Sherlock: The Next Generation

Chapter 34

"Where are you going?" Sherlock looked up from his book just in time to notice John as he opened the door, Molly standing behind him wearing a coat and holding a football.

"Take a guess," John replied drily.

"You're going to the park!" Sherlock looked offended. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you probably wouldn't want to come!" John let out an exasperated sigh.

"Actually I would," Sherlock put down his book and stood. "The park is exactly the place I need to go. Hamish! We're going to the park." Hamish emerged from his room grumbling, a scowl on his lips. John tried not to sigh. He had been looking forward to a relaxing afternoon enjoying the nice weather playing football with Molly. Now he would have to watch Sherlock and Hamish to make sure that they didn't get into any trouble.

"Fine," John muttered, ushering Molly out of the door without waiting for Sherlock and Hamish. He heard the two following, both attempting to get on their coats and scarves as they did so. John rolled his eyes with a chuckle. Molly just glanced back at them with a grin.

"Do you have the plastic containers?" Sherlock asked his son with a frown.

"Yup!" Hamish replied brightly, pulling one out of his coat pocket. "Just as you said."

"What do you need plastic containers for?" Molly piped up, glancing back at Sherlock and Hamish.

"We will be collecting samples from the park," Sherlock replied in a matter of fact tone. "It is essential for my case and Hamish's education."

"Just don't bother too many people," John commented as they entered the rather large park that was a short walking distance from the park. Sherlock didn't even reply, just heading off with Hamish. John shook his head slightly. Those two were going to drive him insane. At least Molly had turned out... A bit more like him – even if she was a genius like Sherlock. At least she enjoyed playing football and other things like that. She was part of the girls' football club at school and a member of the team of her age group.

"Right, Molly," John turned back to his daughter with a warm smile. "How about some shooting practice?" Molly nodded vigorously and placed the ball on the ground. John quickly set up a makeshift set of goals and stood in them, prepared, he thought, for anything Molly threw at him.

However, after being hit by the ball far too many times for his liking John decided that maybe practicing shooting wasn't a good idea.

"How about a mini game against each other?" he suggested, chuckling as Molly's face lit up. Since there was only two of them it wouldn't be much of a game. But it was always fun. They only used one goal which was entertaining. Whilst John had the advantage of years of experience and strength he was getting rather old. So Molly had an advantage there, being eight...

John took the ball first, dribbling at a slow pace. Molly shot after him, exhilaration filling her mind. She loved playing football with her Papa! It was so much fun. It would be better if there were more people... But they had tried to get Sherlock, Hamish and Martin to try and play and that hadn't turned out well... But at least Molly knew that she was better than her brothers at something! That was a nice feeling. She loved sports. She couldn't see why they didn't.

Darting in for the tackle, Molly stole the ball from her Papa. She moved away with it, dribbling reasonably well towards the goal. She almost tripped a few times over a few branches that seemed to want to block her path. Almost there... Almost within shooting range...

Suddenly the ball was no longer at her feet. But Papa was behind her... Molly looked up with a scowl to find twinkling hazel eyes meeting her own colourful ones. Oh. She hadn't expected that.

"I saw you playing football and thought I would join in," Finn grinned, moving the football between his feet. "It was really easy to get the ball off you."

"I wasn't expecting you so it wasn't fair!" Molly retorted indignantly, hands on her hips.

"Who's this?" John had appeared, slightly out of breath and a frown on his lips.

"Papa, meet Finn! Finn, meet my Papa," Molly smiled. John watched Finn curiously, an eyebrow arched. So this was the boy that Molly had met at her friend's house. He seemed nice enough.

"John Watson," John held out his hand, which the young boy took and shook. "Nice to meet you, Finn."

"Nice to meet you... I've read all the posts on your blog! Did you really solve all those crimes?" Finn's eyes were wide, curiosity sparkling in them. Molly grinned. Her Papa would surely like Finn! He had read his blog.

"How old are you?" John was truly shocked. "And no, I did not solve any of them. That was Sherlock, Molly's daddy."

"I'm ten and one week!" Finn puffed up his chest proudly. So he was just over a year older than Molly...

"Can we play football!" Molly interrupted, quickly getting the ball away from Finn. "Will you play, Finn?"

"Of course," Finn grinned. "My mummy said I could do what I wanted to..."

"Great! So me and you against Papa!"

"Now that's not fair..." John began to protest. He was getting too old to do this sort of thing. But the two children just ignored his words, beginning to play. Ah well. He would survive.

They played for about an hour before Sherlock and Hamish reappeared carrying their boxes filled with various unusual things. Sherlock instantly turned his scrutinising eye on Finn, deducing everything about his life while the ten year old just watched in awe. John managed to stop Sherlock giving the 'If you hurt my daughter I will kill you' speech with a sharp look: one that said 'he's only ten, that speech can wait until they're older.'  So, in the end, Sherlock seemed perfectly satisfied with the boy called Finn.

And Molly wouldn't stop talking about him for the whole walk home.