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It was a source of constant amazement to all that when young Hamish Watson-Holmes wasn't feeling well, it was Sherlock, not John, that he turned to for cuddles.

On one such occasion when Hamish was feeling poorly, Sherlock was to remain at home whilst John headed to work for a shift at the clinic, though only after extracting several promises from his partner that he would contact him if anything was wrong. (After the fifth such request Sherlock had been obliged to physically push his husband out the door.)

Settling into the sofa, Sherlock's phone beeped not long after.

Need your assistance with a new case. It's at least an 8.

-GL

Ignoring his usual protocol of conversing by text, Sherlock hit the video call button. Not bothering with social pleasantries he demanded a 360 view of the crime scene.

"But don't you want to come down and see it yourself?" asked the bemused Detective Inspector.

"Can't," came the short response. "Move the camera slowly."

Obediently turning his phone, several seconds of silence passed as the camera was slowly angled around the room. The action was interrupted when a soft groan was heard and Lestrade looked around confused before realising the sound was coming from his phone.

Turning the camera back, he discovered that he no longer had the full attention of the consulting detective as a small body wrapped in a blanket came into view. The policeman couldn't suppress the grin on his face as he watched Sherlock Holmes, Father, press a kiss to the crown of the young boy resting against his chest. "It's okay Hamish. Daddy's here."

He struggled to regulate his facial expressions when a small hand escaped from the blanket and tugged at the great detective's shirt. His grin widened when he saw Sherlock snuggle his son just a little closer before his head snapped up abruptly. "Got to go."

"Erm... How about..." Lestrade was interrupted before he got any further.

"Talk to the secretary. They were having an affair." And with that, the screen went blank.

The Detective Inspector was still looking at his phone when Donovan approached moments later. "Freak on his way?"

"Um no," fumbled Lestrade as he looked up. "Hamish is sick."

"And John left the Freak to look after him?!" she asked incredulously. "He's a braver man than I."

Greg felt a sudden urge to speak up in Sherlock's defence and did so. "He seems to be doing a capable job."

Donovan shrugged her shoulders as she scribbled in her small notepad. "We'll solve the case without him then."

Lestrade shook his head wryly. "We need to speak to the secretary. The victim and him were having an affair."

"And what evidence do we have of that?"

Lestrade just raised his eyebrow.

"Oh seriously?!"

Finito.