Sitting Sherlock --Part 2
Title: Sitting Sherlock --Part 2
Fandom: Sherlock
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor, fun, fluff
Word count: 1,531
Summary: Sherlock. As a baby sitter. Perhaps not the best idea. (Now featuring 100% more children!)
Read Part 1.
They were scheduled to arrive early afternoon. Sherlock spent the majority of the morning in his bedroom, staying out of the way of John’s hoover and duster. John set about making last preparations for their guests and being generally aflutter about their arrival. Sherlock suspected he was most worried about the impression his flat mate would make on the family then whether the pillows were straight.
But despite John’s worries, they still showed up. The doorbell rang and John rushed down the steps, calling, “Sherlock, they’re here!” Sherlock couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He’d been watching his colleague’s family clambering out of the taxi for several minutes before the bell even rang. Harry was the easiest to recognize, with the same eyes as John and sandy blonde hair that flopped around her shoulders. Even the same smile.
Clara had been next to exit. She was slender, composed and had her mahogany brunette strands pulled back in a tight ponytail. A beautiful woman, but deep lines of continued anxiousness were beginning to become a permanent fixture of her face. She shared a look with her partner, but Harriet offered a reassuring smile and words of encouragement. After them, a boy leapt from the cab. He was a bundle of ginger and freckled energy, nearly bowling over three people in his haste to ring the bell of 221 Baker Street. Clara was shouting at him to apologize as Harry helped the last one from the vehicle.
Their daughter was the younger sibling, petite and frail looking. Sherlock shifted the curtain he spied through to get a better glimpse. The girl shared similarities with Clara, the same hair and eye shape. Obviously related. Now that was interesting, considering the family dynamics. Yet what caught Sherlock’s attention the most were the scars. They peaked out from the neck of the child’s shirt, trailing towards the bottom of her skull. The thin patches of hair did little to hide them, at least from Sherlock’s observant gaze.
But then John’s shouting interrupted any further spying and courtesy insisted Sherlock introduce himself to those he’d been watching. Well, at least John insisted upon it, courtesy was not a mistress Sherlock cared much to obey. As if to prove it true, he waited before finally joining the others. Hugs and squeals of laughter had begun to die down by then and the motley group had moved into the sitting room.
“Ah, there you are. Clara, Harriett, this is Sherlock Holmes.” John waved his hand between them. Clara was the first to extend her hand, offering a smile but gazing at him with certain wariness in her eyes. Apparently John had told them about his flat mate. Harriett was more jovial in her greeting, shaking his hand rigorously and grinning, “So this is the famous detective! It’s great to finally meet you. I feel like I should be asking for your autograph or something.”
Sherlock allowed a thin-lipped smile before extracting his hand back. “Yes, a pleasure. John has told me about you as well.” He decided not to bring up the fact that John’s few mentions usually involved her nasty drinking habit and a hint of resentment. However, going by the bags beneath the woman’s eyes, she had been following through on her plan to give up on alcohol altogether.
“Oh? Hopefully he says the same great things about me as he does about you.”
“Well-“
“And these are the kids!” John interrupted, shooing forward his niece and nephew and giving Sherlock a look that he was not to answer Harriet’s question. At least not truthfully. John rested a hand on his niece’s head, as she remained half hidden behind his legs, “This here is Clover. She’s six. Can you say hello to Uncle Sherlock, sweetheart?”
Before the girl could reply, her brother bounded up to Sherlock, “Uncle Sherlock? I thought Mum said you had a girlfriend!” He looked suspiciously at John, then leaned close to Sherlock and whispered, “I think he might be having an affair.”
Harriet snorted, “You twonk! Where do you come up with this stuff?” She took the boy and wrestled him into a headlock. John seemed more concerned that his nephew understand, “No, no, no. We aren’t together. He’s my flat mate. And we work together. Just call him Mr. Sherlock. Yeah, that’s better, Mr. Sherlock. I just meant uncle as in-oh never mind.”
He paused as Clover tugged on his trousers until he bent down to her level. She whispered loudly, “Uncle John, I’m six and a half.” John smiled at the child, “Right. Sorry.” He glanced at Sherlock, “She’s six and a half.”
“I heard.”
“And the one being abused by his mother is Jack. He’s eleven.”
“Eleven and three quarters!”
“Oh hush you!” Harriet ruffled his hair soundly before laughing and releasing him. “They aren’t normally this silly,” Clara told Sherlock, “They’re just excited to see their Uncle John.”
Harriett grinned before taking a glance at her watch, “Well, we need to be leaving soon if we’re to catch our flight. I’m sure Clara would rest easier if we could have a quick tour of the place before jetting off.” Clara smiled appreciatively at her partner and squeezed the woman’s arm, “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind John. And we can go over their schedule and such.”
Before any objections could be made, it was just Sherlock and the two children left in the room. They stared at one another for several long moments. Clover stayed close to her brother’s side, fidgeting at the sleeves of her cardigan. Jack seemed to be sizing him up. He nodded at the back wall; “Someone drew a happy face on the wall.
“I’m an artist in my free time.”
“You aren’t a very good one. And I thought Mum said you are a police officer.”
“Consulting detective, actually.”
“So you solve mysteries, like the detectives on the telly?”
“Except I’m better and smarter than those fictional characters. And the real ones, for that matter.”
Clover, feeling somewhat left out of the conversation, pointed at Sherlock’s art. “There are holes in the wall.”
“I get bored easily. Like now.” He strode across the room to the desk, flipping open John’s computer. The idea of sharing the house with these children was beginning to look less promising, and it had looked bleak from the start. He would need a distraction and soon.
Jack trailed after him and peered over his shoulder, “What’s the Science of Deduction?” Sherlock twisted his chair and the computer flush against the wall, but it didn’t seem to deter the boy as he had hoped. Jack apparently found Sherlock to be fascinating and would not be shaken so easily. He stood by the man’s arm, rolling a pen back and forth across the desk. “I want to be a doctor like Uncle John. Help people and stuff. That’s kind of what you do, right? Help people?”
“If its interesting, yes.”
“What if its boring?”
“That’s what the conventional officers are for.”
“What’s co- conven- conventional mean?” Jack didn’t seem to notice the corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitching with each butchered attempt at pronouncing the word. Sherlock pointed at the bookshelf, “There’s bound to be a dictionary over there.” Jack glanced at the books and sighed, “I didn’t really want to know anyway.”
Why he had asked in the first place, then, was completely beyond Sherlock.
Clover had become quite fascinated with the holes in the wall and was still wanting of an explanation. She climbed onto the couch to get a better look as her mothers and uncle came back into the room. Clara was speaking, “…just twice a day with those. More if she needs it.”
Harriet placed a placating hand on her shoulder, “Honey, he’s a doctor. If anyone knows what to do, it’d be him. It’ll be fine.”
“Right, right. Sorry, this is just our first long trip without them.”
John smiled, “Not to worry, everything will be fine. We’ll have lots of fun, right kids?”
“Uncle John, how come there are holes in the wall? Jack got in trouble when he did that at home.”
John glared to where Clover was pointing and blanched, “Darts! We play darts! Lots of darts!” He laughed nervously and cast a quick glance at his watch, “Oh look at how late it’s getting. You two better head off or you’ll miss your plane. Can’t have that!” He hurried them towards the door, hugging them each goodbye, as did the children. As Clara continued to rattle off last minute instructions to John while Harriett hailed a cab, Clover and Jack returned to Sherlock’s side.
“Isn’t there anything fun to do around here?” Jack asked, prodding Sherlock’s arm with the pen. The man glanced over the edge of his screen and grinned devilishly, “Shall I show you how I actually put those holes in the wall?”
Fandom: Sherlock
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor, fun, fluff
Word count: 1,531
Summary: Sherlock. As a baby sitter. Perhaps not the best idea. (Now featuring 100% more children!)
Read Part 1.
They were scheduled to arrive early afternoon. Sherlock spent the majority of the morning in his bedroom, staying out of the way of John’s hoover and duster. John set about making last preparations for their guests and being generally aflutter about their arrival. Sherlock suspected he was most worried about the impression his flat mate would make on the family then whether the pillows were straight.
But despite John’s worries, they still showed up. The doorbell rang and John rushed down the steps, calling, “Sherlock, they’re here!” Sherlock couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He’d been watching his colleague’s family clambering out of the taxi for several minutes before the bell even rang. Harry was the easiest to recognize, with the same eyes as John and sandy blonde hair that flopped around her shoulders. Even the same smile.
Clara had been next to exit. She was slender, composed and had her mahogany brunette strands pulled back in a tight ponytail. A beautiful woman, but deep lines of continued anxiousness were beginning to become a permanent fixture of her face. She shared a look with her partner, but Harriet offered a reassuring smile and words of encouragement. After them, a boy leapt from the cab. He was a bundle of ginger and freckled energy, nearly bowling over three people in his haste to ring the bell of 221 Baker Street. Clara was shouting at him to apologize as Harry helped the last one from the vehicle.
Their daughter was the younger sibling, petite and frail looking. Sherlock shifted the curtain he spied through to get a better glimpse. The girl shared similarities with Clara, the same hair and eye shape. Obviously related. Now that was interesting, considering the family dynamics. Yet what caught Sherlock’s attention the most were the scars. They peaked out from the neck of the child’s shirt, trailing towards the bottom of her skull. The thin patches of hair did little to hide them, at least from Sherlock’s observant gaze.
But then John’s shouting interrupted any further spying and courtesy insisted Sherlock introduce himself to those he’d been watching. Well, at least John insisted upon it, courtesy was not a mistress Sherlock cared much to obey. As if to prove it true, he waited before finally joining the others. Hugs and squeals of laughter had begun to die down by then and the motley group had moved into the sitting room.
“Ah, there you are. Clara, Harriett, this is Sherlock Holmes.” John waved his hand between them. Clara was the first to extend her hand, offering a smile but gazing at him with certain wariness in her eyes. Apparently John had told them about his flat mate. Harriett was more jovial in her greeting, shaking his hand rigorously and grinning, “So this is the famous detective! It’s great to finally meet you. I feel like I should be asking for your autograph or something.”
Sherlock allowed a thin-lipped smile before extracting his hand back. “Yes, a pleasure. John has told me about you as well.” He decided not to bring up the fact that John’s few mentions usually involved her nasty drinking habit and a hint of resentment. However, going by the bags beneath the woman’s eyes, she had been following through on her plan to give up on alcohol altogether.
“Oh? Hopefully he says the same great things about me as he does about you.”
“Well-“
“And these are the kids!” John interrupted, shooing forward his niece and nephew and giving Sherlock a look that he was not to answer Harriet’s question. At least not truthfully. John rested a hand on his niece’s head, as she remained half hidden behind his legs, “This here is Clover. She’s six. Can you say hello to Uncle Sherlock, sweetheart?”
Before the girl could reply, her brother bounded up to Sherlock, “Uncle Sherlock? I thought Mum said you had a girlfriend!” He looked suspiciously at John, then leaned close to Sherlock and whispered, “I think he might be having an affair.”
Harriet snorted, “You twonk! Where do you come up with this stuff?” She took the boy and wrestled him into a headlock. John seemed more concerned that his nephew understand, “No, no, no. We aren’t together. He’s my flat mate. And we work together. Just call him Mr. Sherlock. Yeah, that’s better, Mr. Sherlock. I just meant uncle as in-oh never mind.”
He paused as Clover tugged on his trousers until he bent down to her level. She whispered loudly, “Uncle John, I’m six and a half.” John smiled at the child, “Right. Sorry.” He glanced at Sherlock, “She’s six and a half.”
“I heard.”
“And the one being abused by his mother is Jack. He’s eleven.”
“Eleven and three quarters!”
“Oh hush you!” Harriet ruffled his hair soundly before laughing and releasing him. “They aren’t normally this silly,” Clara told Sherlock, “They’re just excited to see their Uncle John.”
Harriett grinned before taking a glance at her watch, “Well, we need to be leaving soon if we’re to catch our flight. I’m sure Clara would rest easier if we could have a quick tour of the place before jetting off.” Clara smiled appreciatively at her partner and squeezed the woman’s arm, “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind John. And we can go over their schedule and such.”
Before any objections could be made, it was just Sherlock and the two children left in the room. They stared at one another for several long moments. Clover stayed close to her brother’s side, fidgeting at the sleeves of her cardigan. Jack seemed to be sizing him up. He nodded at the back wall; “Someone drew a happy face on the wall.
“I’m an artist in my free time.”
“You aren’t a very good one. And I thought Mum said you are a police officer.”
“Consulting detective, actually.”
“So you solve mysteries, like the detectives on the telly?”
“Except I’m better and smarter than those fictional characters. And the real ones, for that matter.”
Clover, feeling somewhat left out of the conversation, pointed at Sherlock’s art. “There are holes in the wall.”
“I get bored easily. Like now.” He strode across the room to the desk, flipping open John’s computer. The idea of sharing the house with these children was beginning to look less promising, and it had looked bleak from the start. He would need a distraction and soon.
Jack trailed after him and peered over his shoulder, “What’s the Science of Deduction?” Sherlock twisted his chair and the computer flush against the wall, but it didn’t seem to deter the boy as he had hoped. Jack apparently found Sherlock to be fascinating and would not be shaken so easily. He stood by the man’s arm, rolling a pen back and forth across the desk. “I want to be a doctor like Uncle John. Help people and stuff. That’s kind of what you do, right? Help people?”
“If its interesting, yes.”
“What if its boring?”
“That’s what the conventional officers are for.”
“What’s co- conven- conventional mean?” Jack didn’t seem to notice the corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitching with each butchered attempt at pronouncing the word. Sherlock pointed at the bookshelf, “There’s bound to be a dictionary over there.” Jack glanced at the books and sighed, “I didn’t really want to know anyway.”
Why he had asked in the first place, then, was completely beyond Sherlock.
Clover had become quite fascinated with the holes in the wall and was still wanting of an explanation. She climbed onto the couch to get a better look as her mothers and uncle came back into the room. Clara was speaking, “…just twice a day with those. More if she needs it.”
Harriet placed a placating hand on her shoulder, “Honey, he’s a doctor. If anyone knows what to do, it’d be him. It’ll be fine.”
“Right, right. Sorry, this is just our first long trip without them.”
John smiled, “Not to worry, everything will be fine. We’ll have lots of fun, right kids?”
“Uncle John, how come there are holes in the wall? Jack got in trouble when he did that at home.”
John glared to where Clover was pointing and blanched, “Darts! We play darts! Lots of darts!” He laughed nervously and cast a quick glance at his watch, “Oh look at how late it’s getting. You two better head off or you’ll miss your plane. Can’t have that!” He hurried them towards the door, hugging them each goodbye, as did the children. As Clara continued to rattle off last minute instructions to John while Harriett hailed a cab, Clover and Jack returned to Sherlock’s side.
“Isn’t there anything fun to do around here?” Jack asked, prodding Sherlock’s arm with the pen. The man glanced over the edge of his screen and grinned devilishly, “Shall I show you how I actually put those holes in the wall?”