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Sherlock opened his eyes and looked down at the foot of his bed. Sunlight was streaming into the room from the window and he was able to see brown hair and two deep blue eyes behind glasses staring back at him. Sherlock rolled onto his back as John mumbled something. He opened his eyes to see the same thing that Sherlock had seen.
Like any six year old Hamish was up and waiting for presents. John smiled as he sat slightly up on the bed as Hamish crawled from the foot of the bed and slid under the duvet between his Dad and Papa. He had his sonic in his hand as he curled up on his side and laid his thick brown hair on both John and Sherlock’s pillow.
Sherlock turned toward his son as he closed his eyes. He felt John’s breathing become regular as he two drifted back to bed. It was only 10; they didn’t need to get up. Ms. Hudson wasn’t going to come till later. They had a late night, Hamish had begged them to stay up and watch the Doctor Who Christmas Special which the three of them did. But after the past two days of hell the silence and just spending time, the three of them, was much needed and appreciated.
But Hamish being six, he grew impatient and after a half hour longer of having a lie in he got his Dad and Papa out of bed. Sherlock headed into the bathroom as John went with Hamish into the kitchen. John put the kettle on for coffee as Hamish ran over to the tree and began to sort the gifts.
Hamish made three piles, one for his Dad’s presents, and one for his Papa’s gifts and then one for his. While he did that Sherlock snuck down to Ms. Hudson’s to get the final gift for Hamish. John stood in the kitchen, his dressing gown on over his pajamas as he had a cup of coffee for him and Sherlock. After the presents were done, they would make the famous Watson Pancake Breakfast. Sherlock set the box down under the tree and Hamish looked at it, knowing he wasn’t allowed to touch it. Sherlock walked back into the kitchen and took his coffee from John. “How did you sleep?” he asked kissing him on the lips.
“Better than I have in a long time,” smiled Sherlock as he added sugar to his coffee. Once they were already they headed to the living room. Hamish was sitting on the ground next to his presents. Sherlock plopped down on the couch and John sat next to him, leaning against his body as Sherlock leaned against the arm of the couch.
Suddenly Hamish jumped up. “Wait!” he yelled putting a hand up to his Dad and Papa as he ran out of the room. They heard his feet taking the 20 steps that it took to get to his room. John and Sherlock waited as they headed him come running back down the worn white wooden 20 steps. As he came running into the room he had Arthur in one hand along with Bzz. He lined them up next to him and then smiled up at John and Sherlock. “Okay, ready.”
John chuckled as he leaned into Sherlock, resting his head on his husbands shoulder. Hamish began to tear into the gifts. He was excited for the new books he got. He then said he needed to figure out where to put them in his room for his shelves were already pretty full. He liked the new jeans he got as well as the few shirts he got. Hamish’s eyes lit up as he pulled out the Doctor Who sweatshirt he had been begging to get every day for the past few months.
Slipping on his sweatshirt over his head, Hamish pushed his falling glassed back up on his face as he looked at his Dad and Papa. He was waiting for them to tell him that he could open up his big gift. Sherlock turned to John, “I don’t know, maybe we should let him wait a bit longer. John do you want to open up your gifts now?” Sherlock asked as he saw Hamish cross his arms over his chest. Pouting just like his Papa did, but he sat there patiently as he wanted to John to make his decision.
“I think we have teased him long enough,” John said. Hamish shouted with glee and began to pull open the bow before he could fully get the lid off the box though, it began to move. Hamish let out a high giggle as he looked down at the Golden Dox which dawned a bright red bow on his collar. Picking him up he licked Hamish on all over the boy’s face as the dogs entire body wiggled with excitement.
“Hi boy,” Hamish squealed. “What do you think of the name Gladstone?”
The Golden Dox licked Hal’s face once more as Hamish’s giggles filled the flat of 221b.
“I think he likes the name a lot Hamish,” Sherlock told his son as he looked over at his Dad and Papa.
“Good. You will be Gladstone,” Hamish told him as he set Gladstone down on the ground and held up his bear and bee. John sat up ready to pounce incase Gladstone thought Hamish was offering him the toys to chew on. Hamish looked at him. “Gladstone these are mine. So no chewing on them.” Gladstone quitted down for a moment, gave the toys a curious sniff and ignored them in favor of turning to Sherlock and barking.
“Now Hamish, tomorrow we will go over the rule and responsibilities you have with Gladstone,” John told him as his son was beaming with joy.
Hamish agreed as Gladstone began to explore. “No pottying in the house,” Hamish told him with a stern voice. He then looked up at his Papa. “And no experimenting on him.” John looked at Sherlock and laughed as he rolled his eyes and poked John in his side. John hit his hand as Gladstone took a seat next to Hamish and rolled over on his back as the boy rubbed his stomach. “Dad it’s your turn!” Hamish said.
John picked up his first present, being from Hamish he did a good job wrapping it. Though it had a tab bit too much tape John said nothing but smiled as he opened it up. Unwrapping the gift he opened up a box and saw there was a jumper, similar to the one John had received early from Hamish. Except this one was an emerald green color. “It’s very pretty Hamish,” John said as he held the jumper up to his chest. “Thank you; I can always use new jumpers.” He glanced at Sherlock as he rolled his eyes and looked down at Gladstone.
“I picked the color, but Papa helped me find it.” He told his Dad.
Sherlock smiled, “You would have found the perfect one eventually. I just directed you towards the men’s jumpers.”
John set the jumper back in the box and looked at Sherlock, “Where was he looking?” he asked a little worried.
“Kids,” Sherlock replied to him. John laughed as he looked at Hamish who was talking to their new dog.
“Now open the one from Papa!” Hamish cried out.
John grabbed the smaller gift that was from Sherlock. He was a bit worried of what could be in the box. But he began to unwrap the gift that looked as if Hamish could have wrapped but John knew it was Sherlock’s wrapping. Pulling out a box, he opened the stop and there sitting on tissue paper was a business card.
Dr. John H. Watson, Private Practice. 221C Baker Street.
“Sherlock?” John asked as his voice rose he was worried. “What…” he stopped and looked down at the car and then back up at Sherlock, his eyes bright with excitement. “We can’t afford to rent that flat,” he left out the part they could barely make rent on this flat.
Sherlock rolled his eyes as he sat his coffee mug down on the coffee table. “It’s out of my savings and it’s not so much a gift as it is an investment,” Sherlock explained to him. “John, I think it would be good that one of us has a job that is somewhat stable. And by having it here, well someone would be home with Hamish.”
“Okay,” John said. “But if I’m not mistaken the flat down there is freezing and full of mold. We can’t afford to fix that up.”
“Again you may find that we can,” Sherlock told him as he pulled out an envelope from the pocket of his dressing gown. “I might have held back on how much we got paid for that case in New York.”
“And how much did you hold back on?” John asked as Sherlock handed him the envelope. John gasped when he opened it up and saw the amount. It was defiantly enough to fix up the little apartment downstairs, and enough to but all the appropriate equipment that would be needed. “You’re a bad, bad man Mr. Holmes,” John said kissing him. Hamish covered his eyes. He thought it was gross when his parents kissed, he was six John and Sherlock realized it was what they all did. Setting the check down on the coffee table, he cleared his throat and said, “Alright I think its Papa’s turn now.” Sherlock picked up the present that was from Hamish and unwrapped it.
He smiled as he pulled out a new scarf. “To replace the one you dipped in acid,” Hamish explained to him as Gladstone jumped into his lap and rolled over onto his back.
John shook his head. The fact that it seemed normal to just replace things that were ruined by a chemical explosion, or an experiment. Sherlock wrapped the deep purple scarf around his neck. “Perfect fit and I must say I do enjoy the color.”
“I got it because I know Dad’s favorite shirt you have is your purple one.”
“Oh, is that so John?” Sherlock asked turning to look at his husband.
“Yes you nutter,” giggled John as his ears turned red. “Now hurry up I’m hungry and want breakfast.” Sherlock smirked as he picked up John’s gift. Given John’s general aversion to dead things, such as limbs and eyeballs being in the flat Sherlock was shocked when he found a skull in the box. “Your old friend on the mantel was looking lonely.” He told him.
Sherlock flashed a genuine smile as he picked up the skull and began to examen it. Setting it back into the box, he sat it on the coffee table and kissed John softly on the lips as a thank you. “Since you are so hungry why don’t you start with breakfast,” Sherlock said as he stood up. “And Hal and I will take Gladstone around the block and see if he will go and do his jobs.”
Both boys bundled up in their winter coats and shoes. Sherlock put the new leash onto Gladstone as they headed down the steps and out the door. John got up from the couch, cleaning up the paper that was left from the gifts. Tossing it into the waste bin in the kitchen. By now John had mastered the art of making pancakes. Both his boys loved them and if they could they would eat them all day every day. Pulling out the necessary ingredients along with the blueberries, for Sherlock, and the chocolate chips, for himself and Hamish, John put on some Christmas music and began to cook.
“Yoohooo,” came a voice and a knock at the door in the kitchen. John turned to see Ms. Hudson in the doorway with a bag full of presents and a Christmas smile on her face.
“Just in time for breakfast,” John told her as he poured some batter into the hot pan. “Sherlock and Hamish are out walking Gladstone.” John put some chocolate chips on the pancakes as he waited to flip them. “Thank you again for making an exception for him and the other flat. I hope that you-”
Ms. Hudson sat the bag on the barstool and looked at John, “dearie the flat was a present and I won’t be discussing the amount with the recipient of the gift.” She laughed as she began to get the dishes out for them to eat. “Has he seen his new thing for the room?” she asked John as he put the pancakes into the dish.
“Nope,” he shook his head as he poured more batter into the pan. “Greg is bringing it over when he Sarah, Jeff and Molly come over for deserts and drinks tonight.” Once the table was set Sherlock came in carrying Gladstone, the dog looked dead. Hamish toed off his snow boots setting them by the door as he took of his coat and gloves and hat. Tucking those into the pockets of the coat and then hung it up. Setting Gladstone down he curled up in a ball as Sherlock hung up his coat and took off his shoes.
While they ate, they had Hamish put Gladstone in the pin they had set up with newspaper on the floor so in case he did have an accident he would be able to clean it up easily. Hamish went to the bathroom to wash up. Sherlock gave Ms. Hudson a side hug and kissed the top of her head as he took his seat next to John at the table.
Breakfast went smoothly. Once they were done Sherlock and Hamish cleaned up the mess and Ms. Hudson then kicked them out of the kitchen to begin making there Boxing Day dinner. Hamish put the third part of the three day Doctor Who marathon on the telly as he, his Dad and Papa played with the new addition to the Watson-Holmes family. Hamish was determined to teach Gladstone how to sit.
John looked up on the coffee table to see that he had a missed call. He didn’t even listen to it as he deleted it from his parent’s. The outside world was not going to get into their Christmas. Not today. As it grew closer to 5, Hamish went into the kitchen to set the table. John and Sherlock headed into to help as well.
Once the table was set for four, with plates, knives, forks, napkins, wine glasses and the food sat in the middle they heard the doorbell ring. Hamish looked up and ran down the steps. Gladstone right on his heels. John poured the wine in each glass, putting grape juice in their sons when they heard Hamish yell. “Uncle Myccy!” John said nothing, for he knew not of this and by the look on Sherlock’s face he had no idea either. Setting the wine on the table John half expect Sherlock to throw a fit and kick his brother out. But as he walked into the kitchen, followed by Hamish and Gladstone, Sherlock shook his brothers’ hand.
John watched at this interaction. Never once had he seen the Holmes brothers act the way they were now. Pressing his lips together he waited to see what was going to come from his. Hamish pulled on his uncle’s gray suit trousers as Mycroft lifted Hamish up and kissed the boy on his nose. “Would the world explode if you stayed for dinner?” Sherlock asked him.
Mycroft smiled, “Well I suppose the final touches for a few his security projects won’t suffer if I stay for an hour or two.”
Sherlock walked into the living room to grab a chair, as he walked in he smiled and made a snide remark. “Your diet might suffer.”
“Boys,” John said trying to stop a row before one broke out. “I want a nice civil dinner, with homemade food and without any rows. I have had enough fighting to last me a while.” John explained as he looked at dinner. Since they never had a proper dinner Ms. Hudson had made up one for them. She had made a glazed roast Ham for them along with Brussels sprouts gratin with bacon, cream and almonds. She had also made Yorkshire pudding along with roasted potatoes. She had made a small amount of pasta for John, due to the fact he was a vegetarian.
Hamish was about to pile his plate when he stopped and let Ms. Hudson go first. She thanked him kindly and put her dinner on her plate. Once she was done Hamish went for it as John and Sherlock watched to make sure their son’s eyes weren’t bigger than his stomach. Once everyone had their plates full of food they began to eat.
“Uncle Myccy?” he asked as John cut up his ham for him. “Where is Auntie?”
“She is out saving the country,” Mycroft told him as he took a sip of his wine. “But, she asked me to give this to you.” Mycroft leaned over and pulled out another package for Hamish.
Hamish looked at his Dad and Papa to see if it was okay for him to open it up at the dinner table. John turned to Sherlock who shrugged. Smiling John nodded his head and Hamish eagerly tore open the package. As the paper fell to the ground Hamish held a book in his hand, his eyes read over the cover in his head before he opened his mouth and read out loud, “What Makes an Aeroplane Fly,” he said with a smile.
John looked over as Hamish opened up the book to take a look at it, “That was very sweet of Anthea to do that,” John told Mycroft. He knew what they would be reading tonight before bed.
Mycroft nodded, “She has a big heart. Makes up for my lack of one I say,” he explained to John and Sherlock.
Sherlock shifted in his chair as he took John’s hand and gave it three squeezes. He knew what that was like.
Once dinner finished, Mycroft bid his brother, John, Ms. Hudson and his nephew goodbye. John kicked Ms. Hudson out of the kitchen as he roped Sherlock into helping him clean up. They had to get the glasses and drinks out for then everyone stopped by, as well as get out the deserts that were marked and counted in the fridge so not to lose some of them to the two sticky fingers when it came to sweats.
Hamish headed up to his room to add his new book to his ever growing collection of them. He stood in his room and looked, trying to figure out how to get the book to fit in. There was no way unless he was to take them all out, and he knew his Dad wouldn’t like that so he sat the book on the bedside table and headed back down to the living room. “Papa, I can’t fit any more books in my room.” Hamish explained to him as he knelt down and began to pet the sleeping puppy.
Sherlock stole a glance at John and then turned to his son. “Don’t worry about it Hamish. We’ll go looking for a bigger bookshelf after the new year.”
Hamish took that as a suitable answer as he grabbed the telly remote and put Doctor Who back on. Ms. Hudson didn’t mind to watch it as Hamish climbed into John’s seat, his eyes glues to the telly. After an hour, the kitchen was all cleaned and ready for the rest of the friends to come over.
John had put a note on the door for everyone to just come on in. As soon as he put the last desert on the table he heard a knock and turned around to see Molly was the first to arrive. Smiling as she entered the flat she sat the bag of gifts down on the ground as she took her coat off. John grinned when he realized she was wearing an outfit much more modest than her first Christmas outfit with them nearly 10 years ago. She had stuck with black trousers with a green button up cardigan over a black shirt.
Hamish turned off the telly as he got up from his Dad’s chair Gladstone raised his head and wagged his tale and Hamish walked over to his Aunt, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He then looked at her cocking his head a little. “Are you going on a date Aunt Molly?” he asked her.
Molly bit the bottom lip and looked at the ground.
“Hamish,” John said reprimanding him. He had the same impulse control Sherlock had when it came to speaking things that were on his mind.
“He is right thought-” Sherlock said as he walked into the living room handing Ms. Hudson a glass of wine. “You have dressed up, but not too much so you have been dating him awhile… he works with bodies like you do. You like him for you haven’t introduced us to him for fear of what I would do… or say.”
“He is a paramedic,” Molly told him as John walked to get her a glass of wine. “His name is Chris and yes I am keeping him away from you for that sole reason.”
“Why?” Hamish asked as he turned his head and looked at Molly. John headed back into the living room, handing Molly her glass as she took a seat on the arm of John’s chair.
“Because your dads always run them off…” She explained looking at Hamish.
“Hey,” John laughed as he looked at Molly. “Don’t include me in his shenanigans,” he protested.
“It’s just as much your fault as it is his!” Molly smiled though, despite her words. “What about Geoffrey?” Molly asked raising her eyebrow.
“Married,” Sherlock reminded her as he took a seat on the couch and pulled John alongside of him.
“Kyle?”
John pressed his lips together, “malpractice,” he remembered.
“Aaron?”
“Identity fraud,” Sherlock pointed out as he pointed a long slim finger at her.
“Ethan?” she asked him as she took a sip of her wine.
“He was just a general creeper Molly,” Sherlock explained as John remembered that man and nodded his head in agreement with Sherlock on that one.
“Okay, Paul?”
“Married, three kids,” Sherlock told her. “Plus he had killed his last 3 wives.”
Molly tried to suppress her giggle, “Point is that I’m really sure about this one.”
Sherlock looked at John, “To be sure we must meet him.” He pointed out to her. Molly shook her head, there was no way she was going to let them loose on Chris.
“They have a point dear. They do it for they care,” Ms. Hudson said as she looked at her boys. Molly knew this was true, in the weird way they did care about her and her wellbeing and who she ended up with.
There was a slight knock on the door as Sarah walked in hand in hand with her new husband Jeff. “Aunt Sarah, Uncle Jeff,” Hamish said as he got up and pointed to Gladstone. “I got a dog!”
Sarah looked at John as he stood up to get their coats and shake hands with Jeff. “I see your Dad’s caved then.” She laughed kneeling down to embrace Hamish.
Sherlock stood up; he greeted Sarah and Jeff with a warm smile and showed them were the deserts and drinks were.
“How is the detective business going?” Jeff asked as John took their coats and hung them up.
“Dull… no one is creative at killing people at Christmas time,” Sherlock told him with a roll of the eyes.
“And that is where that conversation ends,” Sarah interjected before Sherlock could go any further and Jeff would ask a stupid question. “Who wants pudding?”
“Is it the good kind?” Hamish asked as Sarah stood up and headed into the kitchen with Hamish.
Sherlock leaned into John, “Has Lestrade texted you yet?” he asked him. John pulled out his phone to check it, as he did he saw that Lestrade just sent him a message.
“Better get going on that walk, we can’t have Hal see,” John said as he kissed Sherlock on the side of his mouth as he leaned away from his husband.
“Come on Hal,” Sherlock told him as he walked to the door and took his coat off the hook. “We better take Gladstone out for another walk for him to do his jobs.” Hamish looked at his Papa and then down at his bowl of pudding. Pressing his lips together he sat the bowl on the kitchen table, adjusted his glasses and walked over to slip on his boots.
Once both of them were all bundled up Sherlock hooked the leash onto Gladstone’s collar and he headed down the steps with his son. John waited for the door to close and then counted to 30, Sarah, Molly and Ms. Hudson headed up to Hamish’s room. They began to take out all the books that were, quite literally shoved to the capacity in his shelf.
“Where did he get this love for reading?” Molly asked as she made another pile of books.
“Sherlock and I would read to him when he was younger and he never let it go, he still likes when we sit in his room, build a fort and read,” John told them as he walked around the piles of books and over to the side of the empty case. “Ready?” he asked as Jeff handed Molly his suit jacket and walked over to pick up the other side.
“What are you going to do with that?” Sarah asked as John and Jeff picked up the case and headed toward the door.
“It’s going into my new office,” John explained to her as they turned out of the doorframe and he began to walk backwards down the steps. “Sherlock has invested as he said,” John said as he waited for Jeff to walk down a few steps before moving again. “In my own private practice.”
Molly laughed and Sarah agreed with her, “He would,” Molly joked.
Once they got to 221c it was smooth sailing they had only one more flight. Setting it in the middle of the damp and mold infested basement, John saw the potential and the ‘investment’ but it was more than that. Sherlock knew that was what John always wanted to do, but never would take money that could have been put towards Hamish to do so.
Climbing back up the steps to the main level John saw the door open as Lestrade brought in the new bookcase which was on a dolly to make it easy to move. “Christ this thing is heavy,” he said sitting it down. “Can’t you get him like a game system like most six year olds want?”
“Since when was Hamish like most six year olds?” John asked as he shook Greg’s hand and wished him a Happy Christmas. “Okay, let’s get this up we don’t have time to gab.” John and Jeff took the top of the shelf as they headed back up the four flights of steps.
Molly, Sarah and Ms. Hudson supervised while Jeff, John and Greg maneuvered tight corners and wiggled the massive bookcase into Hamish’s room. “Where did Sherlock get this thing anyway?” Jeff asked as they sat it down before heading up the last two flights of steps.
“A friend,” John explained as he rolled his left arms. He was going to pay for that later.
“You learn to stop asking questions,” Lestrade clarified as they picked up the bookcase and headed up the final leg of the climb.
Eventually they made it to Hamish’s bedroom and set the bookcase up. Sarah, Molly and Ms. Hudson then began to refill it, with Hamish’s books. “When he outgrows this stuff, don’t call me to help you move this,” Lestrade laughed as he wiped his brow free from sweat.
Heading back now-SH
Stall for five more minutes – John
John could see Sherlock rolling his eyes as he texted back his answer. John waited to see what he was going to tell him to do.
How?-SH
John chuckled as he typed out to him.
I have faith in you-John
Once everything was set they made their way back down to the living room, taking their seats as John got a drink of scotch for both he and Sherlock. Jeff made himself a drink and then went to sit down next to Sarah on the couch.
“This dog needs to learn how to walk better,” Sherlock said as his voice grew closer.
“I’ll train him,” Hamish promised his father. As they got back into the flat Sherlock set the tired out Gladstone on the floor, unfashioning his leash the dog laid down there and closed his eyes. “Uncle Lestrade!” Hamish called out and then stopped as she toes off his boots and took off his coat dropping it on the ground. “When did you get here?” he asked him as Sherlock picked Hamish’s coat up and hung it up for him.
“When you left,” he laughed. “I must say I do love the dog.”
John said nothing as Sherlock rolled his eyes at Lestrade and his snide comment about getting a small dog. “Well, since Molly has to abandon us early,” John said handing Sherlock his scotch. “Why don’t we get to work on opening up some gifts.”
Everyone opened presents at the same time and while some were conventional: a new cookbook for John from Sarah ( she was determined to teach him to cook more than breakfast food.) Others were less conventional such as the free reign in the morgue certificate Molly gave Sherlock. Some were extravagant: John and Sherlock’s gift to Ms. Hudson, a cruise around the European waterways with a friend of her choice. (The bill partially footed by Mycroft.) Others were more humble: the paper mace photo frame Hamish made for Lestrade. But the gifts were all give with love and were appreciated for what they were. Symbols of affection and family.
Lastly Ms. Hudson handed Hamish a lumpy wrapped present. Hamish opened it up curiously and gasped in surprise as he looked down at it and cried out, “It’s a TARDIS blanket!” he eagerly spread it out for the others to see. They all oohed and awed for a bit till they heard up stairs a noise.
Woo-oosh, woo-oosh.
Hamish’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses as he pulled out his sonic, jumped up to his feet and went tearing up the steps to see what was going on. Everyone got up and followed Hamish up the steps as they heard a high cry and giggles from a six year old that stood staring at his new bookcase, his head tilted back a little to admire it.
But this was not ordinary bookcase, it was the bluest of blues, and was far bigger on the inside than others. Hamish turned around and ran to his Papa and Dad, wrapping his arms around their legs almost knocking them over.
Sherlock picked up his son as he looked at him and he had the biggest smile plastered on his face. “Thank you,” he said looking at Sherlock as he wrapped his arms around his neck and gave him a big squeeze. Hamish then leaned over and hugged his Dad around the neck as well.
Sherlock set Hamish back on the ground as he walked over to Ms. Hudson and wrapped his arms around her legs and hugged her. “Thank you for the blanket grandma.” Mrs. Hudson’s hands fluttered to her face as she tried to hold back the tears as she leaned over and hugged Hamish.
“Hamish, why did you call her grandma?” Sherlock asked him.
Hamish looked at his Dad, as if the answer was obvious and he was just too stupid to understand it. “Grandmas are supposed to love you. Ms. Hudson loves me, I know for she not only tells me all the time but she shows me that she does by what she does for me.” Hamish explained to his Dad’s and everyone else in his room. “Grandma’s are supposed to love my parents. She does. But she also feeds us, she watches me when you have to chase a bad guy and Dad is at work. She goes to get groceries for us, and she washes our cloths and bed sheets. So she is a grandma.” Hamish looked at John. “Not your mom and dad,” he then looked at Sherlock. “And not your parents either.”
“Mrs. H-” John tried to speak but she hushed him.
Ms. Hudson knelt down; he placed a hand on the side of Hamish’s face as a tear fell down her face. He was afraid that he did something wrong, but when she smiled he wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. “I am honored to be a grandmother to such a brilliant boy, who has the heart of his Dad and the mind of his Papa,” she kissed Hamish on the top of his head as he wrapped his arms around her neck. John looked over to see that everyone had tears in their eyes. Even Lestrade had to look away not to show that he two was crying.
~~~
John shut Hamish’s bedroom door, he was in his new pajamas wrapped up in his new TARDIS blanket as he held onto his polar bear and bee. His Sonic sat on his bedside table ready to be used in case the aliens showed up.
John yawned as he walked down the steps. It had been a trying past three days. He walked into the living room turning off the lights walking past the wrapping paper Gladstone had torn up. Walking into the kitchen he ignored the dishes and cups in the sink and the wastebasket that was full of garbage. John made his way down the small hall and into his room.
Sherlock was already in his pajamas, lying on his back his phone held out above him as this thumbs raced over the touch screen. Stripping down to his pants and gray vest John crawled into bed. Pulling out his computer, he pulled up the tab with his blog page on it.
Today, my son thought seven grown adults that family isn’t defined by blood, but by the people who are there for you. Love you. Who want the best for you. So on this Boxing Day I am here to write that I am more than happy for my unorthodox family. I don’t think I would want it any other way.
Hitting the post button, John shut his laptop and set it on the floor. He leaned over and kissed Sherlock on the temple of his head as he rolled over onto his right side. Shutting off the lamp on the bedside table. The only light was from the faint flow of Sherlock’s phone screen. Pulling up John’s blog Sherlock smiled, hitting the comment button he typed.
Neither would I.
Locking his phone he set it down on the bedside table near him. Rolling over into John’s body he wrapped his arms around him, lying his head on his back he soon fell asleep to the steady breathing of John.