“Run, Lieutenant! The Galaxian is coming! Don’t let him catch us!” Commander Watson shouted, running around the sitting room.
Lieutenant Holmes followed her faithfully, his four-year old legs propelling him as fast as they could. Lucky for him, the Galaxian couldn’t see very well through his cardboard helmet and kept bumping into the furniture. The Galaxian was distracted by his tail at one point, but the children’s happy shrieks reminded him that they were playing his favorite game and he was off and running once more.
The outer-space exploration team thundered down the stairs, heedless of General Granny walking up with a cup of tea.
“Ooh!” She exclaimed, hugging the wall so she didn’t get knocked over by the procession. “Careful, you two!”
“Yes, m’um!” Commander Watson shouted over her shoulder, continuing exactly as recklessly as she had before.
“Commander, could we have a biscuit break?” Holmes asked, getting tired of running.
“Excellent idea, Lieutenant.” Watson nodded, turning towards the approaching Galaxian. “I offer you a truce, sir. Do you accept?”
The Galaxian licked Watson’s cheek. Watson giggled, but in a very stoic, space Commander sort of way.
“Let’s see what the canteen has to offer, Lieutenant.” Watson said, once again leading the way.
In the 221C canteen, Doctor Daddy was on duty. He closed his laptop when the two explorers entered, ready to be of service.
“Doctor, we require biscuits.” Watson declared.
“Require?” The doctor repeated, crossing his arms.
“We would like some biscuits, please.” Holmes said.
“Commander?” The doctor looked at Watson expectantly.
“Please.” She relented.
“Two orders of biscuits and milk coming right up.”
Full from their afternoon snack, Rosie and Will found they weren’t in the mood to run from Galaxians. They climbed the stairs back up to 221B. Will stopped in the doorway of the sitting room. Rosie turned around, confused.
“What is it?” She asked.
“The game is on, Watson.” Will said trying to sound just like his dad, who sat watching from his chair.
Rosie bounded over. “What’s the case, Holmes?”
“My sippy cup is missing.” Will said seriously.
“A theft!”
“Yes.” Will agreed, keeping that new word in the back of his mind for later. “It was on the table this morning, and I didn’t move it.”
“Who do you think took it?” Rosie asked.
“I dunno. Let’s look for clues!” Will suggested.
They crawled around on the floor for a while, examining the scene, but neither found any evidence. Will had a breakthrough with the case in the kitchen. They found the sippy cup, empty and dismantled in the dish rack.
“Who could have done such a thing?” Rosie wondered.
“You see, Watson, but you do not observe.” Will said.
Sherlock smiled from his place in the sitting room.
“What does that mean?” Rosie asked.
“Dad says it.” Will shrugged. “I know who did it.”
“You do? How?”
“Look at the cup, Watson. It’s in the dish rack. We only ever put things in there if they get washed with the blue thing.”
“The sponge.”
“Sponge. Right.” Will said. “Anyway, Dad puts my sippy cup in the dishwasher when he washes it. Mum washes it with the sponge.”
“Incredible! Well done, my friend.” Rosie congratulated. “We should confront the thief when she comes home.”
“You’re right.” Will nodded. “Do you think we’ll get ice cream for solving the case?”
“Most definitely.” Rosie said. “All great detectives get ice cream.”
~
“I’m about to make the biggest bust of my career, right? Ready to take down the crime family I’ve been following for almost a year, when I get an SOS text from Sherlock.” Lestrade said. “I give up on the case to help my friend. I bring the cavalry to Baker Street: helicopters, squad cars, and a SWAT team. I run up the stairs and he’s just standing there in his dressing gown, perfectly fine.”
Everyone at the dinner table laughed. Well, everyone except for Sherlock laughed.
“I was not perfectly fine.” Sherlock protested. “I was trying to write a Best Man speech.”
“He’s always had a flair for the dramatic.” Mycroft said.
“And the speech turned out wonderfully.” Y/N said.
“I liked the second one more.” John said, taking a sip of his drink.
“I have to agree there.” Dhan added, smiling at her husband. “But I didn’t hear the first one.”
“It was quite the ordeal.” Molly said. “He started with the telegrams–”
“I thought this was a birthday dinner, not a roast.” Mrs. Hudson interrupted.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock said.
“Because if it’s a roast, I have notes prepared.”
They laughed again, and this time Sherlock couldn’t help but crack a smile. A small curly haired head poked through the space between Y/N’s chair and Sherlock’s. Will looked sleepily up at his mother.
“Mummy, I’m tired.” He said. “How much longer are the grown-ups going to talk?”
“I have asked that question many, many times.” Sherlock muttered.
Y/N pulled Will up onto her lap, wrapping her arms around him and kissing the top of his head. He leaned into the warmth and comfort of her, closing his eyes. Will was asleep before his parents finished saying their goodnights. Sherlock lifted the sleeping boy from Y/N’s lap and carried him back upstairs. He woke up again when Sherlock set him gently down on his bed. Will assented to pajamas, but refused to brush his teeth.
“Alright,” Y/N said, “But no clean teeth means no bedtime story.”
“No!” He whined.
“That’s how it is.” Y/N said.
“Fine.” Will pouted.
Teeth brushed, pajamas put on, and closet checked for monsters, the Holmes family squished together on Will’s bed.
“What story do you want to hear tonight?” Y/N asked, tucking the quilt up around Will’s shoulders.
“A Study in Pink, please.” Will said.
“You’ve heard that one three times already.”
“It’s my favorite.”
Y/N kissed his forehead. “Mine too.”
Sherlock began, “A long time ago, I was looking for a new place to live. I’d helped your Gran with a case before, and knew she owned a few flats in London. On the day I decided I would live there, I met the woman who would change my life.”
Sherlock reached over and took Y/N’s hand in his own.
“I was terribly bored at my job, and looking for something new and interesting. I’d heard of the great detective Sherlock Holmes, but I’d never had the chance to really talk to him. Imagine my surprise when I find him coming out of my Mum’s house with his big coat.” Y/N smiled.
Will giggled. He loved Dad’s big coat. Last Christmas, they’d gone out for something in a park with a tree, but it was so late. Will was really tired, so Dad wrapped him up in his big coat and Will slept. Nothing was as cozy as Dad’s coat. Not even Will’s favorite blanket.
“Two days later, your Uncle John and I were working on a case. We were up in a dark attic while I explained my observations to him. I’d barely finished when your Mum appeared and said exactly what I was thinking. All I could do was stare at her…”
Will closed his eyes, listening to the words he’d heard before. The story of Mum and Dad and how they solved mysteries together. He fell asleep, dreaming of rooftops and pink phones and Galaxians and friends and adventure. There was so much for him to explore, so much to be discovered beyond this home, beyond the Baker Street Trio .
~~~~T H E . E N D ?~~~~