Anderson." She nodded at him "How are my two boys?" Sherlock rolled his eyes at Irene. Of course his wife would always find a way to irritate him.
"Sherlock is as annoying as ever, but Hamish is an absolute angel," Anderson replied.
As if Irene would ever take the time to consider your comments on us.
Hamish looked at Anderson with the utmost annoyance: he knew his mum was only asking the question of this horrifyingly dull man to annoy his father, but the nerve of Anderson, to think his opinion actually mattered.
Looking at his son, Sherlock smiled as he noticed Hamish's pure disgust for Anderson. Lestrade always swore that Sherlock passed on his dislike for Anderson to Hamish, but Sherlock knew exactly why...
~o~
"Dull. Duh-ull," Sherlock repeated to his seven-month-old boy.
"Dada and Mama are so commonly used these days, Hamish." Sherlock scrunched up his nose. "People might think you're ordinary like them. Now come on, say DUH-ull."
"Maaaaa..." The little boy, who was lying on his back, cooed.
"Dull. Like Anderson. Dull."
The baby laughed in delight, as if enjoying teasing his father.
"Ma!"
"Dull."
Ding!
Sherlock pulled his phone from his pocket, sighing.
There's been another one. Meet me at the morgue. -GL
Honestly, they couldn't even solve a simple case. Sherlock had easily proved that Hamish was already smarter than three-quarters of Lestrade's team.
Sherlock texted Irene to let her know.
Have fun -IA
"We're going to the morgue, Hamish."
Hamish smiled at the word 'morgue', as if he had been looking forward to going there for a long time.
Sherlock picked him up and grabbed the nappy bag along the way. He hurried down the stairs and called out to Mrs. Hudson to let her know that he and Hamish were going out for a stroll.
"Make sure you take his hat, dear!" Mrs. Hudson called back.
Hamish squealed sensing his daddy's radiating excitement.
He hailed a cab and hurriedly got in.
"St. Bart's Hospital," he told the cabbie and held Hamish closer to his chest.
"Now, Hamish, when we get there you are going to meet a lot of stupid people. The stupidest of them all is probably Anderson, although I doubt if he's going to be there. Probably all locked up in Scotland Yard, drowning in paperwork. Your Uncle Greg must have already texted Mummy, so she should be there by now. You get to see how Mummy and Daddy work."
The little boy gave his father a two-toothed grin before they got off at St. Bart's. Hamish kept bouncing in Sherlock's arms as they entered the building and walked towards the morgue.
Sherlock rolled his eyes as he saw Anderson and Donovan. What on earth were they doing here?
He walked up to Anderson and let Hamish face him.
"See that man, Hamish?" Sherlock pointed to Anderson. "He's the bloke I was talking about earlier. The stupid one."
"You do know that I can hear exactly what you're saying?" Anderson says, annoyed.
"You need to stay away from him. You might catch Anderson's highly contagious disease. Idiocy." He whispered the words to Hamish, but loudly enough for Anderson to hear.
Hamish whimpered as if understanding his father.
"Now hold on a minute—"
"Yes, it is very common in Lestrade's team, but Anderson is the most contagious of them all."
"Dear," Irene removed her surgical gloves as she greeted her husband with a kiss.
The Holmeses felt Anderson's gaze on them.
"Anything you'd like to add to my description of you, Anderson?" Sherlock asked, innocently.
"You were insulting me."
"I was describing you."
He was about to retort back, but seeing Irene's intimidating gaze, he gulped and said nothing.
"Excuse me," he said and sauntered off to find someone with whom he could gossip about the Holmeses.
To say the team was shocked about Sherlock's surprise marriage was an understatement. They had a civil marriage at which John and Mary served as witnesses. Nobody knew about their plan, not even John and Mary themselves until Sherlock dragged them both to the court and told them they'd be serving as witnesses on the way. In fact no one knew that Irene and Sherlock were a couple in the first place. So after their quickie marriage, everybody thought that Irene was pregnant, but rejected that theory after a few months.
Nobody expected that Sherlock Holmes, with his odd outlook, had the capacity to procreate with such a beautiful woman. Well, nobody thought he could be sexually intimate with anyone, period. Everybody had assumed he was asexual.
"Freak," Donovan greeted, "Why did you bring your barely-a-year-old son to meet a corpse? I won't be surprised if he turns out to be exactly like you someday."
"Ah, Donovan, what was it like being hit by Anderson's now ex-wife?"
Hamish whimpered at the mention of Anderson's name.
"Give him here, dear." Irene passed Sherlock her surgical gloves in exchange for Hamish. "DI Lestrade was just looking for you."
Irene followed while Sherlock opened the door of the room in which the body was currently laid out, and saw Lestrade carefully examining it while he waited for him.
"Ah, Sherlock," he greeted, but stopped suddenly once he saw Hamish. "What the hell is your infant son doing here?"
Irene glared at him, "Language."
"This is his parents' line of work. So it's far better start exposing him to cases like these whilst he's young."
"He's still a baby!" Lestrade sounded exasperated.
"Do you see any hint of disturbance etched on his face?" Sherlock argued, "Because I certainly don't"
Hamish was contentedly sucking on his thumb while resting his head on Irene's shoulder.
While the Holmeses talked to Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan were having a quick chat.
"The Freak brought his son to the morgue!"
"Wasn't surprised though. Actually, Hamish looks cute."
"Don't let him hear you say that. He thinks the word 'cute' is some sort of insult instead of an endearment." Donovan rolls her eyes.
"Let's just hope that Hamish takes after Irene's personality, rather than Sherlock's."
"I doubt that. Have you seen the way he looks at people? He has the same intimidating gaze as the Freak."
"I don't think I'll ever be at peace if I know that my future children are going to have to deal with another Sherlock."
"Well look on the bright side, at least you can give them tips on how to handle it."
~o~
"So you can ask his wife where the other bodies are." Sherlock concluded after a minute and a half of deduction.
"You will find her in the hidden basement. So don't give up if you think you haven't found her," Irene added while rocking Hamish.
"How do you know?" Lestrade questioned.
"People like her always hide when they feel they're about to be caught," She purred.
"And she's obviously stupid enough to hide after leaving obvious evidence," said Sherlock.
Lestrade stared at them, dumbfounded.
They really do make a good team.
John entered the room a moment later.
"Did I miss anything?"
Hamish's eyes lit up upon seeing Uncle John and he squealed at him, arms and legs flailing.
John looked shocked at seeing Hamish.
"Sherlock..."
"Don't," he cut him off. "I've already dealt with everyone else."
John takes his godchild from Irene.
"Well, Hamish, this is a rather odd environment for you to be in."
"John, we'd like you to accompany us during the arrest, just in case anything happens," Lestrade said.
"Of course."
"Irene and I would like to go with the team during the arrest," Sherlock announced.
John looked at him, confused.
"Who are you leaving Hamish with then?" he asked.
"No one, he's coming with us."
"Sherlock!" John exclaimed.
"I will definitely not allow you to bring a child while we're taking the wife into custody." Lestrade scolded, "Sherlock, she could be armed."
Sherlock chuckled, "Please, she's not armed. Definitely not smart enough to conceal herself with a weapon."
"If you boys are done arguing, I suggest we go. She's about to board a plane to the US, and her plane leaves in an hour." Irene cut them all off.
"How do you know?" John asked.
Irene waves her Blackberry, "I have my ways."
Lestrade looked conflicted but eventually resigned himself to their superiority.
"Alright, but both of you need to stay in the car with Hamish."
Lestrade left to send for back-up.
"You're going to make your first arrest, Hamish. Isn't that exciting?" Irene cooed to her son, who was currently resting his head on John's chest.
He smiled his two-toothed smile at her, indicating that he was pleased.
Anderson then entered the room to talk to John, but before he could say anything Sherlock cut in.
"Close your mouth Anderson, your opinion doesn't matter."
Upon seeing Anderson, Hamish whimpered and reached out to his father.
Sherlock gladly took him and proceeded to torment Anderson.
"My son can sense stupidity from a distance. When you came in, he was ready to start crying."
"Would it kill you to stop with the insults for just a day?" Anderson asked, annoyed.
"Again, Anderson, these are not insults, but descriptions."
Hamish stopped whimpering and gave a big laugh, which made his parents smile at his delight.
Donovan came in to inform them that their car was ready. As they walked, Sherlock adjusted Hamish to face Anderson again.
"Now that, Hamish, is an example of a dull man."