Because He Was Alone

Chapter Fifteen: Mummy?

It was soon after that Sherlock was resting on the couch.

"No… It can't be… Well, I mean I suppose it could be. The car… His car…" Sherlock mumbled, eyes closed, hands steepled under his chin. Hamish was sat on the detective's stomach, examining his own tiny hands, eyebrows pulled together, bottom lip stuck out in concentration. He was gently tracing his own fingernails when Sherlock began talking to himself. Hands now forgotten, Hamish turned, his attention falling upon the detective.

"Yes! Yes, the car! Wait… No. No! Ugh! This is so infuriating!" he cried, letting out a disgruntled sound at his frustration.

Hamish, who had previously been entranced by his father's deductions, giggled loudly upon hearing the noise Sherlock made.

Almost having forgotten Hamish was sitting on his stomach, Sherlock's eyes flew open, his thoughts halting to a stop upon hearing his son's giggling.

"Oh," he sighed, pulling his hands apart as he peered down at Hamish. Still frustrated by the case, he ran his hands through his hair, ruffling the dark curls as he did so, which only made Hamish laugh further, the light sound filling the quiet flat.

Smiling at his son, who was practically gasping for breath, Sherlock reached down, picked up Hamish and lifted him into the air, holding him above his head.

"Is that funny, Hamish? Hmm? Do you think I'm silly?!" Sherlock cried playfully, over-exaggerating the word as he bounced Hamish, who was laughing loudly, gripping tightly onto his father's hands.

"Daddy!" he squealed happily, laughing down at his father.

"Come here!" Sherlock laughed, grinning widely at his son. Making quiet kissing noises, the detective lowered his arms until Hamish was hovering just above his face.

"Mwah!" he exclaimed comically, pressing a fun kiss to the little boy's cheek. "Who's my little boy?" he laughed, pressing ticklish kisses to Hamish's face, not caring how silly he sounded.

"Daddy!" the little boy cried happily, trying to shove his father away. He pressed both of his hands against Sherlock's lips, attempting to stop the stream of kisses.

Laughing heartily at his son's efforts, the detective parted his lips just slightly.

"Om nom nom!" he said, pretending to eat Hamish's fingers.

"Ah! No! No 'ease, Daddy!" the little boy exclaimed, quickly withdrawing his fingers from Sherlock's lips.

"I'm going to eat you!" the detective exclaimed comically, sitting Hamish on his stomach. He bent down, pressing his lips to his son's stomach and feet.

"I've got your toes!"

"What?! No! Daddy!"

Laughing, Sherlock withdrew his head, allowing Hamish to catch his breath.

Smiling widely at the giggling little boy, he gently brushed away some of Hamish's dark hair.

"Noo," he sighed happily, smiling down at his son, "I could never eat you." He paused, letting his hand rest on Hamish's stomach. "You'd be too sweet," he finished happily.

Giggling, Hamish peered up at his father, a sweet smile on his face.

"Up 'ease?" he asked quietly, stretching his arms up towards Sherlock.

Obliging, the detective pulled Hamish up, wrapping one arm around the little boy. He placed his hand on the back of Hamish's head.

"'Ove, Daddy," Hamish murmured, talking into Sherlock's neck. He turned his head and pressed a light kiss to his father's jaw. Then, smiling widely, he took one hand and rubbed it against the detective's stomach, attempting to tickle him.