Work Text:
“John, isn’t this exciting?! Our first case in months.”
John squeezed Sherlock’s hand encouragingly. They had actually been call on quite a few cases, but John didn’t want to be home alone with baby Hamish in his first few months. Finally, after much pleading, Sherlock had convinced his lover to give Mycroft, of all people, their son.
The man who single-handedly claimed to run the British government was left alone to watch Hamish alongside with his own old year old daughter, Emily.
”Details?”
Sherlock looked across the street - something that had taken John two months to instill in him - before dragging them across the busy road and underneath the yellow police tape. Near the front of the scene, the two men spotted Lestrade slipping on a pair of latex gloves.
“Double homicide. Owner claims to have come in this morning and find the victims slumped behind the counter in a pool of blood.”
Sherlock didn’t bother responding, instead approaching his brother in law and snatching up two more pair of gloves.
”Oh good, the freak is back.” Donovan sighed, patting him on the back sarcastically. “And you brought your husband? Wonderful.”
”Yes, quite. We would’ve been here earlier, but our son required attention from both fathers. I’m sure Greg has shown you five month old Hamish. He and John find it necessary to trade pictures on the daily.”
And with that, Sherlock entered the building with that maniac from he got whenever he was around a dead body.
-
“Death cause?”
John’s eyebrows furrowed as he got down to his knees and inspected each individually. First, he checked the neck, then the wrists, chest, and general lower body regions. With how common this had become, handling a body still felt like second nature.
”First one was definitely putting up a struggle when they were strangled, but they cause of death is blood loss. If you look, there is a knife wound that enters directly underneath the ribs and exists out from the other side. I assume whoever did this pulled the knife out and took it with them.”
”Gruesome,” Anderson commented, earning a glare from multiple officers. “But continue?”
”Second person had to be killed with a blunt force object. You don’t need an autopsy to see that. But I’d like to see a toxicology report because I think he was bludgeoned after he was poisoned.”
Sherlock looked giddy before storming off, probably to find somewhere quite to go to his “mind palace”.
They took this time to transport the bodies to St. Barts.
-
“Got anything, Sherlock?”
”I have three plausible ideas. The most likely one is— Mycroft?”
Lestrade’s eyes narrowed, “Are you implying that between a full schedule and a small child, my husband had time to kill?”
”No, I meant he’s here. With the children in tow, in fact.”
That got the attention of almost everyone. Everybody was craning their neck to see Mycroft Holmes pushing a double stroller over to them. Even from a distance, anyone could see a bored looking Emily and an irritated looked Hamish. He wasn’t currently crying or screaming, but he definitely looked like that was all he had been doing for the past hour.
Greg was the first to approach him, “‘Croft, babe, why are you here?”
”I don’t know how to properly take care of children. It’s out of my expertise, but I don’t trust anyone else.” He reached forward to unbuckle the little seatbelt and thrust Emily at her dad.
By the time he went to unbuckle Hamish, Sherlock had already swooped in and securely held him on his hip like he had seen John so many times.
”What have you done to my son?! He’s clearly irritated.”
”He wouldn’t eat. So I brought him to you.” He gave what would only be described as a mock loving gaze. “Plus we missed you.”
Sherlock snorted and watched John dig through his jacket pocket before he pulled out a dummy, wiped it off and stuck it in the baby’s mouth.
Almost as if he was a miniature Sherlock, baby Hamish sucked on the dummy while throwing dirty looks at his uncle.
It would’ve been hilarious if John was not lecturing Mycroft about bringing children to a double homicide while simultaneously plucking Hamish out of Sherlock’s arms to rub his back comfortingly.
Sherlock still let out a small laugh as John turned around to walk away with mumbling “I knew we should’ve left you with Mrs. Hudson. Now let’s get you to sleep, baby boy.”
-
“I’m confident that— Err, well, what I think is most plausible is that—“ Sherlock stumbled through some half assed explanation, sending constant glances at John who was playing with Hamish while Mycroft curiously stuck a bottle of warm milk into his own daughter’s mouth.
”Kids. They’re distracting, huh?” Lestrade chuckled, nudging Sherlock as the two watched Hamish squeeze John’s finger between his two hands and begin to giggle.
Sherlock sighed defeatedly, running his fingers through his own unruly hair “God, yes. Thanks to John, in theory I should still be able to focus on cases.”
Donovan snorted, her own arms crossed “Yeah? Looks like it. Face it, Sherlock. You’re just an average parent.”
”Yeah,” Sherlock agreed, his eyes seemed to be twinkling at the sight of his son giggling. “I suppose I am.”