Sherlock: The Next Generation

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"Yay, school," Hamish muttered in a sarcastic voice as he stuffed his hands in his pocket and walked along the pavement with his siblings at his side. It was a week into his, and Martin's, seventh and final year of primary school. Since they were now eleven their dads had decided that they were old enough to walk to school. After all it wasn't that far away, according to Papa. The only reason they had been taking taxis for years was because their dads always had somewhere to go.

"You're just jealous because I'm going on a school trip!" Molly retorted in a singsong voice as she skipped a bit ahead. The seven year old loved school, quite unlike her older  brothers. She may be ahead of her class, like Hamish was, but she didn't find the lesson boring. Hamish didn't understand it. He really didn't.

"Am not!" Hamish scowled slightly, earning an amused look from Martin. Hamish really couldn't care less whether Molly was going on a school trip (to a zoo of all places) or not. He just didn't want to be in school.

"At least you get to have Mortimer round afterwards, right?" Martin spoke in his soft voice as if he read Hamish's thoughts. Hamish just nodded with a light smile. He did something with Mortimer out with school at least once every week. Sometimes they went to each other's houses, the library or even the park. It varied every time.

Upon reaching school Molly ran away with a wide grin on her face as she saw her rather large group of friends. She was quite the popular one among both boys and girls. Another way in which she took after Papa. Not the popularity but more the fact that she could actually get on with people. Martin could sort of get on with people he was just too sigh to talk to them. To Hamish... they were all idiots. Well and truly idiots. Well, apart from Mortimer. And Martin. And just about all his family. Really. But the rest were all idiots. And he had to spend a whole day learning with them...

"Well that was terribly boring," Mortimer commented as they headed out of school.

"Especially chemistry," Hamish made a face. The two of them went up to the senior school, which was on the same campus, for the majority of their lessons. Due to being two years ahead and all. They started work for their GSCEs next year. "I'm pretty sure I knew more than the teacher."

"Probably," Mortimer smiled, one which reached his midnight blue eyes. "So what we doing at your house?"

Hamish shrugged slightly. "Papa is out taking Marti to his dance lessons and Molly is at a friend's so we could probably do anything. Dad said I could use some of the eyes he got from Aunt Molly for an experiment."

"We could test their reactions to acid," Mortimer grinned, brushing a strand of brown hair from across his face.

"Yeh, that sounds fun," Hamish nodded. They walked in a friendly silence the rest of the way to 221b baker street. Hamish pulled out his keys upon arrival, quickly unlocking the door and entering.

"I'm home, dad!" Hamish called as he dumped his schoolbag on the sofa, Mortimer following suite. Sherlock was nowhere in sight but there was a small note stuck to the fridge with a magnet (which hosted numerous pictures by Martin and Molly along with some writing by Hamish).

Out. Food and eyes in the fridge. Don't blow anything up -SH

Hamish rolled his eyes slightly with a light laugh at the note.

"Dad's out," the eleven year old announced to his friend who had followed him through to the kitchen.

"Cool," Mortimer replied with a grin. "Can we still use the eyeballs?"

"Yeh, they're in the fridge."

"This is going to be fun."

"Isn't it always?"

Mortimer nodded as Hamish got out all the necessary equipment. They could use the kitchen table because no one was in to complain. Which was good.

They were in the middle of the experiment when Mortimer moved their conversation to something that didn't not involve science.

"Are you going to the seventh year ceilidh?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. It sounds pretty boring if you ask me. Why, are you going?"

"Only if you're going. And I guess it will be pretty boring."

"Papa might force me to go."

"My dad couldn't care less," Mortimer replied teasingly.

"My dad thinks it would be a waste of time but Papa says I should go. It will be stupid though."

"Yeh... Is Martin going?" Hamish arched his eyebrow. This conversation really was taking a strange turn.

"Surprisingly, yes."

"With who?"

"Karina. Why are you asking all of this?" Hamish gave his friend a curious look with earned a sheepish grin.

"Just curious."

"Sure," Hamish replied sarcastically before moving his eyes back to the experiment. Oops. They'd left it unattended for a bit too long and the acid had bubbled over the sides of the beaker and onto the table. "Whoops. Papa is going to kill me."

"And why would I kill you?" Hamish turned around with a slight sense of horror filling his chest at the sight of John standing in the entrance to the kitchen with his arms folded. He was so dead. He frowned, wondering how long it had been since Papa and Martin had got back. Couldn't have been long. He didn't think.

"Eh... Sorry, Papa. Experiment."

John rolled his eyes. "Clean it up. And don't use the kitchen table again. Your dad isn't allowed to use it anymore and the same rule applies to you."

"Sorry, Papa."

John laughed lightly. "Don't worry, Hamish. It could have been worse." He nodded to Mortimer with a slight smile. "Just don't destroy any of my jumpers and you're safe." With that he left the two of them to their own devices.

Hamish grinned slightly as he began to clear up the mess they had made.