Uncle Holmes

By Serena

Setting: Nine years after movie.

Summary: Holmes faces his toughest mental challenge yet: three rambunctious Watson children. Or rather, the Watson children are subjected to the mischievous, trouble-causing Uncle Holmes.

A/N: I absolutely adore Sherlock Holmes, and the dynamics between Holmes and Watson was brilliant. They really do act like five-year old boys! Hilarious to watch. Hope they make a few sequels!!

Now, Holmes might be OOC, but despite his unsavory habits, I can definitely see him as a fun uncle.

Disclaimer: Me no own. You no sue.

"Holmes!"

"Watson. So glad you could finally join me. I think I've finally discovered the way to silence a pistol shot…"

"No, wait, I --"

"Hold your tongue while I demonstrate, Watson, and do close that large gaper of yours, if you please…"

"But HOLMES!"

BANG.

"Well, that went better than I expected."

"How could it have gone better than expected? There's a bloody hole in your bloody chair!"

"Watson, old boy, it's quite simple. If I always expect the worst, then nothing can go worse than I expected, because I'll never have expected something worse."

"I'm disturbed to say that I actually understood that… Wait, is that my chair?"

"I distinctly remember you leaving it here."

"I forgot it!"

"I fail to see how that's my fault."

"You just blew a hole in it!"

"Ah, well, you know… it needed a recovering, anyway. Now, what can I do for you?"

"But I bought that just a year ago… Oh, blast it. Never mind. I came to ask you a favor, although I can't believe I'm asking it, come to think of it…"

"Do spit it out, Watson! I haven't got all day! Well, maybe I do, but that's besides the point."

"I came to ask you if you're free tomorrow."

"Yes, absolutely."

"Good. Then perhaps you won't mind watching the children while Mary and I have a day to ourselves. And wipe that smirk off your face, you disgusting git!"

"No. I won't do it."

"What? Why not?"

"I'm teasing. Drop them off at nine o'clock sharp. Make sure they're wearing some rather… everyday clothes."

"Yes, see? This is exactly why I didn't want to ask you…"

"But Mary insisted, didn't she?"

"Well…"

"Ah-ha! I told you she adores me. We're all one big happy family now."

"I can already see this isn't going to end well…"

Watson knew his wife of nine years very well. He knew she liked just one teaspoon of honey in her tea. He knew she loved the color periwinkle and was for women's rights. He knew she hated comic operas and preferred dramatic plays, such as Hamlet and Macbeth.

He also knew that, despite their first encounter, she and Holmes really did like each other. Much like his and Holmes' brotherly arguing, Mary and Holmes, much to Watson's surprise, had struck up a close friendship soon after the marriage. They would banter back and forth over tea and biscuits, and Mary would constantly mother and berate Holmes for his lack of hygiene and his unkempt flat, suggesting that he take a wife, while Holmes would return with several witty remarks about Mary's dress, or the state of the house that day, or Mary's temper in general, and claim that he would never marry.

Watson honestly didn't know what to make of it at first, but as time went on, the three settled down comfortably into a regular routine. Watson, as both Mary and Holmes had predicted, did not finish his work with Holmes with the Lord Blackwood case. But Holmes had been right – Watson did enjoy adventure every now and then – but more importantly, they all knew how much Watson did love his good friend, and, as Holmes was usually likely to forget his firearm, Watson would always be there for an extra hand.

Of course, Watson couldn't be expected to be with Holmes all the time, considering as how he did have a job, not to mention three young children.

And those three children were the bane of Holmes' existence. Or, so he constantly told Watson and Mary. However, both Wastons knew that the real story was actually quite different.

Jady Watson was born first, and she was a carbon copy of her mother in looks, but had the more prim and straight-arrow temperament of her father. Still, she was only eight, so she shared in her siblings' mischief every now and then, but that didn't stop her from acting like a mother – even to Holmes. More than once, she would march into Holmes' room and put her hands on her hips, frowning.

"This place is a pigsty!" she would declare. "You need to clean it up, Uncle Holmes!"

Holmes would glare at her out of the corner of his eye. "By all means, feel free to start," he'd retort.

Jady would promptly stick out her tongue, and then he'd grab her. She'd squeal and run for the door, screaming for Daddy, but Watson, knowing his best friend, would leisurely make his way into the room to find Holmes and Jady on the floor or in front of Holmes' desk, as the detective would either be showing Jady how to play the violin or something else of a scientific nature.

"I hope you're not turning her into a mad scientist, Holmes," Watson would say half-jokingly, leaning back against the doorjamb.

Holmes raised an eyebrow. "Hardly. I'm merely showing her the finer points of my profession – something that she has failed to learn from you, I'm afraid."

Watson rolled his eyes.

As for the younger two, Alexander and James, they were the more rambunctious. Alex was six and altogether bright and active and always wanting to join his "uncle" on one of his cases; while James, the three year old, adored his "Uncwe Shewock" and usually asked for a piggy-back ride.

Needless to say, Holmes adored the three children, yet still complained that they were too mischievous and needed to be kept under heavier control (a jab at Mary's mothering). However, Watson and Mary knew well that it was usually Holmes that needed more controlling.

"I declare," announced Watson to his wife as he and his family entered the Baker St. house, "that our children have more maturity and common sense than Holmes."

"Now, dearest, don't be like that," Mary chided. "Holmes is a grown man and fully knows what he is doing."

Then, a loud crash emanated from upstairs, followed by a surprised shout and a thump. Watson shot his wife a look, and she shrugged gracefully.

"You do know you're talking about Holmes," Watson said, watching warily as the children ran upstairs, calling for Uncle Holmes.

His wife just grinned and followed the children upstairs. Watson joined her and entered Holmes' room to find all three children and Holmes lying on the floor in a big pile and staring up at the ceiling.

"And, so, if you look to the left, right above that particularly large crack," Holmes was saying, "That will be the belt of Orion."

"Whath's an Owion?" James piped up, sucking on his fist.

"A man from mythological origins," Holmes said. "Stung by a giant scorpion after Apollo grew jealous of Orion when he was spending too much time with his sister, Artemis."

"Who cares about stupid sisters, anyway?" Alex asked.

Jady hit him. "You're mean!"

"Ow! Hey! Uncle Holmes, Jady hit me!"

"Well, my good fellow, I'd say you deserved it. There are two things you need to learn to survive, Alex, and that is one, you never, ever, insult a lady. And the other… never, ever get married." Holmes shot Mary and Watson a grin.

"Jady's not a lady!" Alex protested.

"Of course she is!" Holmes said, and rose to his feet with a groan, gently picking the children off him. "All right, go, go, Watson," he said. "Leave me to these horrors."

"I'm sure they'll be terrible," Watson said dryly, taking Mary's arm. "Just please, try to have a little more maturity than a two-year old. And no experimenting on them! I don't want to see Jady's hair turn green again!"

Jady giggled. "I liked it!"

Holmes winked at her but nodded seriously to Watson. "Your children are in the best of hands, I assure you."

Watson didn't look convinced, and muttered to his wife as they left, "I should've hired a maid."

Mary just laughed. "Oh, they'll be fine."

Watson still didn't think so.

The moment Watson and his wife had left the house, Holmes bounded to the window and watched as they left. Once satisfied they were out of sight, he turned around to face the children and clapped his hands together. "All right, now… what say we have a little adventure of our own?"

"YAY!" James and Alex yelled excitedly, bouncing up and down.

Jady was a little more wary. "What sort of adventure?"

Holmes bent down to her level. "The adventurous sort." He grinned and tugged on one of her red-blonde ringlets. "But, like all adventures, we must start out with a bang."

"GUNS!" yelled Alex happily.

"No guns," Holmes hastily said. "I don't think your father approved of that. Ruined his favorite upholstered sofa."

"It was a stupid sofa," Alex grumbled. "Too flowery."

"Moving onwards," Holmes said, whisking his coat and hat off the chair. "We are going to go out the window." He strode to the window overlooking the adjacent alley and opened it. "Come along, children!" he said, and stepped out the window. "Follow me---OOF!" The children watched, wide-eyed, as Sherlock dropped down through the window, crashed through the coal box and disappeared into black sootyness. After a moment, he called out more weakly: "Come on now, children! Don't worry, I'll catch you!"

The three children exchanged glances. Finally, Jady said, "You know Dad will kill us."

"But it's Uncle Shewock!" little James protested, still talking with his fist stuffed in his mouth.

"I'll go," said Alexander, the bravest of the bunch. "Uncle Holmes is down there. He won't let us get hurt."

"Speak for yourself!" Jady objected, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm not going down there!"

"Don't be such a prude, Jades," Alex said, shooting her a disdainful glance. He stepped towards the window. "Besides, it's Uncle Holmes. We always have fun with him."

"Don't you dare!" Jady started to shriek, but before she could stop him, Alex leaped out of the window and plummeted down with a shout. Jady watched on in horror as he disappeared into the coal bin. She waited breathlessly to hear his body bang on the bottom, but she only heard an "oaf!" and then:

"You're heavier than you look!"

"Am not!" Alexander's voice wafted up from the coal bin.

"Yes, you are!" Holmes protested with a grunt. "Now, where are the rest of you?"

"I don't care how much I love you, Uncle Holmes," Jady yelled down, "But I am most certainly not dropping my baby brother down into a dark coal bin!"

"PRUDE!" Alex yelled.

"SHUT UP!" Jady shrieked. "I am NOT going down that way! There's such a thing as a front door! And neither is James! C'mon, James." She grabbed her brother's hand (the one that wasn't in his mouth) and dragged him down the stairs and out of the house. She marched around the corner into the alley, where she found her uncle and brother dusting themselves off. Their faces and clothes were covered in soot. "That's why I didn't jump!" she exclaimed.

Holmes nodded. "you are in the right, absolutely. Your brother is a little too young for such high jumps. Never fear, we shall have to accommodate for our younger detective, eh, James?" He ruffled his nephew's curly red hair.

James giggled. "Up, up, Uncwe Shewock!" He held out his hands.

Holmes sighed and dusted off his hat. "Again, hm? Ah, well, you'll put poor old uncle in the grave a mite sooner, but it is how it is. Up, up!" And he swung the toddler up in his arms, resting him on his shoulders, holding each leg on either side with both hands. "Now, do hold on tight, old chap!" And he started down the alley out into the street.

"What about us?" Alex demanded, slapping his sister's hand away as she tried to dust more soot off him. "What case are we solving?"

"The case of..." Holmes faltered. "The case of…" His eyes caught a carriage heading towards the bakery. "The missing pastries!"

"What? That's not a case…" Jady didn't look convinced.

"Not a case! My dear girl, it is as an important as a case a professional detective could hope for!" Holmes protested.

"Why?" Alex inquired, curiously staring up at his uncle.

"Well, what do detectives require for the job?" Holmes asked them seriously.

"A pony!" Jady said.

"A spyglass!" said Alex.

"To go PEE!" cried little James, grinning down at Holmes.

"No, I…" Holmes paled and craned his head to look back at his nephew. "Do you have to?" he asked nervously.

James giggled and shook his head. "Noo…."

"Hmm…. Judging by your rather mischievous grin, I must conclude therefore that you do mean to do business," Holmes muttered. "You two, wait here. And think about what I asked you."

Several minutes later, Holmes and a beaming James returned to find the two Watson siblings arguing. "Enough!" he cried. "Good grief, Watson midgets. I don't care who claims to be the senior detective, because I have authority over the both of you! Now stand to attention! We must press on if we are to solve the mystery."

"I solved it already," Jady said.

"Oh, did you? Tell me, then."

"The pastries aren't missing. They're at the bakery."

"YUMMIES!" James yelled happily, bouncing up and down on Holmes' shoulders.

Holmes winced and grabbed his nephew's legs. "Enough, little fellow, before you throw your poor old uncle down. Now, did you two remember what I asked you? What does every detective need?"

"Beer!" Alex offered.

Holmes shrugged. "Can't argue with that. But your mother would kill me if I didn't… so, regretfully, no. Not usually."

"A really nice hat!" Alex said quickly.

Holmes grinned. "Now you're onto something..."

"Glasses!" Jady piped up.

"No, not quite…"

"COOKIES!" James hollered.

"That's the ticket!" Holmes announced gleefully. "Sustenance! Food! Every detective needs a good meal before setting out on his investigation. Now that Jady has seemingly solved the mystery of the missing pastries, what do we do now?"

"EAT THEM!" the children all yelled.

"Ex-actly!" Holmes said matter-of-factly. "But, being the professional detectives that we are, we must hasten to the bakery before they're all gone! Who's with me?"

The children all yelled in agreement, earning them some strange looks from passing by pedestrians.

"Onward, then!" Holmes bellowed, eyes flashing merrily. "Follow me!" And he turned out of the alley and jogged down the street, James bouncing and giggling on his shoulders. The other two children eagerly followed him.

By now, the Londoners were used to seeing the famous Sherlock Holmes racing about with his friend's three children tagging along beside him, so not many people spared a second glance as Holmes weaved in between pedestrians. In fact, several called out a "Good afteroon, Holmes!" and "Hallo, Holmes! Lovely to see you and the children about!"

One person, however, who had recently returned to England, was not used to seeing the sight. She, as a matter of fact, was actually on her way to see the famous Sherlock Holmes when suddenly, the man himself rushed by her.

"Say hello to Irene!" Holmes called out, racing by with James laughing on his shoulders.

Irene turned and stared.

"Hi, Irene!" Jady shouted, racing past her after her uncle.

"Hi-Rene!" Alex yelled, following his sister.

Irene blinked, did a double take, and managed to stammer out: "Sherlock?"

The trio raced towards the bakery and clambered inside. However, as the baker expected to see them on a weekly basis, he didn't bat an eyelash as the four trampled inside, gasping for breath.

"Good-day," panted Holmes, "Mr. Pennyworth."

"Good day, Detective," Pennyworth greeted with a smile. "How are your apprentice detectives today?" He grinned down at Jady and Alex.

"Hungry!" Alex announced.

"Famished!" Jady agreed.

"YUMMIES!" James shrieked, promptly stuffing his fist in his mouth again.

Holmes held back a smile and turned to look at the baker mock-seriously. "Jady has solved her first case, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Indeed!" said the burly man, grinning. "What's that?"

"The case of the missing pastries!" Jady said proudly. "I saw the cart and followed it here. I found them!"

"Ah, a truly masterful apprentice you have, Holmes," said the baker, nodding his head. "I'll warrant that deserves an extra chocolate biscut for the lady."

"Jady's not a lady!" Alex said huffily, irritated with the attention his sister was getting. "She's a prude!"

Jady glared at him. "Am NOT!"

"Are too!"

"Children, one more word and I'll eat both of your pastries!" Holmes threatened.

That shut them up.

Pennyworth chuckled and pulled out five pastries, handing them to Holmes. "On the house, Holmes. For my favorite customers. Just take care to have them back home before Watson finds out."

"Oh, I intend to. Come along children, let's eat up!" Holmes handed the siblings a pastry each.

The food was gone in under thirty seconds.

"Now, what do to now?" Holmes wondered, tapping his chin.

"The park!" Jady chirped. "I want to play hide-and-go seek!"

"Find the criminal, eh?" Holmes said thoughtfully. "Very well. To the park it is! We must run amuck as much as possible before your parents return home!" With a nod to Pennyworth, he rushed out of the bakery, the two children racing after him.

Pennyworth chuckled and shook his head. "Sherlock Holmes… always knew he'd had a way with children."

Three hours later, Watson and Mary returned to the house to find it oddly silent. Exchanging wary glances, they looked around for any sign of the children or Holmes.

"Holmes?" called Watson. "Children?"

No answer.

Now exceedingly worried, Watson rushed upstairs, calling his partner's name. "Holmes? Jady? Alex?" He threw open the door and stopped.

All three children were, once again, lying on the floor, asleep, curled up next to their uncle, who was snoring gently. Not one of them even moved when Watson opened the door.

Watson couldn't help it: a smile crept across his face. "Found them, darling," he whispered.

Mary came up behind him and smiled. "They've barely moved at all! I wonder how he got them to go to sleep…"

"Do we want to know?"

The couple shook their heads simultaneously.

Neither of them noticed the corners of Holmes' mouth twitch upward. Very carefully, only his fingers moving slightly, he brushed a hint of coal off his trousers.

Now, if only he could keep Watson and his wife from seeing the front of Alex's shirt… Thank goodness the boy wasn't facing his parents.

"Wait a minute," Watson whispered, frowning. "Is that… coal on James' trousers? And dirt on Jady's dress?"

Oh, dear. Maybe they did notice.

Well, it had been fun while it lasted.

-The End-

Yep, that's all she wrote! Just a rather long oneshot. Let me know what you think!

- Serena