These beautiful little hands. Grabbing everything.

These beautiful dark eyes. Searching for something glittering and exciting.

These beautiful red lips. Smiling this adorable smile every time his Dads come in sight.

“Take him Sherlock. He wants it.” John and Sherlock stood beside the cradle.

“I think he is quite happy in there. Look at his eyes. They are sleepy. He didn´t sleep for,” he looked at the clock on the wall,” three hours.”

“No excuses Sherlock.” John said patiently and touched his hand softly.

“Okay, Uhm… how do I…?”

“Just take him in your arm.” Said John.

As John saw that Sherlock wasn´t moving, he took a step to the cradle and took Hamish on his arm. Hamish giggled and reached for John´s collar. John smiled back at his son and looked up to Sherlock.

“It is easy.” John didn´t hesitated Sherlock to take his own son into his arms. Since the arrival Sherlock avoided it to take him, even to touch him. But John could see that he couldn’t stand not to touch him. Every time Hamish smiles at Sherlock, there is a little flicker in his eyes. John just saw this once, where John told him that he wanted to be together with him. And Hamish causes this reaction every time he smiles his beautiful smile at Sherlock.

“I can´t take him.” Sherlock whispered.

“I will hurt him. I will hurt him like I hurt everyone. He is so fragile and little, I mean look at these little fingers…” his voice broke.

“Sherlock, stop.” John stepped to his partner, Hamish in his arm. “You cannot hurt him.” John whispered these words.

John reached for Sherlock’s arm and prepared him for Hamish. Then slowly he laid the little child in Sherlock’s arm. Hamish cheered and giggled. John was still holding Hamish, and Sherlock’s eyes were fixed on his little boy. Sherlock felt the warmth of Hamish body and joy spread all over his body. A single tear ran over his cheek and John wiped it with his hand away. “You could never hurt anyone.” Sherlock recognized that John wasn´t holding Hamish anymore. Quickly Sherlock put his free arm around Hamish. Another giggle. Hamish little hand reached out for Sherlock’s cheek and touched it softly. His dark eyes met Sherlock’s and there was this perfect moment that would last forever. This feeling would last forever.


You: John, Hamish is crying again -SH

You: He wants you to come home -SH

Stranger: Did you feed him? -JW

You: Yes John. -SH

You: He’s feed, changed. He’s even napped. -SH

Stranger: Is he changed? -JW

Stranger: I’m at work. -JW

You: He just won’t stop crying and he keeps screeching when I try to hold him -SH

You: I already told him you’re coming home. -SH

You: I can’t lie to him -SH

Stranger: Okay I’ll come home. Maybe he’s sick or something. -JW

You: Thank you -SH

Where did you go?

You’re now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You and the stranger both like Parentlock.

You: Alexander Moran-Moriarty made his way through the camp, looking for the medical tent, he’d been over the moon when he was told they were meeting up with the 67th Battalion, it was Hamish’s Battalion. It had been almost two years since the pair had last seen each other and all Alex could hope was that his former lover was still alive.

Stranger: Hamish sat in the medical tent and wrapped a man’s now amputated leg. He hated that they had to take drastic measures like that on the poor soul. Thankfully, the man would be sent home for his great service. He smiled to the man and turned to walk over to his desk. He heard rustling outside of the tent and he waved his hand in the air. “Come in, please.” He said, looking down at the man’s paperwork, turning his back from the tent opening.

You: Alex ducked his head as he stepped into the tent, not bothering to remove his hat that hid his dark hair nor his glasses. He eyed the Captain’s back before looking around the tent, not seeing anyone that looked even a little bit like Hamish. Maybe something had happened. Alex sighed, his tanned skin making him look even darker under the lack of lights, and making it hard for anyone, even those who knew him best, to recognise who he was.

Stranger: Hamish heard the man walk in and turned to look at him. His skin was tanned and covered in dirt. He looked him up and down and ran a hand through his dark hair. “State your business.” He said plainly, still looking at the paperwork and eyeing the soldier. He looked too familiar. He guessed everyone looked familiar when they always died in front of you. “Name, rank, and business?” He asked as he began to tap his foot, impatient.

You: “Moran.” He replied, glancign around the tent again, he’d changed his names on the enlistment forms from Moriarty to Moran, it was legal but it was easier to use and Lieutenant Colonel Moran sounded much better than Moriarty anyway. “Lieutenant Colonel.” He eyed the man before looking away, “I was looking for someone, doesn’t matter though, he’s not here, sorry for waisting your time, Captain.”

You: *wasn’t

Stranger: Hamish dropped his papers at the name and stared at the man in front of him. The features he knew so well were starting to form. Alex. His Alex. Hamish covered his mouth with his hand and took a stepped forward. “Alex… Oh my god… Do you, Alex it’s me. Mish…” He bit his lip as he said the pet name Alex always used to say. Two years. Two long years since he’s seen Alex. He couldn’t help but feel a tear in his eye that he quickly wiped away.

You: Alex frowned before it clicked and he stood there, just watching him, “‘Mish.” He muttered before a small smile formed on his lips, he leant forward, pulling Hamish into a tight hug, not caring about the people watching or if someone of higher rank walked in, it didn’t matter, “Fuck, how are y- I thought you were dead.”

Stranger: Hamish smiled and wrapped his arms around the man. “No, I just got moved. Oh my god, Alex.” He cried burying his face into his neck. Honestly, he had thought the same thing of Alex. Heard someone in Alex’s platoon had gotten blown up and he was one of the only people on the spot. “I-I missed you. I-I thought you got blown up and-” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Crying was a weakness but he didn’t care. Alex was back.

You: Alex closed his eyes, holding Hamish close. He pulled back after a few moments, brushing his thumb under his eye to get rid of the tears, “What time do you get off? When does your replacement get on?” He asked, looking him straight in the eyes and seeing noticible things, like the way he licked his lips, and the way he blinked, such subtle things but Alex had missed them most.

Stranger: Hamish smiled and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m being an idiot. My replacement comes on duty in a couple of hours.” He said looking over Alex’s face. He was exactly the same. Except for the tanner skin. Everything he loved was still there. Hamish licked his lips and placed a small kiss on his cheek. “You have no idea how relieved I am to see you, Alex.”

You: Alex smiled, pulling of his glasses and rubbed his eyes, pressing a kiss to Hamish’s forehead, “I can save you a seat at the mess, or I could grab some food,and we could do to my tent?” He offered, taking Hamish’s hand.

Stranger: “Your tent sounds brilliant.” Hamish chuckled, intertwining their fingers together. “Two years… Two years and you look the same. Rugged and handsome.” He smiled, looking over his face. That’s when he remembered he was looking for someone. “Oh, you said you came here to look for someone. Who was it? Maybe they’re in another tent.” He smiled encouragingly, looking at all the wounded soldiers.

You: Alex laughed, “No, I found him.” He smiled, pulling Hamish against him and wrapped an arm around his waist, “I found who I was looking for and I’ve never been happier.”

Stranger: Hamish’s eyes widened and his breath hitched. “You were looking for me…” Without hesitation, Hamish crushed his lips the Alex’s and wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck. He didn’t care who saw. A bomb could hit and he would be perfectly alright with that. He pulled off his helmet and ran his hand through the oh so familiar black hair.

You: Alex rested one of his hands to Hamish’s cheek, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. He heard someone wolf-whistle and Alex pulled back, grinning like an idiot at Hamish, “My tent, yeah? You’ll find it easily, just ask around.”

Stranger: At the whistle, Hamish felt his cheeks redden. “Right, your tent. I’ll find it.” He smiled, looking at his feet and loosening his grip on Alex. He shot a glare at the laughing patients and then covered his face with his hands, embarrassed. “I’ll be there.” He said through his hands.

You: Alex pulled Hamish’s hands away before giving him another haste kiss and moving out of the tent, putting his glasses back on when he got outside so he could find his tent to grab a change of unifrom, his cerimonial uniform instead of his DPCU’s [Disruptive Pattern Camaflauge Unifrom] and a towel along with soap and contact lenses, he made his way to the bathrooms, glad everyone was off doing their duties before he got in the showe.

Your conversational partner has disconnected.


Laptop may or may not be broken, so although my deadline is gone I won’t be replying to much for a while, it’s just a hassle to do on iPad and although I appear to be doing a degree in being an adobe wizard, I still can’t figure it out.

On the upside I had a crazy dream last night;

A verse where the-governments-daughter and i-am-hamishwatsonholmes are both dating Alex in a weird kinda way and she gets very worried about either one of them getting jealous and walks in to them both having coffee together hoping they’re not fighting.
Turns out their bitching about all the annoying little quirks she has and all of a sudden she thinks jealousy would be easier to deal with than her boyfriend and girlfriend ganging up on her for wearing 90’s mom jeans on her days off with holes in the knees.