Now and Forever

11

‘You’re wrong.’ Isaac laughed, staring at the TV, typing lines of computer code without even watching the keyboard. ‘He isn’t the boy’s father.’

Sherlock sniffed and crossed his arms. ‘Yes, he is. I’m absolutely certain. Look at the turn-ups on his jeans, Isaac!’

‘Yeah, but look at how his cuffs are folded.’ Isaac took one hand off the keyboard, the other continuing to move furiously across the keys. ‘That is not the way a drug addict folds his shirts. The mother is lying about his drug problem, and the mother is lying about the child’s paternity.’

Sherlock squinted at the cuffs. ‘Maybe…’

Jeremy Kyle reappeared on screen. ‘We have the results.’ He said, pausing to play the audience.

Sherlock leant forwards in his chair. Isaac stopped typing momentarily.

‘John Harrison is the father of Jay Kirk’s baby!’ Jeremy shouted.

Sherlock leaned back again, smiling smugly at his elder son. ‘Told you.’

‘I’m busy.’ Isaac turned his attention back to his computer, typing a few more lines of code before sighing, sitting up and cracking his knuckles. ‘Done, dad.’

‘Excellent.’ Sherlock grabbed the laptop and grinned at the site. ‘Good work.’

Isaac shrugged and grabbed the remote. ‘It’s nothing. Seriously, this whole hacking business is almost boring.’

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. ‘A seventeen year old boy should not be able to hack into New Scotland Yard’s database this easily.’

Isaac smiled sarcastically and stretched. ‘What can I say? I’m a genius.’

Sherlock shook his head, smiling as he scrolled through the database, looking for DI Lestrade. ‘Found it.’ He muttered.

‘What are you looking for?’ Isaac said disinterestedly, tapping his leg in time with the music coming out of the TV. Isaac played the drums.

‘My brother’s husband has been acting strangely and I want to find out what it is.’ Sherlock replied. ‘He keeps telling Mycroft he has work commitments.’

Isaac bit his lip. ‘Affair?’

Sherlock didn’t reply, not wanting to say it out loud. As much as he appeared to hate his older brother…he didn’t want it to be true. He didn’t want someone to be hurting Mycroft like that.

‘You told John you had a work commitment today.’ Isaac commented, swinging his legs around so he was facing Sherlock. ‘But you don’t.’

‘He disapproves of me spending so much time with you.’ Sherlock muttered, eyes skimming the page. ‘He says you will grow bored of me.’

‘I spent sixteen years without my father.’ Isaac scoffed. ‘I have no doubt that it will take longer than thirteen months for me to grow sick of you.’

‘I love you too.’ Sherlock replied sarcastically.

Isaac stood up and grabbed his coat. ‘I’m famished and the hotel room service sucks.’

Sherlock put down the laptop with a sigh and stared at his son. ‘What?’

‘Can we go out?’ Isaac pleaded. Sherlock looked around the hotel room, reluctant to leave it. As much as he loved Baker Street, the colouring books and mind-numbingly boring reading books (Biff and Chip were the bane of his existence) disrupted the perfect set out of his flat.

It was a small price to pay for the little boy that had made him the happiest man on the planet.

‘Fine.’ Sherlock said, standing up and stretching.