Since I haven't talked to any of you in forever, massage me and tell me how you're doing. I want a better relationship with me readers! I feel so bad! I haven't been good about posting. I know. It's been weeks and that's terrible. I'm so sorry. I'll be better, I promise.
I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Vomment, and fan!
~BB
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Chapter 6
"Yes, Arthur, I know..."
Arthur?
"Yes...I want you to meet them too...sure their strange, but..."
Hamish thinks John and I are strange?
"Yeah, I'll ask them...see you tonight."
Tonight? What's tonight?
"I love you too."
...
I knocked on Hamish's door and entered before waiting for a response.
I had already guessed the situation that was upon us from his phone call.
"Is your boyfriend Arthur coming over for dinner then?" I asked, a smirk on my face.
Hamish looked astonished.
"How did you...?" He asked.
"Hamish, you know I'm not stupid."
"We're you listening through the door?" He yelled, sounding angry.
"Well...yes," I responded.
"Have you never heard of privacy?" He furrowed his eyebrows.
He may have aquired my intellect and John's sense of bravery, but Hamish acted like such a normal teenager sometimes.
"Hamish, you know that I have to check on you every once and a while, with your circumstances and such..." I reminded him.
"Yes, but my depression has gotten better since Arthur and I started dating, dad. Haven't you noticed? I don't have bipolar fits anymore," Hamish looked at me.
I had noticed that Hamish's behavior had changed in the last six months, but I hadn't been aware that there even was an Arthur.
"We just need to be careful," I concluded. "Arthur may come for dinner tonight."
Hamish was trying to act upset with me, but I saw him smile as I was closing the door.
I found John in the kitchen.
"Hamish is having company over tonight," I notified him.
He turned around. "He's got a friend!?" John sounded excited.
"Well, yes I suppose so. It's a bit more than that though."
"Oh...what should I have ready for dinner then?" He asked. John was usually the one to take care of that. Most of the time we ordered out. Neither of us were 'Master Chefs', but there were some occasions when we would make something together.
"They're teenage boys. I'm sure they'd be fine with having a pizza. I'll call," I offered.
"Sherlock. This is the first time Hamish has had anyone, let alone a boyfriend, over," John said. I could see the hope filling his eyes.
"Your point?"
"Let's just try to be normal and try not to scare him away...don't ask to many questions," John made me agree.
"Yes, fine. I'll act perfectly normal," I sighed.
"Well, that's a start..." John laughed. I knew that he was thinking that 'perfectly normal' for me could mean anything from slightly unsociable to complete freak show, but I was going to try to act like a.../regular/ person.
I got myself thinking. If this was the only chance for Hamish to have a friend, I didn't want to screw that up. I grabbed Johns laptop off of his desk, hoping that he wouldn't noticed.
My eyes flew to where I had guessed the Internet Safari application would be and clicked on it.
I typed into the Google search bar: What sort of questions are okay to ask your son's boyfriend?
The first search result was an anti-gay website, so I tried a different phrase: What sorts of questions are okay to ask you /child's/ boyfriend?
This time I was successful.
I found a website with an article that was titled "8 Things to Ask My Daughter's Boyfriend."
I found a few questions that seemed acceptable. The rest applied only to girls.
"Dad?" I heard Hamish say from behind me. I quickly x-ed out of the Internet browser.
"Yes, Hamish?" I asked.
"Can I wear your shirt?" He asked.
I turned around and saw him holding up my purple button-down.
I remembered the lustful way John always looked at me when I wore that shirt. I made the connection that Hamish wanted to look good for Arthur.
"Yes, that's fine," I nodded.
He smiled, "Thanks."
I checked the clock.
No wonder Hamish had started to get ready. Arthur would be here in half an hour.
"Hamish, what does Arthur like on his pizza?" I called.
"Arthur doesn't eat pizza. He's a vegan," he answered back.
"Well, what does he eat, then?" I asked, looking for an alternative.
"Salad mostly..."
Okay. I think I could manage salad.
I went into the kitchen and started rummaging in the fridge.
"Nope, that's an experiment, not lettuce..." I mumbled to myself as I pushed the bag of green colored hair out of the way. I was testing the affects of artificial hair coloring on the temperature of the hair. I didn't know what it would help prove, but I had been very bored this week.
I opened a drawer and found the lettuce and other salad components.
This was my first time making a salad, so it took me longer than I had expected.
I was using a very large knife to cut the vegetables and ended up cutting my finger a bit.
Crap. I was bleeding everywhere. I grabbed paper towels and applied pressure onto the wound.
John came into the kitchen. "Shit, Sherlock. What happened?"
"I was making a salad because Arthur's vegan and I cut myself," I explained.
"Yes, okay, go clean that and I'll finish making dinner," he sighed.
I nodded. I felt pathetic. I could solve murders better than the best of them, but I couldn't make a simple salad to impress my son's boyfriend.
As I was cleaning my hand off in the bathroom, I heard the doorbell ring.
I didn't even need to ask Hamish to get it. He ran past the bathroom and I could his feet jumping down the steps to get the door.
I finished washing myself and went to the top of the stairs o listen.
Apparently Mrs. Hudson had beat Hamish to the door. Mrs. Hudson was quite fond of Hamish and she was like a grandmother to him.
"Mrs. Hudson, this is Arthur," Hamish said. I could hear the smile in his voice.
"Are you a friend from school?" She asked.
"I'm Hamish's boyfriend," Arthur said. His voice was deep, but sounded somewhat familiar.
"Oh, well that's wonderful," Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. Have you met John and Sherlock yet?"
"No, that's why I'm here tonight," Arthur said.
/Who/ did he sound like?
"Well, I'll let you boys be," she said, and I guessed that she was touching Hamish on the shoulder. She's that sort of affectionate person. "Have a good evening."
"You too, Mrs. Hudson," Hamish said.
I heard them start to walk towards the steps and backed away from the doorway to sit in my chair.
The feet on the steps stopped. I heard Hamish warn Arthur, "My dad can be a bit strange sometimes. If he says anything offensive, don't let it get to your head."
"Hamish, I'm sure he's a lovely person," Arthur said.
"Just keep in mind what I said," Hamish told him.
I assumed that Arthur nodded because I didn't hear anything else. The footsteps resumed.
It didn't hurt my feelings that Hamish thought I was strange. I know I'm different. I always have been. It doesn't come as a shock to hear someone say that about me any longer.
Hamish waltzed into the living room. The boy who followed him was tall and slender with dark hair, dark eyes, the whitest teeth, and impeccable fashion sense.
"Hi, Mr. Holmes, my name's Arthur," he said, holding out his hand. I took it gingerly. Something about this boy made me uneasy.
"Hello, Arthur," I said, shaking his hand.
John came out from the kitchen. "Oh, you've arrived. You must me Arthur," John exclaimed, visibly excited.
Arthur looked unfazed by John's enthusiasm.
"Dinner's almost done. We're having salad, is that good?" John checked.
"Yeah thanks, that's perfect," Arthur smiled in a friendly manner. It was as if this was his own home, his comfort obvious.
"Please, boys, sit down," I offered, motioning to the rest of the seats.
They both sat on the couch across from me. Arthur draped his arm around Hamish.
I tried to remember the questions from the website.
"So, how long have you two been dating?" I asked.
Hamish answered, "Five months."
"Alright. How did you meet?"
"I've got this one," Arthur smiled over at Hamish, realizing that these questions were for him. "We're in Most of our courses together and I thought Hamish was really adorable. I was nervous to tell him though. It took me a while."
I nodded. I didn't want to ask too many questions at once, so I would wait until dinner.
Fortunately, I didn't have to wait very long.
Dinner was ready a bit later.
I didn't eat; I wasn't hungry, but I still came to the table.
"Aren't you going to eat anything, Mr. Holmes?" Arthur asked.
I was going to answer, but Hamish beat me to it, "He only eats when he's /really/ hungry."
"How old are you, Arthur?" I asked.
"Well, I'm seventeen. I know I'm a bit older than Hamish, but I have no intentions of-"
"Yes, moving on," I resumed with my questions. "How are your grades?"
Arthur, who had been looking sideways at Hamish, turned his head and answered, "Oh, I get very high marks. I'm not as smart as Hamish , but he and I are both in all of the honors courses. I put 99% of my effort into school."
"99%?"
"Well, if I put in 100%, I wouldn't have any time for Hamish," he smiled, cheekily.
"What are your goals when you get older?" I continued.
"I want to own a successful business or do something in astronomy," he answered.
"Why astronomy?" I asked. John rolled his eyes at my question, knowing how I feel about the unknown.
"Well, I aim to find out everything I can about the universe. Then I can tell the world about my discoveries and we won't be in the dark anymore. I simply want to enhance education and knowledge," he said.
"Yes, I agree that's very important," I said to show him I was on his side. "Are your parents good people?"
"Dad, why do you have to ask so many questions?" Hamish sounded annoyed.
"No, it's fine. I don't mind," Arthur said. "My parents? I don't know. My biological father died 8 months before I was born and the man he'd been married to died a little less than a year after."
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that," John said. It seemed as if Arthur's family was stranger than ours.
"I'm sorry. What was your last name again?" I asked.
"Oh. Moriarty-Moran," Arthur said, casually.
John choked on the wine he had taken a drink of. I felt the blood drain from my face.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Holmes?" Arthur asked.
I said nothing except, "Hamish, a word?"
I stood up and started to walk away. I heard the scrape of Hamish's chair when I reached the hall.
"What is it dad? You're making Arthur feel bad," Hamish said.
"I know you like this boy-"
"I love him, Dad," Hamish's voice quivered. "I know how that sentence ends. But why?"
"A long time ago, Father and I told you about a bad man who tried to kill me and his partner who tried to kill Father. Those men were Arthur's parents," I explained.
"Yeah, I know," Hamish said.
"You know?"
"That's not the kind of thing you forget. A few months ago, I was thinking about it a lot, so I searched you on the Internet. I found out their names after I had started dating Arthur. I talked to him about it. He said he didn't care. I figured you would be okay with it because you technically killed both of his parents," Hamish said.
"It's not about a grudge, Hamish. If this boy gets mad because I killed his parents, he might hurt you."
"Arthur knows that his parents were terrible people. We've talked about everything. Don't you trust me, Dad?"
I sighed. Hamish was a responsible person. If there had been something wrong, he would have taken care of it.
"Yes, I trust you."
"Good. Let's go back to dinner," he suggested.
He walked back to the kitchen table and I followed him shortly after.
John looked over at me as if he expected me to kick Arthur out of the house.
I nodded at John and said, "It's very nice to meet Hamish's boyfriend."