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“I’ve arranged a play date for Hamish, forty minutes from now in the park.”
“What? With who? Sherlock, you don’t know anyone with kids! I’d also like to point out that the last time Hamish had a play date you showed them how to make Molitov cocktails and they nearly blew up the kitchen. Mrs Humphries won’t even let Hamish speak to Michael anymore!”
He wasn’t an idiot, he remembered quite clearly how the last play date went, there was no need for John to re-hash it now. It was because the last one was so disastrous that he had arranged this one. It took a lot of work and was borderline (or alright) completely illegal and almost suicidally dangerous, but it was done now and all parties were happy with the outcome. Now he just needed to convince John. “I’m aware of what happened last time and that’s why I did this John. Hamish is intelligent, he needs to spend time with people like him, who understand what he’s talking about and frankly that school of his isn’t cutting it. There isn’t anyone there who actually understands him and if you want him to have a normal childhood then he needs a friend. So I found one.”
“Sherlock, please tell me that you haven’t asked your brother to make a friend for Hamish. If you’ve tricked Q into creating artificial intelligence then I swear!”
Oh dear, John was looking rather purple now. That wasn’t good. Cutting him off before he could really get going, Sherlock replied “Nothing like that. Her name is Arabella and she’s the same age as Hamish. Most importantly though, they share a lot of similar interests and she is in the same IQ bracket as Hamish.”
John’s colour had gone down a little, but he still looked ready to explode, like he was just waiting for the right thing to set him off. Sherlock was hoping to have them all at the park before that happened. Then at least Hamish would have a chance to meet Arabella before things went horribly wrong. Hamish was watching them with bright blue eyes, his dark hair sticking up at an unflattering angle, well it was only a play date not an invitation to marriage, the boy would do as he was. He’s certain that enough time spent with Arabella would cure Hamish of his love for hideous jumpers. That was sadly something he inherited from his father no matter how much Sherlock and Mycroft hated it. He made shooing motions at the boy, pushing him towards the coat rack encouraging him to get ready as he eased John out of the house.
“It’ll be good for him John, you’re always saying he needs friends, well now he’ll have one.”
He had John wrapped in a coat and hustled out of the house by this point.
They made it to the corner of the road before John came to an abrupt stop. “How exactly did you arrange this Sherlock?”
Best not to answer that until later. Trying not to be obvious about it, Sherlock nudged John forward as the lights changed, keeping a tight hold of Hamish’ hand, the boy had a tendency to wander. “She interviewed for the same programme Hamish did, that child genius thing. She gets bored, just like Hamish does, so she quit as well. I know you had hoped he’d meet some children there and make friends with them, well this is the next best thing.”
They were nearly at the park, they just had to navigate around the yummy mummy’s out with their strollers and dogs then they’d be there. He applied a light amount of pressure to his son’s hand, making eye contact very briefly lest John noticed. Hamish understood at once, his eyes taking in the details John would never notice.
As agreed, Arabella was sitting on the swing set alone and looking rather adorable in a pink frock with tiny little skulls all over it. Her dark eyes locked onto Hamish and in an instant his son was racing to meet her, stumbling to a halt at her feet and asking about the residual chemical burn on her sleeve. Oh yes, they would get on just fine. John however was looking around the park for Arabella’s parents, obviously concerned by this whole thing. Discreetly, Sherlock motioned to Hamish, moving his thumb as though texting on an invisible phone. He took the hint, immediately asking Arabella for her phone number and email address so they could chat. Proving to be her father’s daughter she was already two steps ahead of them, pulling a scrap of purple scented paper out of a pocket and shoving it at the taller boy. Sherlock’s smile soon vanished entirely, when Sebastian came into view and John finally paid attention to the little girl by the swings.
He was considering how to answer when John continued, “You know it's funny, she almost reminds me of Moriarty, with those dark eyes and that pale skin.”
The silence was deafening, but Sherlock had known it was coming. “Is that? Really Sherlock? Did you truly set our son up on a play date with your arch enemy’s kid?”
It was at this point that Sebastian decided to help, honestly Sherlock was grateful for the reprieve. “Doctor Watson, I admit I was unsure about it, but Jim and Sherlock were rather insistent. You know how they can be.”
That charming smile and barely there Irish lilt did nothing to remove the frown from John’s face, but Sebastian persisted, “Bella has trouble making friends, everyone in her school is so dull and boring that she finds other ways to spend her time, trying to find distractions. She’s just like her father for that, she can be very single minded when she wants. They thought this might be a good way for her to connect with someone on her level. After all, the only person on Jim’s level is Sherlock, so it made sense.”
John was building a full head of steam now, his jaw was ticking slightly and his entire body thrummed with tension. “I understand that this situation is awkward and that you had no warning, but I would ask that you not judge my daughter by your feelings for Jim. She is not him and deserves to be treated as her own person. Nothing is going to happen to your son, those two have come to an agreement, no more games. They’ll behave themselves and we’ll all try to act like grown ups. I think Jim is hoping that given enough time, we’ll all be friends. He’s never really had one.”
Sherlock knew the instant Sebastian won him over, could pinpoint it to the second, but he tried not to let it show. He knew he would be sleeping on the couch tonight and that John would still be furious that he hadn’t know about it. There would be another blow-up when Jim came to collect Arabella for the next play date and Mycroft would no doubt stick his oar in to stir things up. But John was watching the children, heads bowed together as the tried to dissect a worm using a broken pencil from Hamish’ pocket, John would never deny his son anything not even this. “Alright then, we’ll be friends. Hamish come on, we’re going to be late for tea with Mrs. Hudson. Arabella can come over tomorrow if her dad says it’s ok. You can show her your experiments and I’ll make my famous lasagna. Sound good?”
Hamish smiled in excitement and Arabella flashed her dimples which made Sebastian snort, they could do this.