Author's Notice:

This is just going to be a collection of one-shots based on my own head canon of Hamish Watson-Holmes, with a dash of Alex Moran-Moriarty thrown in. Pairings will include, JohnLock, Mystrade, MorMor, and Halex. It will be a wide range of genres, but should be PG-13 for the most part, though rating may increase in later one-shots.

Thank you for reading, if anyone plans on reading? I posted this mainly for my own enjoyment.


By: Emo Fox

They had dealt with a lot.

Moriarty, the fall, the aftermath of everything.

Years to piece their life together and then Irene pops up.

Like a specter from a time beyond, something both of them had nearly forgotten(or maybe that was John just thinking wishfully; Sherlock didn't forget, at least not about something he deemed important and he was sure Irene had a prime spot in his mind palace). So, here this woman just waltzed into their flat, dressed in red, making sure she was right under Sherlock's nose as she talked. From the lack of shock on Sherlock's face; what John had known the past few years proved true, that she hadn't been dead, and the detective had known. Of course he had known. He followed her now around the flat like a puppy, entranced, and John just stood there, arms folded, hoping she'd come up with something interesting to say and then just leave.

But then the words:

Sherlock. Father. Hamish.

All appeared in the same sentence and John was sputtering and gesturing to the two of them and Irene had the gall to touch Sherlock's arm and to look at him with that venomous smile of hers. Those clever eyes telling him all he needed to know. Luckily, this time, Sherlock was appropriately shocked and began to ask questions.

What it came down to, was that she had sex with him while he was drugged(but she insisted she couldn't be blamed, because how could anyone pass up that opportunity?), but from that she got pregnant, kept the child, and actually named it after John's suggestion of Hamish; and that pissed the doctor off more. John was asking questions, what she wanted, why she even brought it up, that he and Sherlock were doing just fine thank you very much and how the detective wouldn't just run off to play father-

No, no, you have it all wrong. She smiled, walking slowly around the room.

Moriarty's name came up.

Apparently things were getting dangerous, and she couldn't balance her 'social' work as well as Moriarty's demands and she actually told them she believed she's going to die soon. So nonchalant, like discussing the weather; her number was going to come up, and she couldn't just leave Hamish all alone, so she came here-

Asking that they take on the responsibility, be the legal guardians, when she ultimately 'kicks the bucket', so flirty, even that giggle, it was obscene.

Sherlock was still processing.

John was red in the face.

Irene took that moment to open the door and guide the child inside. He was four, maybe almost five. He had Sherlock's eyes and wild hair, but his body time was all soft angles, like Irene; his soft white skin and narrow bird-like face, making those wide blue-green eyes look even bigger than they were. But, John despaired; there wasn't that childish innocence there, behind those eyes, it was gone, and even now he just kept looking at his shoes and picking at the end of the red scarf that was tied around his neck(too big, nearly on the floor, obviously Irene's-it matched her dress).

John was the one who agreed; Sherlock was still contesting the claim, even though the evidence was right in front of him.

It would be another year before Hamish came under their full custody.

Just dropped on the doorstep one day, with a note pinned to his jacket.

I believe this is yours. - JMx