Chapter 1

"Where could he possibly be?" Sherlock asked, not hiding how worried he sounded.

John looked up from his laptop. "I'm sure he's fine," he said, not very reassuringly as Sherlock's expense. The thing John always enjoyed about Sherlock was how cool and calm he could act in any situation. You could tell him a kid got hit by a bus, and he wouldn't bat an eye. But tell him that his kid got a papercut, and he was all over the situation.

"Then why hasn't he called?" Sherlock almost shouted, before turning his head to continue staring out the window.

John was almost frightened by the immediate rise in tone, but shrugged it off knowing he couldn't stop Sherlock from having a wandering mind.

"We should go look for him."

John sighed, "I suggest we don't-"

"John!"

"Sherlock!"

The two held their gaze for what most people would consider an uncomfortable amount of time. Their eyes stared into each other, and without saying anything, the two just looked away, silently agreeing there was no use in being angry with each other.

"He's not stupid. He would have noticed if someone was trying to follow him or anything else of the sort. Do you honestly think he was taken from the street? He's probably at the arcade with some friends."

"Hamish doesn't have friends."

John scoughed. "Sherlock, do you honestly think the boy doesn't have any friends at all?"

"I've never met them. He never talks about them. So the assumption to be made is-"

"Sherlock. He's told me about his friends. Every night before I tuck him in he tells me all kinds of stuff that happened that day, including stuff he's done with his friends."

Sherlock just kind of silently stared. "Huh... Why doesn't he ever tell me about his friends?"

"Are you seriously upset about this?"

"No, just... Okay. So he might be out with friends. Well, that doesn't change the fact that he should have called."

John looked back down at the computer when he realized Sherlock probably wanted to think about a lot of things, as if it's that big of a deal, he thought.

Honestly, John was just as worried about Hamish as Sherlock was, but he didn't want to worry the man any more that he had to. He knew that Sherlock could probably see right through him, but he liked to think that Sherlock at least appreciated the gesture.

In the midst of the two sitting in the living room, Sherlock's phone vibrated on the table between them. Sherlock rushed to it anxiously, not even checking the called ID before answering.

"Hello, Hamish? ...Lestrade. No, not now I'm busy... very funny, yes. I don't care, I'll look into it when I get... I understand that, but the same could- oh shut up!" he finally yelled before slamming the phone back on the table.

"What did he want?" John asked a bit disappointed.

"There's a case. A woman found buried alive, and six children missing from their home."

John's jaw slowly began to drop. "I'm sorry,did you just say six chilren missing?"

"He implied they were siblings, but I suppose..." he looked out the window again, a buit more worried than he was before.

John didn't want Sherlock to go into full panic yet, and tried to talk to him a bit more about the case. "Okay, so a buried woman and children mising, how are they connected?"

"Oh, maybe I should have asked."

"Oh, maybe," John replied sarcastically.

The two continued silently bickering until they finally heard the front door open and saw an unharmed Hamish walking through it.

"And just where have you been?" John asked, knowing Sherlock would probably start concluding the answer to that question.

"I was just... playing with friends."

"Where?" Sherlock jumped in.

"The playground... my friend, Adam, his dad had to stay at work late."

"Really? Two and a half hours late?" Sherlock asked, "Because if you ask me, I'd say the state of your clothes suggests you're lying."

"What about my clothes?" Hamish asked knowing he was defeated, but still a bit curious to how his father could possibly know that he was lying.

"Well, that's not the shirt you left the house in, is it?"

Hamish looked up to see Sherlock's face. "No, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Why did you change your shirt?"

"It got dirty."

"So, what does that matter? Why would you want to change your shirt, when it got a little dirt on it. Weren't you playing on the playground?"

"Well..."

"So, you want to impress someone, right?"

Hamish began looking down at the ground embarrassed.

"Right, so I'm correct, am I not?"

Hamish didn't answer.

"But who would you want to impress? Why?"

Hamish continued to look down, not answering his father.

"Why would you want to impress someone, you're eight, who's there to impress."

The room fell silent until John finally realized he was capable of making deductions as well.

"Hamish, are you trying to impress a girl?"

Hamish's mouth opened a little, the way it always did when he was surprised- or in this case caught.

Sherlock's head made an 180 so fast, John thought he neck was going to break. If Sherlock had been drinking something, he surely would have done a spit-take.

"So it is?" John giggled. "What's the girl's name?"

Hamish stared at the ground complexed, and Sherlock just stood there, stunned at how this was even possible.

"Lily... her name is Lily."

John laughed again, but not mockingly of course. He was just shocked that the child raised by Sherlock was capable of actually getting a girlfriend.

Sherlock gulped and finally was able to say something. "So, this Lily girl, is your... girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend!" he said defensively.

"Where did the two of you go?" John asked.

"We went to the ice cream parlor down the street from the school."

"And did you pay?"

"Yeah... so?"

"And you say you're not dating."

"Of course not."

"You better add a 'yet' at the end of that sentence."

Sherlock stared shockingly over at John, surprised at how unfazed he was with their child dating.

Hamish glared at both of his fathers, before he picked up his backpack and grumbled, "She's not my girlfriend."

John sat back again and had another laugh, and looked at Sherlock, "Oh lighten up, maybe we could have her over for dinner sometime."

Sherlock sat back again on the couch, realizing he beloved child was growing up.

A/N: Thank you for reading chapter 1! This is my first Sherlock fanfiction, and the first thing I've uploaded in quite a while (sorry about that). I'm not in school right now, so I have free time to start writing again, so hopefully Chapter 2 will be uploaded in the week!

Oh, and the picture I used isn't mine (I think it's a gif actually). I found it from tumblr, and if you're ever on tumblr you would know it's what basically the entire family has decided is the face image of Hamish, their headcanon son.