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Sherlock walked up to the flat and stood right outside the door, peaking in. He observed John who was on his knees in front of Sherlock’s chair with Hamish occupying it.
“What sound does a dog make, Hamish?”
Hamish made a sound similar to the barking of a dog.
“A cat?”
“Meow, meow.”
John smiled. “What about a cow?”
“Moooooo.” Hamish giggled and John smiled back at him.
“Let’s see, what animal have I not done?”
“Frog!”
“A frog?” John pulled a face. “Frogs don’t make noises!”
Hamish wrinkled up his nose. “Yes! They do, papa!”
“What noise do they make then?”
“Ribbit!”
“Oh, I’ve got another one. What sound does a snake make?”
For the first time Hamish is quiet and just sits there staring at John.
“Come on, Hamish. Sssss.”
Hamish just sat there.
“Maybe we made too many noises today, huh?”
Hamish nodded. At that moment he saw Sherlock walk in and threw up his hands. “Dada!”
Sherlock smiled. “Hello, Hamish.” He walked over and picked Hamish up, propping him on his hip. “What nonsense were you and papa up to?”
“Animal noises!” Answered Hamish, happily.
Sherlock looked down at John who was still on the floor. “Really, John?”
“What’s wrong with animal noises?” He stood up and kissed Sherlock’s cheek. “Nothing is wrong with animal noises. We had fun, didn’t we?” He looked at Hamish who nodded at him.
John turned on the baby monitor downstairs in Sherlock’s room- no, their room, and listened for Sherlock reading to Hamish.
Except that isn’t what he heard.
“It isn’t that hard. You just go ‘ssss’. Just put your mouth together like so [pause] and blow out. That results in the sound: ssss.”
John smiled and chuckled at Sherlock. He walked out of Sherlock’s room and headed up to his old room which was now Hamish’s. He tiptoed up the stairs as quietly as he could and skipped the squeaky steps.
“Sssss.” He heard Sherlock say again.
John peaked in and saw Hamish sitting in Sherlock’s lap with Sherlock’s hands wrapped around him and supporting his back so he wouldn’t fall.
“Come on now. The snake is the easiest. Just go ‘ssss’.”
Hamish did produce a sound, but it was not ‘ssss’, it was more so ‘phbbbbst’.
John can’t help but laugh out loud at the look of frustration on Sherlock’s face.
Sherlock looked up. “John, something is wrong with Hamish.”
John walked in the room and stood next to the chair Sherlock and Hamish were in. “Nothing is wrong with him. He can sound like a duck. Can’t you, Hamish?”
Hamish nods. “Quack!”
“But he can’t hiss like a snake, John.” Sherlock frowned.
John smiled and patted Sherlock’s shoulder. “With time he will.” He bent over and swooped up Hamish making a ‘whoosh’ noise as he did. “I believe it is past someone’s bed time though.” John kissed Hamish’s nose. “Did dada read to you?” John looked down at the abandoned book on the floor, his question answered.
Sherlock picked up the book. “We were going to finish The Tiger Who Came to Tea from last night, but as you’re aware I became distracted.”
John placed Hamish in his crib, which they would soon have to change to a toddler bed, and picked up the book off the floor. He sat down carefully and leaned himself against Sherlock’s legs. “Let’s see,” he said. “Where did we leave off?”
“He had finished eating all of the sandwiches.”
The corners of John’s lips turned up at the thought that Sherlock could remember such a detail. “Yes, yes.” He cleared his throat and began to read.
“’And he still looked hungry so Sophie passed him the buns. But again the tiger didn’t eat just one bun. He ate all the buns on the dish. And he ate all the biscuits, and all the cake, until there was nothing left on the table.’”
“Mycroft.”
John hit Sherlock’s leg playfully and leaned his head back to look at Sherlock. “Don’t talk so badly about Uncle Mycroft in front of Hamish.”
Sherlock plucked the book out of John’s hand and began reading, “So Sophie’s mummy said, ‘Would you like a drink?’”
John felt Sherlock’s fingers start to play in his hair as he read the book from his lap. John closed his eyes; he listened to the sound of Hamish’s breathing evening out as he fell asleep and he listened to the velvety voice that talked of the tiger that came to tea.
“You put me to sleep up there.” John whispered to Sherlock.
Sherlock hummed and put his arm over John’s waist.
John smiled and scooted in closer, placing his head on Sherlock’s chest.
“Sherlock?”
“Hm?”
“What sound does a snake make?”
Sherlock shoved him gently and scoffed. “Shut up.”