Sherlock stomped around the crime scene. It was ridiculous. Lestrade didn't need him. This murder was incredibly obvious. Even if the Yard only managed to gather about half the evidence available to them, they still had plenty to convict the correct person, with proper motive. He needn't be here.
Sherlock was about to yell nasty things at Anderson for nearly stepping into an obvious clue when he felt his phone vibrate. Seeing that it was John, he opened the text.
What have you done? –JW
Sherlock paused and quickly searched his mind palace. He hadn't done anything out of, his very loose definition, the ordinary. He typed back: Have I done something wrong? –SH
He pocketed his phone and buried his head in his hands; Anderson stepped in the clue when he wasn't looking. This evening was going from bad to atrocious at an alarming pace. "Anderson, you've just stepped in a fairly important clue that I thought even you might be able to recognize. "
"No I haven't," Anderson whined. He opened his mouth to continue when Sherlock felt his phone vibrate again. He held out one finger to Anderson and read John's text.
Hamish has arranged his soft toys into a crime scene. –JW
The corner of Sherlock's mouth twitched into a smile briefly. Before he could type a reply a second text came in.
Wonder where he gets these ideas. –JW
Sherlock grinned and wrote back: This is somehow my fault? –SH
He puts his phone away again, focusing on his task. Anderson turned to him. "Something funny, freak?"
"Oh, nothing you could comprehend I'm sure," Sherlock muttered under his breath.
"What's the hell is that supposed to mean?" Anderson said walking toward Sherlock.
"I hope you're happy knowing you're destroying even more evidence," Sherlock replied frankly and backing up slightly, no matter how high John's spirits, fighting with Anderson would dampen them.
"I am not!" Anderson shouted, he stamped his foot .
Sherlock cringed visibly as he saw the evidence float away. "Is there dirt under your feet?"
"There's always dirt under my feet."
"Then you're destroying evidence." Sherlock was about to continue when John's next text came through.
He's 5. He shouldn't be thinking about murder, no matter how much we talk about it. Oh, yep he just called the dinosaur an idiot. Definitely a crime scene. -JW
Sherlock couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. Yet another text came through.
By the way, where did he learn the word 'idiot?' –JW
Anderson was glaring at him. Giggling at crime scenes was still highly discouraged, especially since Sherlock and John had decided to become parents.
"I said what's so funny you freak?" Anderson said giving him the stink eye. Sherlock merely rolled his eyes and wrote back to John.
Anderson is eyeing me suspiciously. We already discussed that you wouldn't distract me at a scene. –SH
Sherlock turned to the forensics man. "It's none of your concern."
"Oh?" Anderson asked. Before he could launch into what would inevitably be an ineffective tirade he was called to another part of the crime scene just as a text from John came through.
Yes, but there's a crime scene in the house too, so the rule is null and void. –JW
Sherlock grinned again. John's logic was…Not sound per se, but he liked it. Another text quickly followed.
Apparently I have to be Hamish's crime solving assistant too. –JW
Sherlock laughed loudly at this, raising the suspicion of not only Anderson, but several other members of the Yard as well. He schooled his face back into unamused flatness.
The role suits you. He's very clever to have picked up on that. –SH
Sherlock looked up from his phone to see Anderson closer than he had been before. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be investigating," the rat-like man sneered.
"No, that's your job." Sherlock replied. "I'm supervising."
"You shouldn't even be here, we can handle this case ourselves you know."
Sherlock's jaw dropped in mock shock. "Even a broken clock is right twice a day. " Sherlock quickly walked away as he received yet another text.
This is so adorable. Is that bad to think this is adorable? You'd be so proud. It's funny. Still, he shouldn't know these things, but honestly I'm just glad he's held out for five years without bringing death into the equation. –JW
Sherlock smiled again. His heart ached to be home, but he wasn't allowed to leave the crime scene yet. Part of John's deal with Lestrade.
"Who the hell do you keep texting?" Anderson asked indignantly.
Sherlock rolled his eyes, "If you can't figure it out there is no hope for you." His phone vibrated again.
...Oh god. He's interrogating your skull. –JW
Sherlock made a high pitched sound. He looked around the scene for a familiar grey haired man to get him out of this pointless investigation.
"Did you just whine at your phone?" Anderson asked.
"No. Now stop asking stupid questions and find Lestrade." Sherlock simply had to get home to see this. The case at home was already proving to be far more entertaining.
"I'm not telling you," Sherlock said indignantly.
"I'm not dignifying that with a response," Sherlock shook his head dismissively. He typed quickly on his phone.
Take pictures. –SH
"I'm not finding Lestrade for you," Anderson said behind him.
"No matter, I'll find him myself, in half the time." Sherlock replied walking briskly out of the room.
"Yeah right," he mutters. "Why do you need him anyway?"
"Why do you keep probing into things that are none of your concern?"
"You're acting weird at a crime scene, it's my job."
"You're an idiot, does that make it my job to spoon feed you everything?" Sherlock huffed. He felt his phone go off in his hand.
You kidding? I've been filming the whole thing. -JW
Sherlock sighed, relieved. "Oh thank God."
Anderson took a deep breath. "Christ, do I even want to know?"
Sherlock turned around. "Finally an intelligent question. The answer is no by the way." Sherlock paused thoughtfully. "At least I hope so. I'd be even more cross if you did want to know." Sherlock typed pointedly on his phone.
Anderson keeps staring at me. –SH
Hurry on home then. The dead teddy bear has got to be more entertaining. –JW
Sherlock smiled again. John had no idea how much more interesting Hamish's investigation was. He continued his scan for Lestrade. Not finding him in this area he quickly texted back.
Agreed. I don't know why I'm here. –SH
Sherlock continued to storm through the house of the victim, not finding the Detective Inspector anywhere. He thought he caught a glimpse of him when his phone went off again.
The skull is failing to produce a convincing alibi. –JW
Sherlock growled in frustration. If his skull was going to be convicted of murder by his son he wanted to see it and not be stuck at a crime scene with Anderson following him around, sticking his big nose into everything.
"Oi, Sherlock!" a familiar voice called. "Come here." Sherlock immediately followed the sound of Lestrade's voice while texting.
I really would like to pummel Lestrade for making me take up this case. -SH
"What is it Lestrade?" Sherlock asks as he strolls up to the Detective Inspector.
"What do you make of this?" He said pointing to a minute blood spatter in the bathroom.
"Irrelevant." Sherlock sniffs. "May I go home now?"
Lestrade sighed, "Explain." Sherlock opened his mouth but Lestrade continued, "The blood spatter, preferably."
Sherlock felt his phone go off, but he ignored it. "The blood spatter is far too old for the murder." When Lestrade and Anderson stared at him blankly he rolled his eyes and continued, "The victim has a teenage daughter who primarily uses this bathroom. Judging by the kit in her room she was a footballer. The blood could have come from any number of injuries." Sherlock's phone vibrated yet again.
Detective Inspector Lestrade seemed to accept Sherlock's logic. He nodded. "That makes sense."He stood up from his crouched position. "Now why do you need to leave?"
"You don't need me. You've managed to figure out the gardener murdered Mrs. Cunningham because—"
"No. That's why you want to leave, why do you need to leave?" Lestrade asked.
Sherlock huffed. He stepped closer to the DI and said quietly, "Hamish. He's not in danger, he's with John, but he's doing something…"
Lestrade nodded understandingly. "Go on then."
Sherlock gave a curt nod and ran out of the scene. He picked out his phone of his pocket right as a third text came through. He quickly read them all.
Have you made him more angry than normal lately? –JW
Apparently the skull had an accomplice. We're trying to find them. –JW
This is all really complex for a five year old. What have you two been doing while I'm at work? –JW
Sherlock hopped in excitement. An accomplice! Oh John was right! This was startlingly complex, even for Hamish. It was remarkable. He ran out to the main road and hailed a cab. He texted back:
Only what the guide books you showed me instructed. –SH
He climbed into the second available cab and gave his address to the driver. The cabbie sped along the London streets. It wasn't too terribly far from the flat, but not enough to walk. He allowed himself to get distracted from the drive and focus on his phone.
...And how did you interpret them? –JW
I've managed to slip away. I'm in a cab, now. Don't discourage him! I want to witness at least some of this. –SH
Trust me I haven't discouraged anything, in fact it might be called encouraging. Is that bad parenting? Oh! Someone has killed the stuffed dinosaur when it was left at the crime scene! –JW
Who cares about bad parenting? This is brilliant! I'm hurrying as fast as I can. You will pay for your teasing later. –SH
While I don't consider this teasing, I'm going to hold you to your promise. –JW
Apparently the skull and the unknown accomplice are hit men. Still trying to find said accomplice. –JW
Sherlock felt the cab pull up in front of 221B Baker street. He pushed money at the cabbie, enough to express a wordless thanks for getting him home quickly. He ran to the door of the building and fumbled with his key. Once inside, Sherlock bounded up the stairs and threw open the door of the flat.
Inside the flat looked like a crime scene and police station, which unless one knew what had been happening no one would know there was a difference in what their flat looked like. Batman was stood in Sherlock's chair. Hamish was bent over the caped crusader, shining a torch in his face. "Tell us Batman, how do you explain the dirt on your cape that matches the crime scene of the dinosaur's murder? And don't say you were investigating it." Dirt samples! This… This was incredible.
Sherlock quickly removed his coat and shoes and joined John on the couch, taking extra care not to bump the coffee table where both the murder victims were laid out. Sherlock leaned over and quickly planted a kiss on John's cheek. John quickly turned away from his recording to kiss Sherlock properly. "Apparently, Batman was the accomplice. Neither he nor the skull have ratted out their boss yet."
Hamish stumbled back slightly, gaping at the toy in the leather arm chair. The torch fell into the chair as well. He quickly wheeled around and stalked toward the couch. "Papa!" Hamish cried, "You did it!"
Sherlock and John froze. Sherlock watched as John bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He turned slowly back to Hamish. He raised an eyebrow, "I did what, Hamish?"
Hamish walked closer, standing on the other side of the coffee table. "You are the one who hired Batman and the skull to kill the bear and the dinosaur."
Sherlock heard John fight back another round of giggles. He shot him a glare before turning back to Hamish. He took a deep breath before asked coolly, "What is your evidence?"
Hamish climbed onto the coffee table so he could look his fathers in the eye. He jutted out his chin, causing some of his dark curls to fall into his face. He huffed them out of the way and began. "It's obvious really." He said in a perfect imitation of Sherlock's tone. "You are often seen in the company of the skull, so it is obvious you two work together. Second, Batman is also a detective, the world's greatest, so again, you two work together."
Hamish began to pace on the small wooden table. Sherlock noticed John shoot him a half-hearted glare for teaching their son his bad habit of walking all over furniture, regardless of actual use. "You started your murder spree with the teddy bear because it was a gift from Uncle Mycroft and in your twisted mind it obviously had to go. And the dinosaur was murdered because Papa finds dinosaurs useless and unnecessary but secretly thinks they're cool and is jealous that I have one."
Sherlock was briefly reminded of his time at Buckingham Palace. He knew if he even so much as glanced at his husband they'd be done for. But…one brief look couldn't hurt, could it?
John's whole body began to tremble as he bit his lips in an effort to stifle his laughter. Sherlock was not so fortunate. He grins broadly and chuckles despite himself. Hamish really was getting to be quite clever. Sherlock knelt in front of Hamish and bowed his head, "You win Hamish. I was the one who was behind it all." His smile turned sinister. "And now I'm going to get you!" Sherlock leaped forward and grabbed Hamish, tickling the boy's sides .
"Papa stop!" Hamish shrieked in-between giggles. Sherlock paused, only to continue when Hamish had nearly recovered from the first tickle attack. Hamish tried to squirm out of the way. "Daddy, make him stop!"
"Why should daddy help you, Hamish?" Sherlock asked as he moved down to the boy's feet, his most ticklish spot.
"Because he's my assistant!" Hamish shrieked and kicked futilely at Sherlock, trying to get his feet away.
"He was my assistant first!" Sherlock stated. Grabbing Hamish by the ankle and tickling him mercilessly.
Sherlock heard John put the camera down. "I'm both your assistants." He clarified, resting a hand on Sherlock's shoulder, "But… Papa's funnier when he's tickled." John said, tackling Sherlock to the ground.
John pinned Sherlock as he and Hamish began a merciless tickle attack. Hamish jumped in and began tickling Sherlock as well.
The world's only consulting detective twisted and squirmed but he could not escape the ex-army doctor and the miniature detective. When the two and a half men of Baker Street had collapsed into a laughing, shuddering heap the tickle attack finally ended.
Surprisingly, John was the first to get his breath back. "The Case of the Teddy Interrogation has to go on the blog," He said between breaths.
Hamish jumps up in excitement, bouncing from foot to foot. "Ooh! Can it? Can it? Please!" he whined.
Sherlock shifted uncomfortably. "John…" Sherlock knew it would end up on John's personal blog, not the public one but the idea of a video of him laughing and being tickled available to his friends was unthinkable.
Hamish grabbed the lapels of Sherlock's suit jacket. "Oh please papa! All of your cases get put on the blog. Aren't you proud of my detecting?" Hamish asked quietly.
Sherlock sighed defeated. "I'm very proud. Someday you'll be as good as I am. It will go on the blog."
Hamish's face lit up and he jumped up and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck. "Oh thank you papa!" He saw John smile over Hamish and step closer. "Group hug," the boy declared before John wrapped his arms around the two skinny geniuses.