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“Now after an hour or so, we should see how the acid affects the soft tissue of the human face.”
“Uncle Sherlock, don’t you think you should find a more conducive way to spend your time?”
John had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud when he overheard his husband and his nephew bicker about the merits of chemical tests on a human head in their kitchen. Honestly, the Holmes family and their quirks.
Mycroft and Anthea had needed to head out of the country and, for some reason or another, their usual nanny was unavailable to watch their beloved Elric. John had volunteered for him and Sherlock to watch their nephew, thinking it would be a good bonding experience for the three of them.
He was beginning to think he had offered for his own amusement at this point.
Elric shook his head as he watched his uncle, “Shouldn’t you be conducting this experiment in a sterile laboratory, uncle Sherlock?”
Sherlock grit his teeth, “You’re currently sleeping in my sterile laboratory, my dear nephew. Unless you would prefer me to conduct my experiments by your bedside.”
“Oh really, I was wondering why my room smelled like something had died in there.” Elric wrinkled his nose.
“They were already dead. Nothing died in there,” Sherlock muttered, “Not yet at least.”
John rolled his eyes, “Sherlock, do not threaten our nephew. He’s the only one we have.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Sherlock looked harshly at Elric.
Elric didn’t look fazed as he wandered away from the kitchen table. John could see the boy pick up one of the cold cases Lestrade had given Sherlock, opening it and skimming the information there. “You do realize it was the sister, not the wife, don’t you? It’s obvious from the—”
Whatever was obvious about the deduction, John didn’t get to hear, because Sherlock had jumped up from the table and dashed toward his nephew. Elric in turn bolted up the stairs and locked himself in the sanctuary of his bedroom.
“Where are my lockpicks, John?” Sherlock hissed.
John rolled his eyes, “I am not helping you pick that lock.”
“Then I’ll kick it down.”
“Sherlock, you are not going to kill our nephew!”
“He’s a menace!”
“He gets it from his father and uncle! And he’s six!”
Sherlock grit his teeth, “Children are vermin.” He hissed, “I don’t know why anyone would want one.”
John raised an eyebrow, “Shall I call Harry and tell her you changed your mind about the surrogacy.”
“Oh don’t be ridiculous, John.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Our child will be far superior in every way.”