Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.

…

Chapter 15: Family Outing

"We should have a break, go away somewhere." John thinks aloud. Wiping Hamish's face from breakfast and undoes the velcro on his bib, "Not somewhere far, we can stay in England but somewhere that isn't…here." He looks around at their flat, after the fire Mycroft had replaced almost all of their broken possessions and damages while they recovered in hospital but as their sleep pattern returned Hamish's didn't, he longs for his bear.

"Ok."

"Now I know you won't – wait, you said ok. We can?" John stops, shocked and excited.

"I don't see why not. We haven't done anything together for far too long." John looks at Sherlock bemused.

"What?" He asks accusingly.

"I never took you for the 'family' guy."

"My family life was functional; it's just my personal one that wasn't. Aren't you meant to go away with the people you love? Enforces the bond?"

"Yeah, yeah. Where do you want to go?"

"Like you said not far but definitely somewhere away from the city. London should be able to last a few days without me." John chuckles at the last bit. John finishes cleaning Hamish, smiling when he grabs his bowl and beaker and waits for John to move to the worktop near the sink so he can put them down. I guess some habits he will never break.

"We could have a picnic in the countryside." John offers after thinking a while.

"So cliché but Hamish should like it. I don't think he's even seen grass given his shocked face every time an advert comes up showing fields."

"Ok, countryside it is. You don't think we'll be in danger do you? That anyone else wants to kill us? I don't think I can handle any more drama."

"If someone does then they should have a break too." Sherlock replies cheekily. "You'll take your gun?"

"Of course."

"Good." With that Sherlock heads to the kitchen and looks in the fridge, grateful Mrs Hudson bought them groceries, and begins stacking various food on the side.

"What are you doing?" John asks sceptical.

"The major component in a picnic is food, so it seems sensible to make something."

"You want to go now?" He inquires.

"Problem?" Sherlock replies nonchalantly.

"No…no. I just thought…right, ok I'll look for blankets."

"In your wardrobe, left-hand corner."

"Thanks." John heads upstairs, suddenly realising he hasn't stayed in his own room for over half a year. He heads to his wardrobe, grabbing two blankets, coughing as settled dust flies from the door before quickly closing it and leaving. He shakes out the blankets and re-joining Sherlock who has surprisingly done the majority of packing. In a cool bag are; 4 jars of baby food, 3 bottles of formula, a few toys Hamish packed, 2 large flasks of tea. Sherlock leaves the flat, John thinks of calling after him but he hears Mrs Hudson's voice so assumes he's gone to ask for something.

…

"Oh Sherlock, I hoped you were the plumber. What's happened? What did you do?" Mrs Hudson accuses wondering what he's done to the poor flat now.

"I, nothing. We're going away –"

"Aww that's lovely dear, a family vacation. Where are you going? What are you doing? When are you going?" Mrs Hudson excitedly bombards him with questions.

"Runnymede Windsor for a picnic and in an hour. Anyway, I came to ask if you could please, er, help me prepare the food? I'm not very experienced cooking."

"I'd be happy too but what about the plumber? To be honest I don't think he's coming, he should have been here at 9am and now it's quarter to 12."

"I'm sure John could help, you'd be surprised what he can do." Sherlock stops himself from adding with his hands. Of course he'd never admit it but he's craving John's touch, when they get back he's making sure he changes that feeling.

"Do you still have the food I bought you?"

"Hmm? Oh, er yes." Sherlock stutters as he dragged from his fantasies.

"How long are you staying for?"

"One day and possibly the night."

"Right, so I'll go upstairs and you can all stay here." Mrs Hudson bustles busily around her kitchen gathering ingredients she needs before heading upstairs and reiterating the plan to John who moments later appears at 221A with Hamish.

15 minutes, John fixes the leak under the kitchen sink. He calls the plumber to cancel coming, arguing with the manager about his man not turning up 3 hours ago. Ending the call pleased with himself, he inhales deeply, enjoying the smells coming from their flat. They return upstairs and find fresh baked bread rolls, chocolatey cupcakes with strawberry frosting, sausage rolls, salad and fruit covering every inch of the kitchen.

"Almost done." Mrs Hudson coos as she finished piping onto the last cupcake.

"Wow, this is amazing! Thank you so much." John thanks, hugging a smiling Mrs Hudson, hands extended so she doesn't get any flour on his clothes. An hour has passed, 1 o clock, and a knock sounds on the door.

"I'll get it." Mrs Hudson offers before John stops her, pointing gat her caked hands, literally! A black Jaguar XJ is parked outside, a man in a tailored-black suit, darkened glasses and combed back brown hair stands on their doorstep hands folded over the other smartly. Sherlock joins John by the door noting, armed to his assessment.

"Whose car is this?" John asks.

"I asked Mycroft to lend us one."

"And he just gave you it?"

"Well, yes, you can see it can't you?" John gives Sherlock his bitch-face, raising his eyebrows as a signal for him to continue, Sherlock sighs as though he is explaining something very obvious, "I started talking about us needing a break, you know how well we handle emotional matters, so he gave in easily." Sherlock smiles.

"Huh, right." John says astounded before continuing packing.

Sherlock gets out his phone, sending a text to his brother.

I told you to send an unarmed man. -SH

What if you get into trouble? I can't let my baby brother get hurt can I? - MH

You are aware of the past week right? - SH

Fine. Hurt any further. – MH

Sherlock rolls his eyes, pocketing his phone and returns to packing their belongings.

"Er, John?"

"Yeah?"

"We don't have a car seat."

"No we do – oh god we don't. I was going to buy one the night of the fire, fucking Jane!" Hamish furrows his brows, his ears picking up on he cuss word Anthony often said.

"Sorry." John apologises, kissing Hamish's curls.

"Sir." The suited man speaks, opening the car door to reveal of baby-seat inside.

"Mycroft has really done well." John congratulates.

"Mmm." Sherlock agrees, not wanting to verbally acknowledge his brother's efforts.

The gent hands Sherlock the keys, making sure they're all secure before stepping back and communicating to Mycroft that they're leaving through an earpiece. 50 minutes later they arrive; the journey being reasonably peaceful, Hamish only making a whining noise at the seat belt digging into him which John renders before both succumb to sleep. Sherlock continues driving down an avenue of trees, no-one in sight. Perfect. Sherlock gets out his phone, taking a picture of partner and son sleeping before waking them. John turns himself round, attempts to unbuckle Hamish but can't reach him fully so leaves him for Sherlock to undo. Sherlock unbuckles Hamish's seat with difficulty to John's entertainment but he manages it, putting him in baby carrier across his chest, Hamish facing outwards. A beautiful canopy of pines, beech and maples, leaves of all colours, rustle above their heads on the warm air. Looking upwards, sunlight filters through the thicket, sending concentrated rays of sun around them. Even Sherlock marvels at the beauty of this wood, like the stars, he does appreciate such things. They continue with their walk, the rich scent of earth and dew filling their nostrils. Hamish gurgles happily, his hands constantly reaching for leaves and bark as he strokes his hand down them, admiring the new texture.

The ground beneath their shoes grows wetter, a small stream flows through a fissure, gradually widening as they follow its trail. They arrive at a mini fall, water cascading down smooth rocks, like a Buddhist's garden. Flowers overlap the water spectacle, droplets flowing off the curved petal like a chain of stringed pearls, causing ripples in the pool below. Where nature comes nature returns. Sun reflects of the water-filled leaves all slowly drooping ready to surprise an unexpecting creature that lands on the greenery. John looks to Sherlock, their eyes having a silent conversation so they continue to the pools edge, its peaceful surface disturbed from Hamish's wondering hand. The water is warm so they roll up their trousers, removing their shoes and socks and put their legs in, Hamish's feet just getting wet as he sits in the pouch. He marvels at his wrinkly toes, making noises of fascination and pointing to them. Sherlock notices the number of trees has receded as they follow the stream so he continues behind the rock-face, locating a single, large willow tree. He sits below it, placing their bags down and unzips both.

"Is here ok?"

"Here is lovely." John responds, sighing with content. John puts a white bib with a green rim and train in the centre around Hamish, fishing out his jars and milk while Sherlock takes out their own. John feeds and laughs, the deep sound filling John with happiness. He grabs a sausage roll, still warm and takes a bite while Sherlock peels an orange, slowly placing the segment in his mouth and bites into its thin flesh, keeping his eyes surveying the forest. John wonders if he knows how he's eating the orange, it is strangely hot. As if reading his thoughts, he finishes the orange and grabs a banana, peeling it and taking a large amount into his mouth, leaving it there for a few seconds before biting it. He suddenly turns his head so their eyes meet and John looks away blushing, he can see Sherlock smiling in his peripheral vision as he continues eating the banana tantalisingly slow.

They finish eating; drinking their flasks of tea before taking Hamish out of the sling so he can run about. Sherlock stays with him, holding his hands occasionally so he doesn't slip or fall. John pretends to chase him, Hamish squealing every time John blocks his path until the army medic sweeps him off his feet, pressing his body against his face so he can blow raspberries against his tummy. Sherlock laughs along with them, the love coming from all of them making the atmosphere so comfortable and enchanting. What seems like only a few minutes, the sun begins setting, blue sky turning to shades of light pink and burnt orange. Repacking containers and bottles, they load up the car, fastening up their sleep boy before sitting in the front seats, John driving this time.

"We passed a Bed and Breakfast on the way here at least 5 miles back; we can stay there overnight if you're too tired to drive or I could."

"No, no. I'm driving, it's fair. If we did stay, we don't have any other clothes though."

"Hamish's bag." John exits the car, opening the rear, looks into said bag and surely enough are packed a pair of clothes and nightwear for all 3 of them.

"We could watch the sun rise tomorrow then leave, if you want?"

"That would be lovely." John smiles, placing a chaste kiss to Sherlock's cupid bow.

Just as the stars begin to show themselves, they pull up to the B&B, parking around the back and book a room for the night. Although they don't voice their concern, both men are worried whether they'll even be allowed to stay here. A tall, slightly muscled man dressed in flannel and rolled up jeans walks to the front desk, a scarf hanging glossily around his neck.

"Hi! One room for the night?"

"Yes please." John answers.

"Aww, is he yours?" The man at the desk chides, a huge grin directed to Hamish. He stands at least 5ft 8", stubble framing his face and piercing green eyes complimenting his olive-tone.

"Er, yes." Sherlock replies warily.

"Isn't he cute! Hey Darren, come here." John stands guard too, hand on his back pocket over his gun. A smaller, blond fella comes from the back room. When he sees Hamish he smiles broadly too!

"We don't get many gay couples around here, or any couples given here is in the middle of nowhere! He reminds our boy although ours is 7. You been together long?" They relax, realising that the two men before them are a couple like them, a very open and nosy one.

"We've been flatmates for 5 years and started dating almost a year ago." Sherlock replies, making John's stomach flutter. He refrains from looking at Sherlock in awe instead thinking, he does truly love me. The men smile at the soppy tale.

"Our boy doesn't get to see many other children. If you like we could look after…"

"Hamish."

"Hamish for a while so you can both relax. The tension between you is honestly killing me!" This stuns Sherlock, being out-analysed is something that never happens. He and John look at the green-eyed man awkwardly, he laughs amused and calls, "Hugo!" A moment later a small blonde boy walks out, like his father's, his mouth turns upwards at the sight of the toddler, "This is…" The brown haired man trails off.

"Oh yeah, I'm John and this is Sherlock." John introduces. Sherlock runs his deductions through his mind over this family, coming to the conclusion that they can be trusted, if not the most unselfish, responsible people he's met in his life. Sherlock check's the time on his phone, 8 o'clock.

"If the offer still stands you can look after him for an hour." Hamish turns around, looking at the strangers and then to his dad.

"These are daddy's friends. Would you like to meet them?" The older boy smiles at Hamish waving his hand joyfully. Hamish smiles back waving in return and looks to Sherlock smiling and nods.

"We will come back in 10 minutes. Thank you for this." John says to the blonde, almost whispering the last part. They are handed their keys, being wished a good night by the owners and a wink from the blond one. They reach their room, barely containing their laughter as they relax, overwhelmed by the men downstairs.

"I like them." John says once he's calm. Sherlock nods in agreement. After they've changed Hamish and themselves; Hamish is clothed in a brown bear onesie, a present from Mrs Hudson while both Sherlock and John wear plain tees and sweats.

"Play time?" Hamish chimes. Sherlock knows he's not going to go to sleep any time soon given his excitement but his smiley face brings one to his own.

"Yes Hamish and we will see you very soon." Hamish nods, stretching his arms to be picked up and places a kiss to Sherlock's lips then points to John and he does the same. They return downstairs, Hugo also dressed for bed too; he wears Roary the Racing Car pyjamas and is carrying a large, sandy bear. Once again, thanking the two men, they return upstairs, barely making it through the door before Sherlock pins John to it.

"John?"

"Yes?"

"Do you love me?" He asks seductively, his body language playful and eyes full of desire.

"Of course." John answers, interested that Sherlock is so aroused.

"Prove it." Sherlock says smirking, leaving their bodies flush, before dipping his head to the crevice of John's collarbone.

…

A/N – Oh, did I leave it on a cliff-hanger? :P I know I said out yesterday but hadn't finished writing, thought about releasing half but the whole thing would be a better read. Hope you've all had a nice week off, if you're on school half term that is! Anyway, will keep you informed on progress so hopefully next chapter will be out on Saturday 28th in the evening xox

Update 25/02/15: After spotting a mistake somehow I've now added over 300 words, I think this is my longest chapter! Shall try to control myself ;) xox