My son can't be this cute

Chapter 46

When Sherlock went to Barts Hospital to torture the dead body because he was bored, Molly with a ponytail knocked on the door.

Sherlock ignored it, feeling something was wrong today, could it be because John didn't make coffee for him when he left?Or sent a bunch of text messages but the other party didn't reply?The detective wielding a horsewhip looked a bit hideous. If the poor corpse could still jjj, the Barts Hospital would definitely let out earth-shattering screams. This was not the only corpse tortured by Sherlock.

"Sherlock, Teddy is here to find you!" Molly said helplessly when no one responded.

The movement of waving the whip paused, Sherlock put down his things and walked over to open the door, his son looked up at him with his small face up, his schoolbag hugged in front of his chest, his big watery eyes looked like he had cried before, but he was in front of him again Holding back hard, her little face was flushed red.

Sherlock, who has always prioritized observation over asking others' feelings, couldn't help but ask first. "What's wrong?"

With a loud cry of "Wow", Little Teddy hugged his father's waist and began to sob, tears falling like he didn't want money.

The long-haired girl was taken aback. When she first saw Teddy, he was still smiling at her, but why did she start crying all of a sudden? Molly looked at the father and son in a daze, did she just do it? What's wrong.

"That..." She opened her mouth, but was interrupted by Sherlock, or it wasn't meant to her, because what Sherlock said was nothing wrong, there was nothing wrong with the sentence itself, but that person was Sherlock Holmes, The mean detective who treats people all over the world like goldfish.

"It's okay, Teddy." Sherlock picked up his son, recalled Watson's actions in his mind not very skillfully, and gently stroked the other's back to make him stop crying so sadly.

"Parents...teacher...please parents..." Little Teddy said as he held Sherlock's shirts and crumpled them. "Teddy...no...it's not wrong..." He hiccupped and continued to cry, tears and snot all over his father's expensive shirt.

Sherlock frowned slightly, looked at his son, quickly combined and rearranged the observed information in his mind, and finally came to a conclusion that his son was being bullied.

"Should I call Dr. Watson?" Molly asked with some concern. Although Sherlock has a super high IQ, if you ask the parents, the girl is very worried about the safety of the school.

"No need." Sherlock rejected the suggestion, lifted Teddy's little butt up, took the schoolbag that had just dropped from Molly's hand, put it on his forearm and left directly.

"Sherlock, what about the whip?" Molly called to stop the man. This is something Sherlock values ​​very much, so he won't forget it.

"Molly, keep it for me. I will take it away next time I come." Sherlock left Barts Hospital with long legs after leaving this sentence, leaving only the dumbfounded blonde girl. The look in his eyes seemed to be angry, not that Molly had never seen Sherlock angry, but had never seen such a calm one, yes, it sounds contradictory, but it was exactly how she felt.

Biting her lip, the worried blonde still took out her mobile phone and called Watson, but no one answered, so she had no choice but to send a text message, but she didn't know that this text message was quickly flooded.

Sitting in the taxi, the driver in front of me took a few glances in the mirror, because the little boy was hiding in the man's coat and looked very sad. For a moment, the driver wondered if this was a kidnapping case. Since the last time That brother's report, the London driver seemed to be aroused with the curiosity and sense of justice in his bones, but that year only passed by, after all, the two people looked so similar, and the man returned to the little boy. The boy wiped his nose, looking slightly disgusted, but his eyes were very gentle.

Sherlock has always been a sensitive person, and the driver is obviously not a potential undercover agent. It seems that Mycroft has not been in London recently, too, otherwise how could he not care about it.His fingers gently stroked his son's hair, occasionally wiping away his tears and snot.

Sobbing and occasional hiccups, Sherlock smiled, parents, he must prepare well tomorrow.

After getting out of the car, the detective asked his son, "Are you hungry?"

The little head nodded, and he was not crying anymore, but his big eyes and nose were red. If Watson saw it, he would tremble with anger. No one could bully his son.

"What do you want to eat?" Sherlock felt that he had used up all the patience he had accumulated over the past twenty years at this moment. He didn't even put those dirty tears and snot on his shirt and coat, but he went home Then he decided not to.

"Daddy's cooking." Children who have been wronged are wayward little devils, and Teddy Holmes is no exception, hugging his father's neck is half coquettish and half threatening.

"Make it for me." He sniffed as he said it, and if he didn't make it for me, I would continue to cry, and I would even run away from home.

"Okay." Sherlock pursed his lips and agreed. There is no way to communicate with wayward children. Satisfying their conditions is the fastest way to shut them up.

When Angelo returned home, the butler said that he had a message for him. The boy took it and looked at it. The corners of his mouth curled up slightly. He went to pick out a star card, which was a charming King of Hearts.

"My game has already started, what about yours?" Angelo handed the star card to the housekeeper, although her age was young, but her handwriting was very beautiful and powerful.

"I want the fastest way."

"Yes, young master." The man with the shiny hair retreated with the postcard in his hand, and he was never curious about the contents during the process.

Angelo was sitting on the comfortable sofa, the flames in the fireplace were flickering, reflecting a strange look on the boy's delicate face.With his chin propped on his right hand, his eyes fell on the portrait, the corners of his mouth were slightly raised, and he inadvertently curled up in an arc, because the game had already started.

On the streets of London, four or five o'clock is the time when the crowds are crowded. In the supermarket, Sherlock put the little Teddy in the cart, analyzed the ingredients to be bought in his mind, and determined the best route and an alternate route , spent the least amount of time to buy what they wanted, and at the checkout, Little Teddy turned around and said tearfully, "Dad, you haven't bought me pudding yet."

"You should have told me just now." Looking at the long queue and the crowded supermarket, Sherlock said with a frown. He hates waiting, especially worthless waiting. The crowd, noisy voices, and the smell of various foods stimulate the detective nerves.

"I forgot." Little Teddy wrinkled his nose aggrievedly, "I was bullied, and Daddy is not here, you don't care about me, you don't even know that I want to eat pudding, you don't love me at all."

Sherlock looked at those accusing gazes expressionlessly, pursed his lips and said, "Then I'll get you pudding, don't run around."

"Well, I'll stay here obediently and wait for you to come back." Little Teddy showed a soft smile, watching the back of his father leaving, his big eyes drooped a little disappointed, he didn't want to cause trouble for his father, he didn't want to The parent was invited, and he didn't want them to see that he was unhappy, but he still cried, it was really sad, not fake crying.

"Teddy, be strong." The boy encouraged himself in his heart, just like in the past when he hugged the bear alone and told himself not to be afraid, told himself not to cry, and told himself that he was not alone.

"You're crying again." A deep voice sounded, and there was almost no emotion if you didn't listen carefully. Little Teddy raised his head suddenly, it was Dad, and he didn't leave.

"I knew you would cry, so I'd better take you with me. If I lose you, John will be nagging at me." Sherlock muttered, somewhat complaining.When Little Teddy came to his senses, he was already hugged by his father. He subconsciously put his arms around his neck and looked up at his father. He had high cheekbones and firm cheeks, and his thin lips were slightly parted. He said something similar to complaining, but the hand holding him was so warm.

There was a small arc at the corner of his mouth, and the boy leaned on his father's shoulder and said softly, "Dad, I really love you."

Feeling that the opponent's muscles stiffened for a while, and soon relaxed again, his father's chin lightly rubbed against his hair, and little Teddy nestled in the opponent's arms contentedly, even though he was a little weird, not careful enough, it was nothing Be patient, but just love him yourself.

Far away from London, during the meeting, Watson carefully twisted his stiff body. The meeting was so fucking long, and to be honest, it was really boring. It's a pity that Watson doesn't have Sherlock's habit of ignoring the rules. , otherwise he could make a perfect grimace on the white wall.

"Okay, this meeting is over here, thank you for your participation." When the speaker finally announced the end with a smile, Watson finally pulled out a sincere smile, thanking God.

"Doctor Watson, wait a minute." The young man ran to Watson's side, smiled and said, "Don't go back to the hotel for a while, just have dinner together, and go to the bar for a drink after you're done. Everyone will go, you Woolen cloth?"

The medic who couldn't refuse had to say yes, and it looks like he won't be back until tomorrow, hopefully without a hangover, God, that felt awful.Watson took out his mobile phone to call Sherlock, but his eyes widened when he saw it. It was not his mobile phone.

Pressing the center of his eyebrows, the military doctor had a headache. He felt that there was something wrong with his memory, and he took the wrong phone again. Just as he was about to put it back, a text message came.