He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Don't Patronize Me Martha

    "Daddy you're here!" he exclaimed, running up and wrapping his arms around his father's legs.
"Hey Hamish, how have you been?" John wondered, ruffling his son's hair playfully.
"Oh I'm great; we're having so much fun! We made a huge castle out of cardboard boxes, it's amazing! Mrs. Hudson said that I can take it home and use it for my action figures too!" Hamish said excitedly.
"Did she really? Wow that's awesome, you're having fun then?" John wondered.
"Definitely." Hamish agreed. "What were you doing up here with Mr. Sherlock?" he wondered.
"Oh, just talking." John shrugged, which was kind of the truth. It's not like he had to hide a hug from his son, but still it was something he'd like to keep between himself and Sherlock, just for now.
"Haven't been kissing have you?" Hamish asked accusingly, and John just laughed, shaking his head.
"Hamish what do you take me for?" he wondered.
"Someone who really wants to kiss Mr. Sherlock." Hamish decided. Sherlock just laughed an uneasy laugh, and John glowed bright red.
"Hamish watch what you say, he's standing right there." John hissed, loud enough for Sherlock to hear him but quiet enough to make Hamish laugh.
"Daddy it's alright, I'm sure he knows." Hamish assured. He finally walked over to where Sherlock was standing, looking a bit awkward for intruding on a family conversation.
"Hello Hamish." Sherlock said with a smile, looking as if he didn't want to know what the kid had to say.
"Do you know that my daddy wants to kiss you very much? I heard him talking to Molly downstairs; he said that the kiss was perfect and that you'd be the perfect husband." Hamish said very blatantly. John groaned, hiding his face in his hands and looking at Sherlock nervously through the gaps in his fingers. Sherlock, however, looked flattered, looking at John with a smile on his face.
"You've been talking to Molly about me?" he wondered.
"Well, I mean...just a little." John shrugged. Sherlock just laughed, looking back down at Hamish and bending down to whisper something to him. Hamish nodded with a smile on his face and John watched the two, wondering what on earth Sherlock was planning. Finally he stood back up and Hamish rushed over to John, pulling on his sleeve so that he could whisper something as well. Unfortunately Hamish's whispers were the sound of normal conversation, and John didn't have to lean down a foot before Hamish started to talk.
"Mr. Sherlock said that you're the most beautiful man on earth, and that kissing you was the best experience of his life." Hamish 'whispered', and John looked up at Sherlock with a modest little smile.
"Well then, that clears the air doesn't it?" John wondered, and Sherlock just laughed, leaning against the wall timidly and crossing his thin arms across his chest.
"Yes, I suppose it does. Everything we needed to know in life we learned from Hamish Watson." He agreed. Hamish smiled proudly, obviously happy to help. Their moment was very quickly ruined by Mrs. Hudson, who was struggling to fit the gigantic box up the stairs.
"Oh dear, Mrs. Hudson let me help you with that!" Sherlock exclaimed, obviously happy for an excuse to get out of there. John wanted to help but it seemed that Sherlock had it all under control.
"There's my castle daddy, see it?" Hamish asked. John laughed, deciding that is was nearly impossible to miss the massive box that they were now setting on the couch.
"Ya that's pretty cool." John agreed with a laugh, ruffling Hamish's hair for good measure. "We should get going though, it's time to eat."
"Mrs. Hudson said that we can eat here tonight." Hamish pointed out proudly, as if this were some sort of accomplishment.
"Did she really?" John wondered, looking up at where Mrs. Hudson was now flattening out her dress and fixing her hair. He also noticed that Sherlock doing the same, brushing off his jacket and running his fingers through his curls a couple more times, just to make sure it looked presentable.
"Did I what?" Mrs. Hudson wondered, obviously hearing just enough of their conversation to figure out who they were talking about.
"I told daddy that you invited us for dinner." Hamish pointed out. Mrs. Hudson smiled, nodding furiously.
"Yes, I did actually. I decided that after your first day of work you should have a night to yourself, don't need to cook or do any dishes at all." Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. John couldn't help but smile back, he had this weird feeling of thankfulness that made his chest feel like it was inflating, but he just nodded.
"Oh of course, that sounds wonderful Mrs. Hudson thank you so much!" he exclaimed, taking off his coat and hanging it on the rack.
"Sherlock you're invited too of course." Mrs. Hudson added, and Sherlock smiled like an excited little kid, making John's heart do a little tap dance in his chest.
"Oh yay, I was going home to a nice meal of pasta with canned sauce for the third night in a row." Sherlock said, sounding as if he had dodged a bullet.
"How come you're only eating that?" John wondered, walking over to where Sherlock was standing in the living room. Sherlock just shrugged, looking as though he were being interrogated.
"Oh you know, it's not easy affording that apartment on my salary." Sherlock admitted.
"And therefore you can't afford food?" John wondered.
"No, I can afford food, just not enough to make myself a good meal." Sherlock shrugged. John looked at him in pity; here he thought that this man had everything, when in reality he was struggling just as much as John was.
"Sherlock I didn't know that, I could always..." John started, but Sherlock ducked his head, cutting him off.
"You don't need to pity me John; I'm just fine as I am. I don't want you to think that I am incapable of getting along on my own, this is the life I've chosen, I knew it would be a bit shaky in the beginning." Sherlock admitted.
"Don't be such a drama queen you're perfectly fine." Mrs. Hudson insisted, hitting Sherlock lightly on the arm to get him to snap out of it.
"I am not fine!" Sherlock argued, but his somber expression turned into a defensive little frown.
"You are perfectly well off, I pay you plenty!" Mrs. Hudson insisted.
"God you're like my mother." Sherlock groaned, plopping down on the lacy couch and frowning at the blank TV screen. Redbeard curled into a little ball at his feet, resting his red head on his paws and staring up at his master with sleepy brown eyes. John sat down next to Sherlock, leaving plenty of room for Jesus, and Hamish walked over to play a bit more with his box castle.
"So um...how was work?" Sherlock wondered, not seeming like he knew any small talk conversation starters.
"It was interesting, to say the least. I got there a bit late and found that I would be coached by none other than Greg Lestrade." John said with an ironic little laugh.
"No way, Greg has a job?" Sherlock wondered, turning on the couch so that he could see John better. He looked a lot more relaxed now, an easy smile playing across his beautiful pale face. John unconsciously ran his fingers through his hair, knowing that if Sherlock was going to be watching him he might as well look good.
"Ya, I guess so, but he fell asleep half way through so I wouldn't say he was a star employee." John admitted, and Sherlock just laughed, nodding in agreement.
"Ya he's a bit of a funny guy, but I'm glad you two met. I feel like you don't have any male friends." Sherlock decided.
"Well I mean, I've got you. We may be more than friends but I still consider you to be my friend." John admitted. Sherlock just laughed, shaking his head and repositioning himself on the couch, folding his legs underneath him and looking at John like a love sick teenaged girl.
"John I'm flattered, honestly, but I shouldn't count as a male friend, I'm about as gay as it gets." Sherlock admitted, not looking very shameful about that. In fact he looked rather proud.
"Well that doesn't make your company any worse." John insisted.
"You need someone who will be a hardcore man, football, beer, talking about women, fixing cars in his garage and rock music." Sherlock insisted.
"Greg does all of that stuff?" John wondered.
"I assume he does, we never really got into conversations about women, shockingly." Sherlock agreed.
"Ya, that's probably off the table." John agreed. Sherlock smiled softly, looking down at his feet as if somehow he had just fully realized John was his. Maybe he had just noticed something he hadn't before, something he could now come to admire. Either way, it seemed as though his heart was beating just a little bit faster. They waited around a little bit for Mrs. Hudson to prepare whatever she was making, but that time was easily occupied once Hamish found some action figures in his backpack. The spent their time having battles on the cardboard castle, Hamish was the knight, John the dragon, and Sherlock made a surprisingly good princess in distress. They got so loud that Redbeard decided he wanted to join in on the fun so he began to jump around and yip and try to worm his way in. John couldn't help but notice how good Sherlock was being with Hamish, how he was willing to play with him, how he made funny voices and made the princess fall off of many things, making Hamish laugh hysterically. It was almost as if he were made to be a father, to be a mentor to a small child. John imagined a life where this was normal, where Sherlock and he were married and Sherlock would play with Hamish while John made dinner, or before they went to bed. And John would watch him without Sherlock knowing, and finally he would look up and they would make eye contact and John would smile softly and Sherlock would grin like a child...god he wanted to marry that man so bad. Wouldn't this all just be easier if they had rings around their fingers?
"Boys, dinner!" Mrs. Hudson called.
"Boys?" Sherlock muttered, sounding a tad bit insulted. Hamish however had no trouble dropping his action figure and rushing to wash his hands, Redbeard barking at his heals. Sherlock and John got up, stretching out their aching legs and cracking their necks. Playtime wasn't nearly as painless as it used to be.
"Well that was fun." Sherlock decided with a little laugh.
"You're really great with him, do you like kids?" John wondered, a casual question of course. Sherlock shrugged, as if he hadn't given it much thought.
"I don't really know any kids." He admitted. "But I do have a pretty good princes voice."
"You have the best princess voice." John agreed with a laugh, and together they walked up to take their spots at the table. Hamish sat next to John, flailing his feet and craning his neck to get a sneak peek at what Mrs. Hudson made. Whatever it was, it smelled wonderful, and John's stomach growled in anticipation.
"Alright here we go, watch out, the pan is hot." Mrs. Hudson warned. She set down a magnificent platter of what looked to be pork chops, going back to the kitchen to fetch the bowl of mashed potatoes and the bowl of green beans. All in all it looked like an excellent meal, far better than one John could make on his own.
"We're not children Mrs. Hudson; we know the pan is hot." Sherlock insisted, but even as he said it, John got the strong temptation to touch the pan, just to see if it really was hot.
"Compared to me you two are children, and Hamish is basically a fetus. You get a whole new perspective when you're older, that's for sure." Mrs. Hudson insisted. John just shrugged, looking at Sherlock for a moment just for the heck of it.
"What's a fetus?" Hamish wondered, looking at John curiously.
"It's the first stage of a baby's development, just starting to grow." Sherlock said quickly. Hamish blinked in confusion, and John started to reevaluate Sherlock's children skills.
"It's a baby baby." John offered, and Hamish nodded, understanding that a lot better. Mrs. Hudson just laughed, sitting down in her chair and yelping when her feet made contact with the red lump under the table. Obviously Redbeard was hoping for some handouts.
"Well this looks wonderful Mrs. Hudson." John said with an eager smile, happy to see good food after watching everyone else buy it all day. Sherlock nodded in agreement, expressing his thanks.
"Well then, dig in." Mrs. Hudson suggested, and all at once they dove for their favorite foods. John speared a pork chop, Sherlock attacked the mashed potatoes and Hamish took a couple of green beans on his fork, eying them suspiciously. Finally everyone got a bit of everything and it was silent as they all ate, savoring every bite of Mrs. Hudson's amazing cooking.
"This is delicious Mrs. Hudson; I honestly don't know how you do it." Sherlock admitted. Mrs. Hudson just laughed, shrugging off the compliment yet smiling a bit to herself.
"It's an earned trait I suppose, once you get over fifty your cooking suddenly becomes so much better." Mrs. Hudson admitted with a laugh.
"But you're not over fifty are you?" John teased, and Mrs. Hudson just laughed.
"I crossed that bridge too many years ago." She admitted, sounding more proud than sad about her age.
"We're lucky to have you Mrs. Hudson; honestly I don't know what I'd do without you." John admitted, and Mrs. Hudson smiled once more. Now it was a throw compliments party, all aimed at the old woman at the table.
"Well I don't know either John, you're lucky I'm so accepting of your child." Mrs. Hudson insisted, pointing her fork at him threateningly.
"Oh ya, definitely." John agreed, not knowing what else to say.
"You watched Hamish this morning?" Sherlock wondered, obviously a bit out of the loop.
"Ya, I had to go to work early and couldn't watch over him before school." John agreed.
"And after school, that's why I'm here now." Hamish explained through bites of pork.
"What time do you have to be at work?" Sherlock wondered, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes but still looking intrigued.
"Um, well for now I start at six." John admitted. "I get the worst shifts because I'm new."
"I can watch him for you." Sherlock offered. John looked at Sherlock curiously, trying to figure out if he were joking or not.
"That's pretty early Sherlock; I don't want to make you get up." John insisted.
"I wake up at five every morning, a habit I got into when I was in college. I used to go on walks when the campus was quiet and now I still have that internal alarm clock. I'd be happy to come over and watch him, and I'll be here after school as well." Sherlock offered. John thought about this for a moment but couldn't find a problem; in fact it seemed like the perfect solution.
"Alright, ya that sounds awesome." John agreed.
"It does?" Sherlock wondered, looking more excited than John was.
"Yes of course, we'll talk about it a bit more but that sounds like the ideal solution." John agreed. Sherlock's face broke into a relived smile, and for a moment John was so tempted to kiss him, just a little peck on the lips to show how much he really cared for this beautiful man.
"Alright, great." Sherlock muttered, going back to his food rather awkwardly, as if feeling like there was more he should be saying. But he was silent, and for the rest of the meal there was nothing but small talk. The most eventful thing that happened was when Mrs. Hudson brought out this fabulous looking peach cobbler, and for a moment John thought he had died and gone to heaven. She even had ice cream to go along with it, how great was that? John had two pieces (he could've had more, but he decided that he'd be polite) and it might have been the most amazing desert he had ever eaten, it was still warm from being in the oven. 

    "You're literally going to kill me Mrs. Hudson." John insisted as he finished up the last of his ice cream, long since melted into a puddle of vanilla at the bottom of his bowl.
"Well that was never my intention." Mrs. Hudson admitted, putting the lid back on the ice cream, much to Hamish's disappointment.
"This food is just amazing, it's just mind blowing how good this food is." John muttered in a bit of a trance, wishing that he could eat more and more even though his stomach felt like it was close to bursting.
"Someone's getting sleepy." Sherlock decided. John just laughed, shaking his head and sitting up straighter in his chair, as if that somehow made him more alert.
"I don't get sleepy, but you're right, it's coming on seven o'clock already." John pointed out, checking his watch for good measure.
"I've got art homework; I have to draw a picture of my dream house." Hamish groaned, as if that was really so strenuous.
"Oh enjoy it Hamish, once the numbers start turning into letters everything gets a lot more difficult." Sherlock waned, and Hamish looked at him like he was crazy. John rose from the table, tapping Hamish so that he got up as well. Mrs. Hudson went to put the ice cream away and Sherlock, obviously feeling awkward since he was the only one standing, got to his feet as well.
"Thank you Mrs. Hudson, for everything." John said with a smile, getting his wallet out and tucking a twenty dollar bill into her apron pocket.
"Oh John that's not necessary, it's what I do for neighbors." Mrs. Hudson insisted, trying to give it back but John wouldn't take it.
"That's due for more than just this, you're the best next door neighbor I could ever wish for." John insisted, holding out his arms for a hug.
"Oh you're such a charmer." Mrs. Hudson laughed, but in the end she ended up giving John a very motherly hug.
"I'll have you over for dinner once I get things all straightened out over there, once things start to get less chaotic." John decided.
"That sounds wonderful, if not a little bit dangerous. Who knows the extent of your cooking knowledge?" Mrs. Hudson wondered.
"I hope you like cereal." John said with a laugh, and Mrs. Hudson just rolled her eyes.
"You better get a move on, if Hamish has homework it won't be long until he's dragging you out the door." Mrs. Hudson insisted.
"Alright then, thanks for everything." John decided one last time. Hamish was in the living room trying to get his box off of the couch, and while he was struggling Sherlock said his goodbyes and thank yous and all of that. John grabbed the box the best he could, balancing it on his knee as he struggled to get a good grip.