The Holmes Family: A Collection of Short Stories

Say That Again? (Part 6)

This is the last section of this short story. I will write more about the Holmes Family in this book, don't worry. And I apologize for the slightly cheesy ending. I also apologize that it is somewhat short.

Thank you all so so so so much for the support you've given me! You are the reason I keep writing, it's encouraging!!

If you have any ideas for stories about the Holmes Family, don't be afraid to message me or comment!

Cheers!

-Lai

ALLISON

I cradled a six month old William on my hip, watching telly, standing in the middle of the living room floor. It was some child's cartoon with garish colours and no depth, but he seemed to be mesmerized by it.

I studied his face. He had pale skin, which was a given, considering how pale Sherlock and I both were. His eyes were just beginning to change colour from their perfect blue grey, and I could tell that they were going to be a startling green, like mine. His hair was bright red, like mine, but curly, like Sherlock's. He was going to have a helluva time taming that mess when he got older. He may have been named after his father, but he was going to be the spitting image of his mother. I thought, absentmindedly.

As I was pondering this, I heard Sherlock's footsteps on the stairs. He opened the door with a flourish, not bothering to take off his coat, and swept me up in an embrace. I squealed, and William gurgled.

When he set me down, I gave him a look of mock judgement. "Where did that come from? You are usually not one for physical touch."

"Today," he said, an uncharacteristic grin on his face. "Is a good day."

"What makes today a good day?" I asked.

"Triple murder!" he exclaimed, gleefully.

I rolled my eyes and headed into the kitchen to get me some tea, and to get William a bottle. I was still breastfeeding, but I was weaning him slowly. "Leave it to you to get all pumped about a triple murder," I said.

"Oh c'mon, you aren't the least bit excited?" he asked, a look of confusion on his face as he followed behind me.

"Triple murders happen all the time."

He came up behind me, and wrapped his arms around my waist, and began to sway lightly back and forth.. Okay, this was out of character. He wanted something. He took a breath. "Ally," he started. Oh boy. Here it comes. "Ally, Ally, Ally."

"What."

"You're coming with me."

"Am I now? That's what you wanted?" I asked, a bit incredulously, as I gave William his bottle.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh c'mon, did you really think I wouldn't see through all that?"

"All what?"

"The hugging, the touching! You don't really do that."

"Well..."

"No, you don't."

"Okay, you're right, I don't. But I do want something."

"Oh I see, there's a catch."

"We have to leave William with John."

"Erm, why?"

"Because the murder happened in Scotland, and the investigation is going to take a couple days. And, who takes a baby to a crime scene!?"

I gave him a look. "You do. All the time."

He looked away sheepishly. "There might be some chases," he explained. "I don't want William to get hurt."

"You're a good father," I said, as I walked back into the living room, William at my hip still, tea in hand. I sat down on the sofa, and Sherlock plopped down beside me. I handed William off to him, and the baby continued to suck on his bottle and make cute gurgling noises. Sherlock gave him a loving look. "Fine, I'll go."

He jumped up, pumping the arm that wasn't cradling William. "Yes!" he shouted, ecstasy written plainly on his face.

I rolled my eyes. He thought I was so easy to manipulate. The truth was, half the time when he thought he was manipulating me, things were going exactly how I planned them to.

I gazed at him, holding his son, our son, lovingly, and knew that we would be happy. I had a family.