30 Years Can Go By (Sequel to 60 Ways-ParentLock-BBC Sherlock)

Chapter Seven

IMPORTANT!!!!

So, if you haven't already seen, I posted something on my comments board. Basically, if 60 Ways gets to 50,000 read, I'm going to add a bonus chapter! So tell all of your friends to read it, even if they don't watch the show. And if they don't watch the show why are you friends with them anyway?

I bet you weren't expecting the next update so soon! i told you i would getting better! I was feeling very deep when I wrote the first part of this...

I hope you enjoy reading! Sorry, it's a bit short. But I don't do long chapters.

Vomment, fan and tell your friends!

~BB

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 7

Click...click...click...

I stared down at my nails. I needed to stop biting them. It had become a habit ever since Hamish had gone away to Uni last week.

He had gone to Cambridge University. Arthur has chosen to go there the year before because he knew Hamish wanted to go there.

Hamish had been correct in saying that I had nothing to worry about when it came to Arthur. They had been together for nearly three years. When Arthur had been away last year, I could see that it was difficult for Hamish, but he was definitely happier than he had been when he was younger. And with Arthur's influence he had made a few other friends that kept him busy on the weekends.

"Sherlock, you have to stop biting your nails," John reminded me. "That's not good for your teeth."

"Yes, I'm aware," I said, looking out the window.

My eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where my violin sat, collecting dust. I hadn't played in over a year.

I pushed myself out of the chair. I swept a stripe of dust off of my violin with my thumb and studied the glossy wood that was revealed. It was so smooth, so ordinary. No texture, no patterns. And yet it was as if I could hear it screaming that it wanted to be played.

That was another thing I had been doing in the past week. Without Hamish to look after, I had become quite bored. I found myself examining such simple things so intently.

I brushed the rest of the dust off of the instrument and tucked it under my chin. Grabbing the bow off of the music stand, I checked to see if the violin was still in tune.

I held the bow to the string and started to play the notes that flew through my mind. I closed my eyes and let myself be consumed by the music filling my ears.

I wasn't sure how long I'd played for, but when I was done, the sky had started to get dark.

"I haven't heard that sound in a long time," I heard John say. I turned around and saw him sitting in his chair, a smile on his face. "Sherlock, if you're really that worried why don't you give him a call."

"No, no. He's probably out having fun with Arthur," I shook my head.

"Speaking of fun, well for me anyway, we are going out to dinner with the Lestrades tonight. They'll meet us here," John told me.

We hadn't seen Greg and Molly in ages. The last time we had gotten together was at their wedding four years ago.

"At what time?" I asked.

"Oh, in half an hour," John said. "That leaves us enough time to..."

I placed my violin on the table and walked over to John's chair, slowly.

I sat on his lap and leaned down to press my lips against his. His lips were as smooth as butter and they melted against mine. I felt his hands in my hair and on my back and everywhere else.

This was something we hadn't done in far too long. This was something that I missed.

I had John under my control when the doorbell rang.

"Ugh, right now?!" I groaned, resting my head on John's shoulder.

"Later," John promised me. "Now get off so I can answer the door."

I slid off of his lap so he could stand up.

While he went downstairs to greet our company, I straitened out my hair.

I could hear Molly say, "I'm sorry we're early. I hope we didn't interrupt anything."

"Oh, it's fine," I heard John chuckle. "Please, come in."

They entered the living room. The first thing that I noticed was Molly's round stomach.

"Hello," I greeted them.

"Oh, it's good to see you, Sherlock," Molly said as she hobbled over to hug me.

"How's Hamish doing? Has he gotten any better?" Greg asked.

"Yep, yes. He's fine. He's off at Uni with his boyfriend, Arthur," John said.

"Wow, really? That's fantastic! What school?" Molly said as she lowered herself into a chair carefully.

"Cambridge," I answered.

"Very good," Greg nodded.

"Yes. And congratulations, by the way," John said, nodding at Molly's stomach.

"Oh, thank you!" Molly smiled.

"When are you due?" he asked.

"On November 29. Two more months," Greg answered.

They were beaming.

"So what had you been doing these past four years?" Molly asked. "You've kept to yourselves pretty well."

"I've had a good number of cases, as you must have seen in the papers," I said.

"Yes, we did see," Greg laughed. "What was that one where you proved your point by using the victim's artificial hair coloring?"

I opened my mouth to elaborate, but John cut me off, "We've also been making sure Hamish grows up to be a responsible adult."

"That's always good," Molly nodded.

"Yeah. It must have been hard with that boyfriend around," Greg said. "What kind of influence is he?"

"A very good one, surprisingly," I said.

"Surprisingly?" Molly asked.

"Well, he's Moriarty's son," I said casually.

Greg's jaw dropped. "He's Moriarty's kid and your letting your son date him?"

I nodded. John explained, "We've talked to Hamish about it a number of times. He and Arthur have discussed it. Arthur never got to meet his father, so he never had that influence. He's a good kid, Greg. Really."

"Aren't you worried about him getting mad, though. Hurting Hamish because you killed his parents?" Molly asked.

"We used to worry about that. But Arthur seems really gentle, really calm," John continued. I sat in my chair speechless. Why should they care so much about who our son dates? They haven't even been in our lives for the past four years. Molly was Hamish's 'Aunt' and we only heard from her every few months. Greg was his Godfather and we heard from him even less.

At least it was still more than we heard from Mycroft. I didn't think it was a bad thing that Hamish had never met his Uncle, but it's like he dropped off the face of the Earth. If Britain's government wasn't intact, I'd be sure he had died. And I probably wouldn't have cared.

"If anything happens, we'll take care of it," I assured Molly and Greg.

Greg nodded, knowing it was best not to say anything further.

"Shall we go get dinner then? We're getting hungry," she said, holding her large stomach.

We went out to dinner at a restaurant that John and I had gone to the night Hamish left for Uni.

After we were finished, we went our separate ways.

John and I went back to the flat and we finished what he had promised me earlier.