Sherlock: The Next Generation

Chapter 3

“Papa?” John looked down at the quiet voice, the tugging on the bottom of his trousers. Martin was standing there looking almost nervous with a piece of paper in his hands. He held it out, obviously wanting John to take it. It appeared to be crude stick drawings of four people. Two were distinctly smaller than the others and three had black curls on top of their not quite circular heads. John smiled, recognising what it was a picture of. Their family.

“It’s very good, Marti,” John smiled softly at the little boy, holding up the picture. “Isn’t it, Sherlock?”

“It’s not very realistic,” was Sherlock’s comment as he glanced up momentarily before going back to reading to Hamish. John saw Martin’s face drop, the almost pleased expression at his work disappearing due to the dismissal from his daddy. John knew Sherlock didn’t mean it, after all he was Sherlock and disliked being interrupted while working, but he could have at least made an effort. Instead of giving Hamish all his attention.

“Sherlock, you’ve got visitors!” Mrs Hudson’s call was rather singsong.

“Who is it?” Sherlock shouted back. Looking annoyed at being interrupted, an expression only mimicked by Hamish. Martin had looked up from his drawing curiously.

“Your brother and the detective inspector!” Sherlock groaned at that. John smirked. It had been obvious that they would show up sooner or later. After all they had just had a baby girl and they would undoubtedly want to meet her uncles. Though for some reason Sherlock and John weren’t allowed to visit them. It was frustrating.

“Tell them to go away!” Sherlock eventually called down grumpily. Hamish giggled at that. John shook his head.

“Ignore him, tell them to come right up.” Almost instantly after John spoke footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs, along with mild bickering. It seemed Lestrade and Mycroft were bickering over who should be holding their daughter. Sherlock scowled deeply as the two of them entered the living room. Mycroft first followed by Lestrade holding the baby. John put down his newspaper to stand.

“Uncle Mycwoft, Uncle Gweg!” Hamish had hopped off Sherlock’s knee to run over to the two men that had just arrived. His eyes were bright as he began hopping around them.

“Mycroft, Greg,” Mycroft corrected, glancing at Sherlock. “He has the same speech impediments you had as a boy.” Sherlock just rolled his eyes, staying where he was.

“Has there been a murdeh?” Hamish asked brightly as he looked up at Lestrade expectantly.

“Murder!” Sherlock shouted over.

“Murderrrrrrrrr,” Hamish replied, looking proud of himself before glancing back at Lestrade.

“No,” Lestrade chuckled, ruffling Hamish’s hair warmly. “We brought your cousin to meet you.”

“Cousin?” Hamish tilted his head.

“My daughter,” Lestrade smiled as he knelt down to Hamish’s level to show him the little baby girl. She was so small, fast asleep with a thumb in her little mouth. She had a single strand of brown hair atop her head. Hamish watched her curiously. Like she was some kind of experiment.

“She’s beautiful,” John commented as he headed over. “Martin, come over and meet Arianna your cousin.”

Martin looked up from where he was scribbling and reluctantly got up. He wandered over and peered around his twin. Almost cautiously looking at the little girl. Sherlock still refused to come over, sitting rather grumpily as the rest of the Watson-Holmes family gathered around Lestrade and Arianna.

“Papa?” Martin spoke quietly and cautiously. “Why she so small?”

John looked at Martin shocked. It was the first time he had spoken any words other than Papa and Dada.

That was a major improvement.