Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

“It’s our birthday!” Hamish ran out of his room and into the living room, cheering excitedly. He began to hop up and down, his antics rather amusing for the two men in the room. There was a pile of presents on the dining table, almost instantly noticed by the young boy.

“Are those ours?!” He grinned happily at Sherlock and John, who just chuckled.

“Some are yours, some are Martin’s,” John smiled. Molly rested in his arms, sucking her thumb as she slept peacefully. She was now seven months old and could crawl quite well. She’d also begun to form some words, mainly just “Papa” and “Daddy” but there were a few others in there. She seemed to be developing at the speed of Hamish, at any rate. Her blonde hair had grown longer and curlier, falling just above her shoulders.

“Can I open them now?” Hamish’s deep blue eyes widened pleadingly. John chuckled.

“Wait until Martin’s up,” Sherlock put in with a slight smile.

“But he was drawing! Can I go get him?”

“If you wish,” Sherlock replied. John shook his head with a chuckle.

“Did you ever get this excited over your birthdays, Sher?”

“No, they weren’t much of an occasion. I think we spoil them.”

“Maybe just a bit.”

Soon Hamish reappeared, dragging Martin behind him. The quiet boy looked a bit flustered at the sight of all the presents on the table that Hamish stopped in front of. Sherlock and John got up from their seats to walk over. John handed Molly to Sherlock before putting on tea and making toast. He turned to watch his children open their presents as he did so.

Hamish tore the wrapping paper off his at the speed of a running cheetah. He grinned in delight at each one. A book on forensic science, a series of detective novels, some equipment for school (boring) and his own full chemistry set! Wow! He began to meticulously go over everything he had, memorising it. There was loads of stuff. Obviously daddy didn’t want Hamish using his...

Martin unwrapped his with more care, rather slow compared to his twin.  His presents were quite different from his brother’s. A fantasy book series, a range of sketching pencils, another sketchbook and equipment for school. Nothing much.

“We’ve got another present for you, Marti,” Sherlock smiled, leading the silent but smiling boy over to the corner of the living room. A blanket had been draped over something, a rather strange shape. Martin carefully pulled it off to reveal a keyboard.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he spoke quietly, looking up at Sherlock with shining blue eyes. Hamish had skipped over, stopping when he saw the keyboard.

“Wow! Now you’re going to be playing two instruments!”

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