Sherlock's Human Error

Chapter 12

John, Mary, Molly, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, Sherlock and I were all stood in the church, watching as the priest stood in front of the font. "Father, we ask you to send your blessings on this water, and sanctify it for our use this day, in Christ's name. Now what name have you given your daughter?", The priest asked. Oh dear, I dont think John and Mary had agreed on a single name yet. Mary and John looked at each other, looked a little worried and then Mary turned towards the priest and said "Rosamund Mary". "Rosamund?", Sherlock muttered, whilst typing away on his phone. "It means 'rose of the world'. Rosie for short", Molly replied. "Didn't you get John's text?", I asked. "No, I delete his texts. I delete any text that begins 'hi'", Sherlock muttered. "No idea why people think you're incapable of human emotion", Molly replied. I smirked at her as we continued to watch the service. "And now, godparents", the priest announced. "Are you ready to help the parents of this child in their duties as Christian parents?", the priest asked. "We are", Molly, Mrs Hudson and I said simultaneously. I turned to Sherlock and nudged him in the arm. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. Please repeat the question", Siri said, coming from Sherlock's phone. I looked at Mary and sighed. Typical. 

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I was sitting in my armchair back at the flat, with Rosie on my lap. John and Mary were both asleep on the sofa and Sherlock was standing in front of the mirror, getting quite annoyed at a certain someone. "As ever, Watson, you see but you do not observe. To you, the world remains an impenetrable mystery, whereas to me it is an open book. Hard logic versus romantic whimsy. That is your choice. You fail to connect actions to their consequences. Now for the last time, if you want to keep the rattle, do not throw the rattle", Sherlock said as he handed Rosie her toy. I smiled, to see how good he was with her. Rosie took the rattle from Sherlock and threw it right back in his face. I couldn't help but laugh. Sherlock looked down at me and smiled. "Sherlock...?", I started to question. "No, not a chance, Amy", he replied, know full well what I was talking about. Sherlock winked at me. I was only joking, for now. Imagine Sherlock Holmes being a father.

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Yesterday, Sherlock had got a text from Greg to let him know about a case. Sherlock was obviously excited and text John about it too. He let John know that he should come to the flat at around 5pm. It was 4:55pm and Sherlock, Greg and I were all waiting for John to arrive. "Afternoon. He says you've got a good one, Greg", John said as he strolled into 221B. "Oh yeah", Lestrade agreed. We all sat down, Sherlock in his armchair, John in his old armchair, Greg in the middle of the two and I was sat on the arm of Sherlock's chair. Greg proceeded to tell us about what had happened. On the night of a man's 50th birthday, they had gotten a Skype call from their son, who was in Tibet. A week later, a drunk driver was involved in a police chase, who turns into the driveway of this certain man's house, and crashed into the car belonging to the man's son. The driver got out alive but once the fire stopped, they found another body, the son of the man who lived there. And what was even stranger, was that the son had been dead for a week. 

Sherlock got all excited and proceeded to tell Greg to take all the credit for the case, which caused a debate about how Sherlock gets the credit once John blogs about it anyway. "Just solve the bloody thing, will you? It's driving me nuts", Greg says. "Anything you say, Giles", Sherlock replies. We all look at him in disbelief. "Just kidding", Sherlock smiles. He then turns to me whispers "What's his name?". I reply, telling him his name is Greg. I shook my head. This man is ridiculous. "Well then, let's help you solve your little problem then, Greg", Sherlock says, getting up and taking his dressing gown off, hanging it on the hook. "You hear that?", Greg says to me. "I know", I say acting surprised. "So, how's it going then, fatherhood?", Greg turns to ask John as we all head outside. "Oh, good, great. Yeah, amazing", John said. "Getting any sleep?", Greg asks. "Christ, no", John replies. You at the beck and call of a screaming, demanding baby, woken up all hours to obey his every whim? Must feel very different" Lestrade joked. John and I chuckled. "I'm sorry, what?". 

"Yeah well you know how it is. All you do is clean up their mess. Pat them on the head. Amy has to deal with that now", John replied to Greg, ignoring Sherlock. "You three having a little joke?", Sherlock asked, following us down the stairs. "Never a word of thanks, can't even tell people's face apart" I said, still ignoring Sherlock. "This is a joke isn't it?", Sherlock said. "Yeah and it's all 'Oh aren't you clever? You're so clever'", Greg continued. "Is it about me?", Sherlock asked as John and I put our coats on. "I think he needs winding", I said. "You know, I think that really might be it", John agreed. "No, don't get it", Sherlock muttered. I knew he did. I laughed as I grabbed hold of his hand and leaned up to kiss his cheek. 

We got to the crime scene to talk to the dead boy's parents. We had only been there 5 minutes and Sherlock had already upset them. After John and I had apologised for what felt like the 50th time in the last 20 minutes, Sherlock explained how the son had died. He hid in the drivers seat of his car. When the father went outside to look at the car, he was supposed to jump out and surprise his father, however, he suffered a seizure and died there and then. 

We finished up at the house and left. Sherlock pointed to the cab in front of us and said "That's mine and Amy's", you two take a bus", I chuckled. "Why?", John questioned. "I need to concentrate, and I don't want to hit you. Amy's not stupid enough to interrupt", Sherlock said. Should I be offended? I mean, in a way, he still called me stupid... it's a good thing I love him.