We decided to take Hamish with us today. The case was only a robbery. A six. And Mrs Hudson was out today. I got up and went to put the kettle on and picked up the post, a letter was for Hamish. Probably a late birthday card, I tossed it over to where he sat every morning then waited. Within five minutes Sherlock was up, wrapped in his dressing gown. "Morning, love. There's tea wait over there." I smiled warmly as he hugged me gently. "Hamish is stirring. We need to be out in about an hour, Lestrade is insisting we get there on time today." I nod and takes a sip of my tea, watching him put the toast on. "Alright. I'll get the little one moving in a minute. Hopefully he's a bit better today." I put my tea down and went back to the bedroom, Hamish was starring at the ceiling. "Hey Monkey. Feeling a bit better?" I asked softly as I lifted him up and kissed his forehead. "Still icky.." He murmured, nuzzling into my chest. I stroked his dark curls from his face. "Do you think you can go on a case with us today?" He nods a little, he'd never miss a case. He was to much like Sherlock.
It was eleven by the time we were at Scotland Yard. Sherlock had Hamish clinging to his side like a small koala bear tucked under his coat. Greg showed the CCTV footage of the robbery, Sherlock taking in every detail then showing off his "skills". Anderson rolled his eyes and walked out, making Hamish giggle. Just as I sat down Holmes was out the room, I groan and followed.
By half past twelve I was back at Baker Street. Checking over Hamish. He'd got really ill within the past hour. I suspected it was a chest infection. I really didn't want to leave Sherlock on his own, it when he's on his own when he gets into a mass of trouble. Well, more trouble then usual anyway. I got Hamish in bed and started to write up the case that we finished last night. It wasn't a extremely interesting case but we still needed to get our clothes from somewhere. Two boys had come to Baker Street claiming their Father was a murderer. It did confuse me. Not Holmes though - of course. I picked up my phone and sent him a text. 'I'll take Mish to see Sarah later. Second opinion. I suspect a chest infection. JW'
Plans didn't go ahead. I found myself pulling shrapnel from Holmes. I can't say I didn't expect it. He claims it was an experiment that went wrong. More like someone caught him off guard. "Stay still." I snapped once more at him, "I need to get this out before it goes septic." Sherlock pulled a face. "My ankle is itchy!" "Yes. There's a piece of wood in it." I quickly pulled it out before he could protest. He gritted his teeth and hissed. "Better now?" "No. Worse." I rolled my eyes and put a dressing on the wound. "Rest for awhile, I'll make the tea. Doctor's orders." He didn't even attempt to say anything more and crossed his arms like a child. "Thanks you." I smiled and went to the kitchen.
Rain was pouring down, it didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon. Good old England! It was August and there were pictures of floods all over the news. "Urgh. I hate rain. The criminals hate it too. Meaning no cases." "I'm pretty sure that's the wrong reason to not like rain, Holmes." I chuckled a little as I handed him a cup of tea. "It's not illegal, is it? Or did Mycroft make a new rule up?" "Not that I know of." "Oh good!" I nudged his arm slightly and sat down in my chair with a sigh. "No cases tomorrow. I want to know you're okay first." "I'm fine, Watson." He closed his eyes. "I don't care. You're staying home even if I have to tie you to that chair." Sherlock raises an eyebrow. "That'd be extremely ambitions of you." I give up and sipped my tea. "I'm not going to waste my breath." "The little breath you have left." "Oi. I'm not that old!" I growl. "John." I narrow my eyes and go to the bedroom. "Hamish wanted you to say goodnight to him."
