"Hamish, i'm going to tell you an incredible story.
The story of how I met your father."

"...Am I being punished or something?"

"No."

"Okay...Dad, is... is this gonna take a while?"

"Yes. Twenty-five years ago, before I became a dad, I had this whole other life. I think now is a good time as any to finally tell you about it."

The small, sandy-brown, curly haired boy shuffled in the great armchair uncomfortably. The armchair that belonged to his father. His other father in fact. John Watson. The greatest father in the world to be precise.  As well as his dad, Sherlock Holmes, who was also the greatest dad in the world too.

But perhaps apart from now.

He looked up to the tall, lean figure that was folded into the armchair opposite himself. His legs bent over one another in a 'trying-to-look-casual-but-failing' manner.

He noticed him awkwardly sweep a dark ebony curl from his eye as he raised his eyebrows at his teenage son.

"Well?" He asked, tentatively.

"Well what?"

"Are you ready for me to begin? Because it's a great story actually and there is quite a lot of murder involved that you'll like, and romance too of course but i'll skip some of the more adult content for both of our sake's , although it would be nice to reminisce on those old times but I wont go into too much detail an-"

"Dad. Rambling. Again. And yeah I really don't think I need to know what business you and father got up to in 'your days' thank you."

The older man paused mid-sentence, his mouth still slightly agape and a slim, pointed finger still raised.

He swallowed and a took a large intake of breath before exhaling slowly, showing signs of something that looked faintly like pain entering his eyes.

"You sounded just like your father then."

He gave a sad smile and shook himself a little, before smiling brightly and continuing with his speech.

"Ahem. As I was saying, it is a wonderful story and I am aware you have already read your father's blog about us both in the past years, and yes he did cover a lot but he never covered all what happened."

"How could've he? Back in 'your day' there were no such things as computer's I bet." Hamish replied, smugly.

"You'd be surprised." Sherlock said airily, with another raise of  his eyebrows.

"So our story begins way back in my university years. My final year of studying chemistry. And one afternoon I decided to take a break from working to go and 'wind down' as people kept tediously describing it. And so, more to get away from everyone, I went to see a film that was showing that afternoon."

-- FLASHBACK *flashback noises* --

After paying for my ticket, skipping any sort of confectionery at the time, I strode into screening room 2, and went to find my seat, 21b. ((a/n - heh heh im so original))

And yes I do remember the exact details but that's not the point and- Hamish will you stop grinning like that please its putting me off.

Anyway, I go to my seat and turn around to look out to the theatre.

Nobody.

Not a single person was coming to see Bees and Umbrellas which actually wasn't very surprising by the incredulously cringe-worthy title and horrible teenage rom-com plot summary Lestrade read to me before I left our dorm.

But, like I said, I needed to get away from people, and coming to see the worst film ever made was a very good excuse. 

Just as I settled down into my seat and waited for the film to start, basking smugly in my aloneness, I noticed a short figure march into the theatre.

I sighed an obvious loud sigh as I began to notice that this person was coming to see the film too, and wondering if they had also come to be alone, where I knew they would get a similar and particularly unpleasant surprise seeing me sat here, or, if they were some sort of creepy fanboy coming to see this film for their own purposes.

As the figure came more into view and stood at the bottom at the steps reading his ticket, I noticed it was the boy from my university who was taking medicinal chemistry in a similar field to mine.

It was John Hamish Watson.

Your father. But both of us innocently unknowing at the time.

The popular, smart, good-looking and dare I say hot star rugby player for the university, here by himself at the theatre, coming to see a terrible film and painstakingly unaware of the nerdy, unfit, chemistry freak sat huddled in the only vacant seat there, his chin resting upon his gangly legs, trying desperately not to be seen.

He made his way up the steps, scanning around for his seat.

He approached the row where I was now huddled in the tightest ball possible for an unnaturally tall 20 year old man to be in, and barely breathing.

He paused slightly and glanced at his ticket again before taking another step and sidling into the row behind me.

Being as silent as I could, I tried to unfold myself out of my hiding position, planning with baited breath of trying to slip away as discreetly as possible, when I felt a horrible feeling.

A sneeze.

I desperately tried with all of my might and with every muscle in my body not to release the sneeze but-

"ah-aah-aaahhHHHCCHOOOOOOO!"

I heard your father yell out and fall out of his seat onto the sticky, gum infested floor of the isle, cursing under his breath as he did so.

"WHAT. THE. HELL WAS THAT!?" He screamed at me, "WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT? I DIDN'T EVEN SEE YOU WERE HERE, I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SOMETHING WHEN YOU SAW ME COME IN?!"

"I-I- I'm really sorry I really am-" I stammered, "I just saw who you were and I didn't-"

Your father paused mid-shout and stared at me for a moment.

Unsure of what was happening, I stared back too, getting lost in those deep blue, oceanic eyes of his.

After a few moments of confused staring that felt like a lifetime, you father tilted his head slightly to the left and whispered, "You're... you're Sherlock Holmes right?"

"I-uh- yes I am. You're John... John Watson?" I asked, dumbly, even though I absolutely knew exactly who he was.

"Yeah, yeah- uh-I- um..." your father stutted, surprisingly turning bright red and no longer meeting my eyes,"It's good to finally meet you in person." he said, suddenly shy, reaching out a hand to mine.

"Ditto." I smiled, pulling out my own hand from my coat pocket and extending it towards his.

                        -------------------
thanks so much for reading !!!
i hoped you liked this first chapter, the second one will be written and published very soon :)))
hAVE A FAB DAY!!
~ emmii the emotionallyunstablefangirlfromtheabominablebride