Chapter Text
John laughed as he tried to get up but Sherlock tightened his hold on him and pulled him close to keep him in bed. He didn’t really blame him since he was honestly a bit reluctant to get up himself, the two of them having started their morning with John bringing his boyfriend breakfast in bed followed by an intense round of rough lovemaking that left them both feeling rather boneless–Sherlock more than him though, he was sure. And he couldn’t say he was too surprised Sherlock was feeling a little clingy since he’d wanted more post-sex cuddles than usual after the first time he came down from the endorphin overload getting a bit intense caused as well, but he’d given him enough cuddles and kisses he should feel ok now if they got up.
“We can’t stay in bed all day, sweetheart,” he reminded him in amusement even as he lovingly stroked along the other man’s hips and sides rather than trying to pull away again.
“We could, actually. You’re not scheduled to work today unless you’re called in for an emergency, which hasn’t happened as of yet, Lestrade hasn’t called to say he has a case for us, and if we get any clients today Harry can talk to them herself and let us know if we’ve got anything interesting,” Sherlock countered.
“Yes, but we’ve already been in bed for a good chunk of the morning. It’s probably getting close to lunch already.”
“And whose fault is that?”
John snorted. “Both of ours, but mostly yours since you’re the one that wanted me to edge you until you couldn’t take it anymore.”
“First off, I didn’t hear you complaining. Secondly, you can hardly blame me for wanting it when you’ve been keeping things slow and easy these past few days even though I felt fine enough for us to get rough again after just a couple of days.”
“You’re the one that said you didn’t think you could handle sex like that often,” John cut in.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I said two days in a row, not after two days in between. And, thirdly, I thought you were supposed to do whatever I want today. Isn’t that how that’s supposed to work when it’s someone’s birthday?”
John laughed again. “Sure, whatever you want within reason.”
“And how is spending the whole day in bed with you not within reason?”
John smiled as he leaned in to kiss the pout from his lips. “Normally it would be. But I don’t want you feeling too sore tomorrow because I couldn’t keep my hands off of you long enough to let you recover a bit, for one.”
“It was rough sex, John, not a fight that resulted in grievous injury.”
“For another, we’re supposed to be having dinner with your parents later,” John reminded him.
“So? I can easily call Mummy and tell her I’m busy so we have to reschedule.”
“Wanting to spend all day in bed with your boyfriend isn’t exactly a good enough reason to reschedule dinner.”
“It’s a perfectly good reason to me.”
“Besides, I don’t think your mother would let you reschedule since she sounded pretty excited when she called a couple of days ago to decide on where to take you for dinner for your birthday and you told her you’d be bringing your boyfriend for her and your father to meet. And I’d still like to meet them too even though I’m a bit nervous since I’ve never been with someone long enough to meet their parents before.”
“Yes, and her excitement alone is reason enough to reschedule anyway. I always suspected she would be happy if I ever got into a relationship that lasted long enough for me to want my boyfriend to meet them, but with the way she sounded when I told her I’d be bringing you you’d think someone had just informed her it turned out there was a mix-up in the royal family at birth and she’s actually the rightful queen of England.”
John snorted.
“I know my mother, John. With how ecstatic she sounded just hearing about it, she’s going to be unbearable once she meets you. I definitely don’t mind putting that off if I can.”
“She’s just happy for you, Sherlock. Besides, I already know what to expect since Mycroft did warn me about some of the questions she might want to ask me. And you and I have already talked about those things ourselves, so I have answers I can actually give her instead of feeling put on the spot and telling her it’s none of her business.”
“It doesn’t matter that we’ve talked a little about it, it still isn’t her business. And, honestly, chances are if you tell her we’ve talked about either marriage or children she might start planning our wedding right then and there. We won’t even realize we’re engaged until she calls us a month or so from now informing us she has all the details worked out and a date set for us.”
John smiled in amusement. “Well, I’ll be sure to let her know you’ve informed me it’s none of her business then. That way she’ll be mad at you instead of me so she hopefully won’t hate me immediately.”
Sherlock’s eyes gentled as he cupped John’s face and pulled him down for a few soft kisses. “They’re not going to hate you. Just the fact that you’ve gotten me used to eating and sleeping fairly regularly now, even while I’m on a case, will be enough to endear you to them. But once they get to know you they’re going to love you.”
John felt some of the anxiety he’d been feeling about meeting Mr. and Mrs. Holmes fade at the reassurance, and he traded a few more lazy kisses with his lover before he eventually started to pull away again.
“John,” Sherlock couldn’t help but whine pitifully with a pout as John managed to pull back before he could wrap his arms around him again.
“No, come on, we really do need to get up.”
Sherlock let out a small huff at that. “If you’re going to insist we have dinner with my parents later, fine, but that’s not for hours yet. We have more than enough time to get in another round or two.”
“I told you, I don’t want you to end up feeling too sore tomorrow. I want you to like the few aches you’ll still be feeling then instead of feeling uncomfortable and regretting you overdid it.”
“I doubt it’ll cause any more discomfort as long as we go back to keeping it slow and easy. Though, I would like it to be noted that I would currently much rather prefer to have you flip me around and pin me down with a hand in my hair or on the back of my neck, and maybe one in the middle of my back, while you fuck me good and hard again. No edging this time though, I don’t think I want to wait to come, I just want you to make me scream.”
John groaned, cock twitching at the tempting mental image, and it didn’t help his resolve any seeing his boyfriend was already half-hard again. “We really shouldn’t…”
“Oh, but I think we should,” Sherlock purred as he moved to wrap his legs around John’s waist and pulled him down over top of him again.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Sherlock.”
“You won’t. I’ll just still be feeling it a bit longer than usual, but I definitely don’t mind that. I will pass on any more spanking though, I don’t think more of that would be pleasant at the moment.”
“Probably not,” John agreed as he let his hands move to caress the still warm skin on his backside. “I really don’t think we should get rough again so soon.”
“Not even if I say please?” Sherlock asked with a pleading look, grinning as this got him what he wanted and the next thing he knew he was on his stomach and fingers were tightly gripping his hair and shoving his cheek down against the bed as another warm hand was firmly pressing into the center of his back and holding him in place.
Needless to say, Sherlock was definitely a lot more sore than usual by the time they were both spent again and curled around each other as they tried to catch their breath, but he was glad to note it still wasn’t bad enough to be truly uncomfortable–though he was for sure going to be feeling it later and possibly most of the next day.
“You…are such a menace,” John said breathlessly, voice fond.
“And you love it,” Sherlock said simply.
John hummed in agreement as he lightly caressed from his lover’s hip up to his shoulder and back down again as they took a few moments to cool down. And once they finally had their breathing back under control and Sherlock looked ready to start napping, John leaned in to steal a kiss before he finally moved to get up.
Sherlock gave a small whine in protest again, but John didn’t let it keep him in bed this time.
“Come on. We need a shower and lunch, and I need to change our sheets since you made a bit of a mess of them.”
“I thought you’d finally agreed to stay in bed until we have to get up to start getting ready for dinner.”
“I never agreed to that just because you’re hard to resist and I gave in to one more round.”
“Must not be that hard to resist, otherwise it wouldn’t have just been one round,” Sherlock muttered with a huff.
John shook his head with a fond smile. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m definitely not letting you talk me into more after a second round of rough sex.”
“What if I try topping for the next one?”
“You know, I was actually hoping to take you out to do something today other than just to have dinner with your parents later,” John said with a sigh.
Sherlock made a bit of a face at that. “I’m not really in the mood to go out today. I’d much rather we stay right here.”
John let out another sigh, but he smiled as he gathered some clothes together for them to take to the bathroom with them. “Right, well, even if you’re not in the mood to let me take you out, I still need to get up. I have an errand I need to run before it gets too late.”
Sherlock frowned as he sat up. “What could you possibly have to do today that you can’t put off until tomorrow?”
“If you must know, I have to go pick up your birthday present,” John informed him since he didn’t want him to think he would prioritize a mundane errand over spending time with him for his birthday.
Sherlock tutted. “I don’t need a present. You got me more than enough things for Christmas, and January sixth is close enough after that most people would only choose one or the other to give me gifts for.”
“Is that what your parents did growing up?”
“…Well, no, but my parents are also rich and they loved to spoil me and my brother. But whenever I managed to make a friend or two for a bit they’d usually only ever pick either Christmas or my birthday to give me presents.”
“Right, well, I might not be rich, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to get you presents on special occasions even if said occasions are so close together. I’d be a terrible boyfriend if I didn’t get you something for your birthday just because it closely follows Christmas. And I’m lucky I have the perfect gift for you already since I was originally planning to give it to you for Christmas but it wasn’t ready for me to pick up then. I’d like to go get it soon even though I’m not planning on giving it to you until we get back from dinner later,” John offered since it was vague enough he didn’t think Sherlock would be able to guess his gift.
“So, come on, at least come take a shower with me and let me change the sheets for you before you go back to lazing in bed if you still don’t want to get up,” John said as he quickly texted Harry to let her know it was safe for her to remove her headphones since she was most likely up by the time they’d had their second round and had put her headphones in when Sherlock started getting loud, and he warned her they were heading to the bathroom so she should steer clear of the kitchen for a minute if she didn’t want to get an eyeful.
Sherlock grumbled a bit since he really hadn’t wanted them to get up yet, but he followed after John when he left the room and curiously looked him over once they were in the bathroom and John was setting their clothes aside and turning on the shower.
He wasn’t giving off any obvious hints that could tell him what his present was, but he could guess it had to be something he either had handmade or customized for him if he’d been planning to give it to him for Christmas but it hadn’t been ready yet. Otherwise he would have probably just said whatever it was had been out of stock at the time and he’d had to wait until after Christmas to order it.
Normally he didn’t care so much about knowing what presents someone was getting him, but John had said he had the perfect gift for him so that in itself had him curious. Add on top of that the fact that he’d gotten a small look on his face like he was both sure Sherlock would love it and worried there could be a slight chance he might not, and he was very curious to know what it was.
“So where exactly are you going for your errand then?” he asked once John pulled him into the shower with him.
“I just told you. To pick up your present,” John said with a smirk.
“Yes, but where?”
“Where your present is.”
“John.”
“You’re not getting anything other than that, Sherlock, it’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“You don’t like not knowing things, you mean.”
“Same thing.”
“It’s not.”
“Yes it is. I don’t like not knowing things, therefore, I don’t like surprises. So you might as well just tell me what it is now so I won’t already be expecting to hate it.”
John snorted. “You didn’t seem to expect to hate your presents at Christmas even though you didn’t know what anyone got you until you opened them when they gave them to you.”
“Yes, well… That was different.”
“Oh really? And how’s that?” John asked in amusement.
“Because…”
“Because…?”
Sherlock let out a frustrated huff. “It was fairly obvious to guess what I would be getting from everyone then, so I already had an idea of what I would be getting.”
John chuckled. “You did not, you liar.”
“It was easy to deduce based on previous occasions I’ve been given gifts by everyone.”
“Ok, I’ll give you that for Mike, Molly, Greg, and Mycroft. But you didn’t know what you’d be getting from me, Harry, Sarah, or Mum.”
“It was still easy to deduce,” Sherlock insisted.
“Alright, well, if it was that easy then it should be just as easy for you to deduce what I’m getting you now too. So I shouldn’t have to tell you or give you any hints,” John teased.
“You’re being unreasonably difficult.”
“Am not. I just think you’re going to love it and want to see the look on your face when I give it to you.”
“How would that be any different to if you just tell me what it is now?”
“Because it won’t hit you the same until you have it in your hands,” John said simply, because it really wouldn’t. Honestly, if Sherlock knew what it was beforehand he probably wouldn’t know what to think or how to feel about the idea of it, or he wouldn’t believe it. And, sure, John was fairly sure he would react positively to it, especially since he’d even asked Mycroft what he thought about his idea for the present back when he still thought he was going to be getting it for Christmas and the elder Holmes had assured him Sherlock would love it, but he felt like there’d be less of a chance of Sherlock telling him he still wasn’t sure he wanted one unless he had a chance to hold it in his hands first while knowing it was already his.
Sherlock’s eyes narrowed at that before John tugged his head down so he could wash his hair for him. Knowing that whatever it was would be small enough to fit in his hands didn’t exactly narrow down what it could be, and he just knew it was going to be driving him crazy wondering what it was now until he either figured it out, got John to give in and tell him, or actually saw it.
Of course, he’d probably be able to get a look at whatever it was when John got home before he hid it away for later. And even then Sherlock could probably find his hiding spot if he actually looked for it since there weren’t many places you could easily hide things in the flat.
Still though, after they’d gotten out of the shower and John made lunch and gave him a kiss on his way out the door, Sherlock immediately turned his attention to Harry and made his way over to the couch to take a seat next to her where she was wrapped up in a blanket cocoon and playing her simulation game on her laptop.
“What’s he getting me?” he asked as soon as she looked up at him.
Harry blinked just to curiously cant her head at the intense look Sherlock was giving her. “What’s who getting you?”
Sherlock tutted just to shoot her a small glare. “John, obviously.”
“Oh, for your birthday? I don’t know. I would’ve thought he’d already gotten it though. It’s not like him to run out last minute to get someone something unless he didn’t already know when someone’s birthday was coming up. He told me about yours about a month before Christmas so I’d know I needed to get you a birthday gift as well as a Christmas gift. I got both gifts for you at the same time and just held onto the one for your birthday to give to you at some point today, and I would’ve thought he’d done the same,” Harry said truthfully. “Speaking of which, do you want me to give you what I got for you now? I didn’t figure you were gonna be having an actual birthday party since you’re not exactly the party type, so I reckon it doesn’t matter when I give it to you, yeah?”
Sherlock frowned. “He said it was originally going to be my Christmas present but it wasn’t ready then.”
“Oh? Must’ve given you your birthday presents for Christmas then if he didn’t have what he really wanted to give you at the time,” Harry guessed.
“Perhaps. But what was it he really wanted to give me for Christmas?”
Harry arched a brow at that. “Why on earth are you asking me like I should know that? I’m not Johnny.”
“But you’re his sister. He must have told you.”
Harry snorted. “Told me what he was gonna be getting his boyfriend for Christmas and said boyfriend’s birthday? Why would he bother to tell me that?”
“Isn’t that what people do when trying to decide on what gift to get someone for a special occasion? Ask someone else’s opinion on the gift idea?”
“If you don’t know the person you’re getting a gift for that well and someone else does, or if you have no clue what to get someone and need some gift ideas and you both know the person and can trade ideas, sure. But he’s the one that knows you better in this case, and Johnny’s always been pretty good at picking out presents for people so I’ve never heard him asking for advice on what to get someone unless he’s already got something in mind but isn’t entirely sure if the person will like it. Even then, he’d never ask me for gift advice. I suck at getting people presents–I’m the one that usually asks other people what I should get. I asked Johnny’s opinion on the things I got for you before I bought them, and that’s the only reason why you liked your Christmas present from me. And hopefully it’ll be why you like your birthday one too.”
Sherlock’s eyes narrowed as he intently searched her face, trying to spot any hint of deception, but he frowned when he realized she was being genuine. “…Right.”
“So, present now?”
Sherlock nodded, deciding he might as well.
He did like her gift, a music book filled with modern famous songs that had the scores for all instruments played in the song and even vocal scores that she said she thought he might like to transpose to the violin to give himself new songs to play for when he doesn’t feel like creating his own pieces.
He definitely wouldn’t mind looking through it and seeing if any pieces caught his interest, especially since he had a feeling this was a gift for Harry as much as himself since she’d asked him before if he could teach her how to play songs on the violin that weren’t created for the violin. He’d be willing to bet more than a few songs in the book were ones she had on her music player, and he felt it was only proven when she immediately suggested a song to try transposing right away and told him what page she’d seen it on.
He decided to indulge her since he didn’t have anything better to do at the moment, and sitting around waiting for John to get back was just going to drive him crazy. The one she suggested wasn’t a very complex piece, so it didn’t take long at all for him to transpose the vocals and piano parts into violin scores, and he had her get her own violin out and pick one of the transposed scores to play so they could play together.
He smiled when she asked if she could play the more difficult one of the two, glad to see she was getting more confident in her playing to want to start trying more main violin parts rather than just sticking to the secondary violin parts that were usually always easier. She’d gotten rather good in the short time he’d been teaching her, so he’d been trying to encourage her recently to start trying more complicated pieces to start increasing her skill more.
He had to help correct her a few times and remind her not to tense her bow arm since he noticed she had a bad habit of holding her bow arm too tensely whenever she was trying to learn a new song, but their first play-through of the song wasn’t too bad. It took until their fourth play-through of the song before Harry finally started loosening up some, and by the sixth it was starting to sound a lot smoother.
His attention was eventually pulled from their playing when John returned home, and he frowned to see he not only had nothing with him but was in a completely different outfit than the one he’d left the flat in.
“You changed clothes.”
“I did, yeah,” John agreed, smiling as Sherlock gave him a calculating look before giving a confused frown.
“Mrs. Hudson had the change of clothes, you changed in her flat before you came up,” Sherlock noted based on the faint smell of the woman’s potpourri she had in her flat along with her perfume.
“Yup.”
Sherlock glared at him in realization. “You were afraid I’d be able to tell where you’d gone and, therefore, what my present is just by the state of your clothing so you gave Mrs. Hudson some of your clothes so you could change after you got back today… And you left whatever it is with her so I wouldn’t see it before later tonight because you know she won’t let me in her flat while she’s keeping ahold of it for you.”
“Yup,” John agreed again, though it was only partially true since he’d actually left it with Greg since he had the day off today and could take it with him if he got called into work at all.
He hadn’t wanted to risk Sherlock hearing anything from Mrs. Hudson’s flat and realizing what it was before John was ready to give it to him, so Greg was going to be stopping by the flat on the way to dinner after he and Sherlock were already gone to leave it with Mrs. Hudson until they got back since he didn’t want to risk leaving it with Harry and his sister being so distracted she wouldn’t hear her phone when he texted her they were on their way home and he needed her to hide it so he could sit Sherlock down and bring it to him himself.
“I hope you realize, with how secretive you’re being about this whole thing, I’m now expecting my present to be something amazing, and you’ll never hear the end of it if it doesn’t live up to all this hype you’re creating for it,” Sherlock said simply.
John chuckled. “Well, hopefully you’re not disappointed then. But, to be fair, I wouldn’t have to be so secretive if you weren’t so good at figuring things out just by looking at someone. It’s hard to surprise you, and I want you to be surprised.”
“You could just surprise me now,” Sherlock pointed out. “Harry already gave me her present, so why do I have to wait until after dinner tonight for yours?”
“Because you already don’t want to go to dinner, and if I give it to you now you definitely won’t want to go.”
Sherlock let out a frustrated huff at that. “Well now that just makes me want to see it more.”
“It’s just a few more hours,” John assured him.
Sherlock tutted and gave him an irritated look before looking away, but he still leaned into him when John made his way over to him and wrapped his arms around his waist as he placed a kiss to his shoulder.
The time seemed to drag on after that even with Sherlock and Harry still playing together and giving Sherlock something else to focus on, as if time had purposely decided to slow down because it knew he was impatient to see his gift now. The only thing that finally helped him stop thinking so much was when Harry noticed he wasn’t able to really focus and decided to put her own violin away and he switched to playing Vivaldi, and when even that failed to fully distract him he switched to Paganini’s caprices, having to actually pull out his sheet music for those, and was able to think of absolutely nothing but the music if he didn’t want to mess up.
When he made it through all twenty-four he felt much calmer and was contemplating other hard pieces to play to keep his mind occupied, though his attention was turned to Harry while he was taking a moment to massage the slight cramp from his left hand when he heard her mutter, “Holy shit.”
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you pull out sheet music before when you weren’t composing your own music,” John said thoughtfully. “Were those not ones you’re too familiar with? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you play any of those before.”
“Because normally I like to still be able to think while playing. Usually when I play I pick pieces that I can still concentrate on so that it keeps my thoughts from getting too all over the place, but it doesn’t take up so much of my concentration that I can’t still think about other things. Vivaldi’s pieces are usually the ones I go for if I’m really struggling with my thoughts on something and I need even more help focusing my thoughts while only being able to think about other things very little. Paganini’s pieces, however, which is what I was just playing, takes one hundred percent of my focus so I can’t think of anything but the music while I’m playing. So it’s rare that I play his music, which is why I need the sheet music for it.”
“But you’ve played loads of times to stop thinking and clear your head,” John reminded him in confusion.
“To clear my head, yes, and to stop thinking just enough but never fully,” Sherlock corrected.
“But why is that composer’s music any different than any other you’ve played before?”
“I’m sorry, were we not listening to him play the same thing?” Harry asked incredulously. “That was insane. I know I’ve heard him play some pretty crazy sounding pieces before that I don’t think I’d ever be able to play unless I’d been playing for, like, twenty years, but that? I don’t think I would ever even attempt that. I don’t even know how he moved his bow that fast. It made my hand and bow arm cramp just watching him. And all those slides he was doing along with all those vibrato trills? My fingers would probably be bleeding.”
“Fun fact, Niccoló Paganini was actually dubbed The Devil’s Violinist because his pieces were so technically complex and said to be impossible to play by other violinists of his time that everyone believed he sold his soul to the devil to be able to play the way he did,” Sherlock informed her.
Harry snorted. “I’d believe it if I didn’t just see you play that.”
“People seriously thought he sold his soul just because he was an amazing violinist?” John asked in disbelief.
“They did.”
“But that’s ridiculous! Clearly the man just practiced like crazy like you do.”
“That and he just happened to be born with Marfan Syndrome, which made it much easier for him to quickly switch between certain notes and that’s why he was able to write his pieces as fast-paced as they are.”
“Marfan Syndrome? Really?” John asked in fascination since that was so rare he’d only ever read about it and never actually seen it in his time as a doctor.
“What’s that?” Harry asked curiously.
“It’s a rare genetic disorder that changes a person’s connective tissue, often making them unusually tall with lengthened limbs and long, thin fingers,” John explained. “It can also make you look very gaunt and pale, which I’m sure didn’t help with the suspicions this bloke sold his soul for his violin skill.”
“Paganini’s personal physician wrote, in response to the rumors of the man’s pact with the devil and the comments people would make about how the proof was how his hands looked, Paganini’s hand is not larger than normal, but because all its parts are so stretchable it can double its reach. For example, without changing the position of the hand, he is able to bend the first joints of the left fingers–which touch the strings–sideways, at a right angle to the natural motion of the joint, and he can do it with effortless ease, assurance, and speed. Essentially, Paganini’s art is based on physical endowment, increased and developed by ceaseless practicing,” Sherlock informed them.
“But, again, you can play it. So why did people think it was impossible for anyone but him to be able to play it?” Harry asked in confusion.
Sherlock shrugged. “Because it is extremely difficult, but if you keep with it and keep practicing it’s possible even without having hands like Paganini. I would say there just weren’t many people back then that practiced as much as he did and also didn’t know how to improvise in the middle of playing if they messed up without it being noticeable. And I’m not sure how many people back then played purely for pleasure rather than professionally, so that could be a factor into why not many attempted his pieces or dared to make variations while he was still alive.”
“So do you do a variation then, or do you play it how he wrote it?” Harry wondered.
The time passed much quicker as Sherlock and Harry got into a discussion on compositions, player interpretation and style, and which pieces were some of the hardest pieces to play and how long it took him to learn said pieces himself. So much so that he was honestly surprised when John eventually got his attention and Sherlock saw he’d changed into a white dress shirt, his navy blue blazer, and his black skinny jeans and combat boots.
“Please tell me I look ok for the place we’re going for dinner, because you know this is the only formal outfit I have, and even then it’s only casual formal,” John reminded him nervously.
“You know I love when you wear that, so I’d think it’s perfect even if it wasn’t appropriate for the restaurant,” Sherlock pointed out.
“That’s really not helping,” John mumbled with a frown.
Sherlock offered a reassuring smile as he made his way over to him and leaned in for a soft kiss. “It’s perfectly suitable, John, don’t worry. The place Mummy picked isn’t that formal, I assure you. She knows I hate places that are too formal–I can’t stand that type of stuffy atmosphere, and our father’s never felt comfortable with it either. When she feels like going somewhere like that and doesn’t want to go alone she either goes with some of her snooty friends or takes Mycroft if she can catch him when he’s not too busy.”
“I imagine that’s not often for Mycroft.”
Sherlock snorted. “Not if he can help it, no. Luckily for him she actually believes him when he tells her he can’t go somewhere with her because he’s too busy with work, though I doubt he’ll be able to use that excuse now that he and Lestrade are together and he’s introducing him to them tonight as well. I guarantee you at some point we’ll hear her telling him something along the lines of how she’s glad he finally found someone and that she’ll be expecting to see him more often now since he should have time for his mother if he has enough time these days for a boyfriend,” he predicted.
“Anyway, is it time to leave then?” he asked curiously.
“Yeah.”
“Excellent! Let’s hurry and go then. The faster we get there the faster we can be done with dinner and get home,” Sherlock said impatiently as he took John’s hand and began tugging him towards the door.
John laughed at his eagerness, and he shook his head as he called out a goodbye to Harry and reminded her there was still some roast in the fridge from the night before that she could have for her own dinner if she didn’t want to cook or order takeaway.
He texted Greg once they were in a cab to let him know they were out of the flat so he could drop Sherlock’s present off with Mrs. Hudson now, and he tried not to let his nerves start building too much during the drive. It helped a bit that Sherlock obviously noticed he was starting to get a little anxious and reassured him once again that he was sure his parents were going to love him. It also helped when he reminded him that Greg and Mycroft were also going to be there so their attention was going to be on Greg as well and not just all on him.
Still, he felt his stomach tying itself into knots once they made it to the restaurant and Sherlock gave the name of their reservation to the hostess. The feeling grew worse as the woman led them through the restaurant and to a more private and quiet section in the back, and he felt his palms starting to sweat a bit to see an older couple, both looking to be in their early to mid-sixties, already seated at the table they were being led to.
He felt a little better about what he was wearing when he saw them. The woman had her silver hair done up in a simple updo, no fancy makeup or jewelry other than a pair of small diamond earrings, and a simple lilac strapless dress. The man, thankfully, looked similarly casually dressed as him–no tie, dark purple blazer to compliment his wife’s dress, though when the couple stood upon seeing them he saw the man was wearing dress trousers rather than jeans like he himself was.
“Oh, Sherlock, it’s been an age!” Violet said as she pulled her son into a tight hug once he’d made it to the table.
“It’s only been a little over a year,” Sherlock grumbled as he returned the hug.
“Yes, and that’s far too long, dear. Would it kill you to visit us more often than the holidays? You didn’t even come up for either of our birthdays,” Violet reminded him.
“Yes, well, I stay rather busy. Crime doesn’t exactly solve itself you know, and lord knows New Scotland Yard sure doesn’t solve it either,” Sherlock said simply as she let him go and he let her press a kiss to each of his cheeks.
“You’re lucky Greg’s not here yet to hear you say that,” John couldn’t help but comment with a smile, though he felt his stomach squirming with nerves again when the woman looked at him while the man was taking his turn pulling Sherlock in for a hug.
“And you must be the boyfriend,” Violet guessed as she held a hand out to him for him to shake. “Sorry to say we haven’t heard anything about you. We only learned about you a couple of days ago when Sherlock informed me he’d be bringing you to join us all for dinner tonight, and he wouldn’t even tell me your name.”
“That’s because you’re nosy, love. He probably knew if he told you that you’d look the lad up on your own if you couldn’t get Mycroft to tell you about him,” her husband pointed out as he offered the young man his hand to shake as well. “Siger Holmes. This is my wife, Violet.”
“John Watson,” John offered with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Sorry to be, uh, sprung on you like this all of a sudden.”
“It’s fine, lad. Sherlock never really tells us anything, so we’re pretty used to it by this point. Well, I am at least. Violet still seems surprised for some reason every time she learns something that’s been going on with him that he hasn’t told us,” Siger told him in amusement as he and his wife retook their seats.
“And we would’ve been surprised even if we had months to know he was seeing someone before being told he was bringing them to meet us. I didn’t expect we would ever hear of him seeing someone even though we’ve known his preference since he was a boy. I actually had to tell Violet he might be the type that’s just not interested in ever finding someone to settle down with.”
“Speaking of settling down, John, is that something you’re looking to do at some point?” Violet had to ask.
“We’ve been here for a minute,” Sherlock sighed as he and John took their own seats. “You just met the man and already you’re asking him about being ready to settle down,” he said flatly just to give her a look.
“There’s nothing wrong with asking your son’s boyfriend if he’s looking for something long-term or not. I think that’s something you should know if things are getting serious enough for you to introduce him to us,” Violet said simply before she turned her attention back to John. “So, are you?”
“Well, I was advised to tell you it’s none of your business,” John offered with a sheepish smile, relieved when that made Siger laugh and Violet give Sherlock an offended look. “But I will say we’ve already had a chat like that ourselves, so you don’t have to worry about us needing to have another one.”
Sherlock sighed just to roll his eyes. “I told you to leave it at none of her business.”
“Yes, and I was going to, but it still felt a bit too rude even though you’re the one that wanted me to say it,” John admitted.
“And do you have any thoughts about having children?” Violet inquired.
“Mother,” Sherlock said sharply just to give John a look that told him not to even think about giving some kind of answer to that.
“Violet, love, we talked about this, remember? You promised you weren’t going to start asking those kinds of questions when we don’t even know how long they’ve been seeing each other,” Siger reminded her.
Violet tutted just to give a small huff that had John smiling at how similar it was to Sherlock when John was having to remind him to behave. “Fine. How long have the two of you been together then? And did you know each other before you got together, or did you somehow manage to charm our Sherlock into a date when you two met?”
“It’ll be…eight months for us on the thirteenth, but the twenty-ninth will be a year since we met,” John informed her.
“Eight months?” Siger asked in surprise while Violet sputtered and gave Sherlock a stern frown.
“You’ve been seeing someone for eight months and we’re just now hearing anything about it?” Violet asked incredulously. “You couldn’t have at least told us you’d met someone? I know I would’ve wanted to meet the man that finally caught your attention, but I would’ve understood if you’d said you weren’t ready for him to meet us yet. I can’t believe you’ve been dating someone all this time and never once said a single word about it.”
“Has it really only been eight months?” Sherlock asked John curiously as he ignored his mother. “It feels longer than that.”
“No, the pool was May thirteenth.”
“Huh… Still feels longer.”
They were interrupted for a moment as a waiter stopped by their table to bring Violet and Siger their drinks and ask John and Sherlock what they would like, but once they were gone, Siger curiously asked, “So how exactly did you two meet?”
“We actually met through a mutual friend,” John admitted.
He went on to explain that he was an ex-soldier that had gotten discharged after getting badly injured in the field and that he’d had a bit of trouble finding work at first when he got back to London so he was struggling to afford to keep staying where he was at the time, and how a friend he’d run into had suggested he get a flatmate and told him about another friend he had that was looking for a flatmate himself and took John to meet him. And when asked when they got together, Sherlock cut in to tell them it was after one of their cases while leaving out the more extreme details of said case.
Thankfully, before they could ask any more questions, Greg and Mycroft finally arrived and the elder couple were distracted with greeting Mycroft in the same way they had Sherlock and exchanging greetings with Greg before the waiter came to get their drink orders as well and left again to give them all time to look over their menus.
“So you said your last name was Lestrade,” Violet noted. “Would that be the same Lestrade that our Sherlock works with?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Greg confirmed.
“You’ve known our boys for years now, isn’t that right?”
Greg nodded.
“Have you always been interested in our Mycroft then? And if so, why did you decide to wait so long to start seeing him?”
“Mother,” Mycroft sighed in exasperation.
“I didn’t really like him when we first met, to be honest. He didn’t exactly make the best first impression with me, so it took a bit for him to grow on me,” Greg admitted with a smile. “But after I got to know him better, yeah, I had a bit of a crush going on for a long time. But I never acted on it because I was married at the time. My wife and I didn’t split until early last year, so it wasn’t until a few months after she and I were separated that he and I started seeing each other.”
Siger and Violet both frowned at that. “Separated, not divorced?” Siger asked to be sure he understood that right since he’d called her his wife rather than his ex-wife.
“At the time Mycroft and I got together, but we’re actually divorced now.”
Siger relaxed a bit at that and offered a smile as he gave a nod, though Violet continued to frown as she asked, “That was a bit fast to start dating someone not long after separating from your spouse, don’t you think? And not even divorced yet.”
“Their marriage was over long before it was official,” Mycroft told her in his defense.
“Lestrade was the only one in that relationship that was trying to make it work. She never deserved him and he should have left her a long time ago, but it wasn’t until he discovered she was stepping out on him that he finally ended things,” Sherlock added, already knowing if he didn’t their mother was going to wonder if Lestrade hadn’t tried to save his marriage and if he hadn’t cared enough if that meant he might not care enough to put in an effort in his relationship with Mycroft either.
Violet nodded, reassured by her sons’ words. “Poor dear. I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m happy you managed to get away from her. You can’t have a relationship when only one person is willing to try and make it work, and nobody deserves to have a partner that would even contemplate cheating on them.”
They were interrupted again as the waiter finally brought them their food, and it was quiet for a few minutes as they all started eating before Siger turned the conversation back to John for a bit since he noticed Greg looked a little uncomfortable over having his ex-wife’s indiscretions mentioned. So he asked John what exactly he did for a living or if he just worked with Sherlock now instead of continuing to look for a job after he’d first moved in with him.
John didn’t mind answering questions about work, so he happily informed him he was a doctor and that he actually had a surgical job at a clinic Mycroft recommended to him. But he did admit that he kept a schedule that ensured he worked more with Sherlock than at the clinic because he loved working with him and liked being there to watch his back on cases in case he got into a dangerous situation.
He was really glad he’d talked Sherlock into sticking with the dinner plans since he was actually enjoying himself and found that he very much liked Sherlock’s parents. He was especially fond of Siger when he noticed he would switch his wife’s attention from one couple to the other anytime she started asking questions that were too invasive or made anyone a bit uncomfortable, and he also loved the man’s humor when he started cracking jokes to give both couples a break from Violet’s interrogations. And even though Violet was a bit intense, he couldn’t help but find himself a bit fond of her too since her intense focus and curiosity reminded him so much of Sherlock it was easy to see where his boyfriend got it from, and it was easy to see she just loved her sons and wanted to make sure they were happy and with partners that would treat them right.
He and Greg even shared amused smiles every time Mycroft and Sherlock would talk to each other and they would see Violet and Siger looking between the brothers in shock at how friendly they were being with each other. And John actually chuckled when the waiter came by to ask them about dessert and they not only all agreed but Sherlock actually suggested one that he’d seen on the menu to Mycroft that he thought he would like and Violet looked like she was about to snap at Sherlock for half a second before she realized he was genuinely making a recommendation that Mycroft was thanking him for rather than making a dig at Mycroft’s weight like he used to.
They seemed to be even more surprised when Mycroft got a call he had to go take after placing their dessert orders and Sherlock followed him outside, claiming to the rest of the table he was just wanting to stretch his legs for a minute but John guessed it was actually so he could have a smoke since he knew Mycroft always carried a pack on him, and he could tell even though Sherlock wasn’t too antsy or bored it was clear all his parents’ questions–mainly Violet’s–had been stressing him out just a bit. And since he knew Mycroft’s cigarettes were at least low-tar and he wouldn’t let Sherlock have more than one he said nothing and let Sherlock follow after his brother.
“Goodness, I never thought I’d see those two like that again,” Violet admitted a little tearfully. “It’s been a long time since they’ve gotten along like this. I really hope it’s not just a one-off because they were both nervous about introducing you boys to us.”
“Oh, no, they started sorting things out with each other months ago,” Greg assured her. “Their relationship is actually pretty good now.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! It always broke my heart seeing them acting the way they did towards each other for this past decade, especially when I remember they used to be so close when they were children.”
“Yeah, it’s been tough getting those two to get along for little get-togethers like this. It’s nice to hear them actually being nice instead of just pretending and insulting each other without actually saying anything insulting,” Siger added.
“Well, I think it’s safe to say you won’t have to worry about that anymore. They’re fairly close now, and it seems like their relationship keeps getting better the more they talk and see each other,” John said thoughtfully.
“Well I’m glad,” Violet said with a smile before she got a look on her face John and Greg had both seen on Sherlock and Mycroft’s faces whenever they were calculating something. “Sherlock can be quite cruel when he wants to be, especially when he’s upset, and it was even worse when he was having some issues with addiction.”
“Violet,” Siger warned lightly, able to guess his wife was just wanting to make sure John knew about that and was curious as to how he felt about it since it wouldn’t exactly be great if he was too flippant about it or angry about it, but it wasn’t her place to talk about that–especially if Sherlock hadn’t actually told John about it yet. After all, some people didn’t like to bring up bad things in their past they want to stay in their past.
“Yes he can. I can’t really say anything about that time you’re talking about though, since I didn’t know him then, but I’d appreciate not hearing about it from you since he doesn’t like to talk about those days and, with all due respect, I don’t think it’s anyone’s place but his to talk about it,” John said softly in hopes it would shut down that line of conversation, because he still didn’t like discussing Sherlock’s former addiction behind his back even if it was with people that already knew about it themselves. “But he’s been a lot better about being so cutting with people these days if he gets upset. Granted, he still has his moments, but it’s not as often as it was when I first met him.”
Siger smiled into his drink as he saw his wife give an approving nod and she changed the subject to Greg. Though he let out a long-suffering sigh when she started asking Greg if he thought he’d ever want to get married again and used that to say she assumed it must be hard for him to get used to no longer wearing a wedding ring only to finally get to her point of asking how he felt about the fact Mycroft still wore his even though it was on his opposite hand.
He nearly chuckled when he noticed John appeared to be getting upset for Mycroft when she said, “It’s a bit unbecoming for him to still be wearing it now that he’s with you, don’t you think? It would bother me if someone I was dating was still wearing a ring from a previous marriage,” and it was nice to see John clearly cared for his eldest son too and not just Sherlock.
“It doesn’t bother me in the least, actually. I don’t think it’s inappropriate at all, given the circumstances,” Greg told her simply. “His marriage didn’t end due to a divorce, so it’s perfectly understandable for him to still want to wear his ring. He told me about what happened not long after we got together and I asked him about his ring because I’d always been curious about it, and I could tell just from the way he talked about Eli that he loved him very much. I would never even think of asking him to take that ring off if he never wants to. He doesn’t have to stop loving Eli for me to believe he loves me too.”
Violet and Siger shared a smile and a soft look, and they both gave each other a nod in agreement that had John and Greg giving them both confused looks.
“Oh no, what did we miss?” Sherlock asked with a frown as he and Mycroft returned to the table as their waiter came by to drop off their desserts.
“I told you that you shouldn’t have left them alone with them,” Mycroft mumbled as they took their seats. “Dare I ask what you two have been saying? Or rather what Mummy has been saying?” he asked their parents with a wary look.
“Just making conversation, dear,” Violet said innocently.
“Your mother and I were just agreeing that you boys found yourselves some keepers, and we hope to see you bringing them with you the next time you two come ‘round for a visit,” Siger informed them.
“Speaking of, you two could visit us more you know,” Violet chided lightly. “After all, you two can clearly make time in your busy schedules to have boyfriends, so I don’t see why you can’t make the time to come see your parents more than a couple of times a year too.”
Sherlock looked to John with a smirk just to lean in and whisper to him, “Told you she’d say something like that,” while his parents were focused on Mycroft as he tried to make an excuse in his defense.
“Except you missed the part where she was fussing at you too and not just Mycroft,” John whispered back.
Sherlock rolled his eyes, though he smiled as he simply told him, “Yes, well, that’s because it was a given she’d say it to me too. She’s always fussing at me to visit more since she doesn’t think my job should keep me nearly as busy as Mycroft’s does.”
“Well, I mean, she’s not wrong.”
“Oh, shut up. You’re supposed to agree with me, not her. She already likes you–you don’t have to try to make her like you more.”
John chuckled just to move to press a kiss to his cheek as he assured him, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell on you,” he promised before he turned his attention back to Violet and Siger.
It wasn’t much longer after that everyone finished off their desserts, and John had to bite his lip to keep from laughing when he noticed Sherlock was starting to restlessly drum his fingers against the table and shift in his seat. Of course, he couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping him when Sherlock eventually let out three frustrated huffs in under a minute that caught Mycroft’s attention and had him giving his brother a curious look.
Violet, having noticed Sherlock’s increasing restlessness, finally let out a long-suffering sigh and gave him an exasperated look while Siger fondly shook his head with a smile. “I’m sorry, do you have somewhere more important you need to be right now?” she asked a little sarcastically. “I mean, you would think you’d be a little more happy to spend time with your mother and father after not seeing us for a year.”
“Of course I was happy to see you, Mummy,” Sherlock tried to assure her. “I was just thinking the waiter would appreciate having the table clear sometime this century since we are all finished.”
Violet tutted just to give him another look. “I doubt they’ll mind when your father and I always tip well. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a bit of conversation, dear.”
“We had plenty of conversation during dinner,” Sherlock argued.
John chuckled just to cut in, “Sorry about him. I think he’s just a little impatient to get home. I told him earlier I was going to be giving him his present from me after dinner, and he’s been impatient to get it since I wouldn’t just tell him what it is and he hasn’t been able to figure out what it is.”
“Ah, you must’ve said something about it to peak his interest then, because normally neither of our boys have cared to try and guess what presents they’re getting,” Siger told him.
“Because it’s generally hard to actually surprise us,” Mycroft pointed out.
“Either way, being impatient for a gift is hardly a good reason to leave dinner early,” Violet scolded.
Sherlock rolled his eyes at that. “It’s hardly leaving early if dinner is already finished.”
Violet tutted again just to wave her hand in dismissal. “Fine, fine, go on then. But I hope you know I expect you to come and visit us soon so we can actually have some time to catch up with you. And I hope you’ll join him when he visits, John. I’d love to get the chance to know you better, dear. And before you even start, Mycroft–I can see it on your face that you’re planning on excusing yourself too–I expect a visit from you and Greg soon as well. We can do lunch at the estate so it gives us all more time to talk without feeling rushed. Sometime next month, perhaps, since that should give you all enough time to free up your schedules.”
“Of course, Mummy,” Mycroft reluctantly agreed when she gave that look of hers that said she wasn’t about to put up with any excuses this time.
“Yes, yes, fine. We’ll figure something out soon,” Sherlock quickly agreed. “Thank you both for dinner, and thank you for all the gifts you sent,” he said politely as they all got to their feet and he moved to hug his parents and press a kiss to his mother’s cheek.
“You’re welcome, dear. Happy birthday, Sherlock.”
“Happy birthday, son. If it’s not something inappropriate, let us know what this gift of yours turned out to be. I’m sure your mother would like to know if it was worth you running out on us so quickly over,” Siger said before moving to give Mycroft another hug.
“It was lovely meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes,” John offered. “Again, I’m sorry about Sherlock being so impatient.”
“Oh, none of that Mr. and Mrs. Holmes nonsense, dear. It’s Violet and Siger,” Violet corrected just to offer him a hug as well. “And it was very lovely meeting you and Greg. You two take care of our boys, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” John and Greg promised in unison as she moved to hug Greg and Siger got one in with John next.
Once all the goodbyes were had and coats were put back on, they all made their way outside and Mycroft saw his parents off in one of his private cars before sharing another with John and Sherlock since they had to pass by Baker Street on the way to Mycroft’s estate anyway. Or, well, that was their excuse at least. Really, they just both wanted to see Sherlock’s reaction to his gift and Mycroft wanted to make sure his own gifts to go with John’s were out of immediate sight so as not to ruin the surprise before John handed Sherlock his present.
Greg couldn’t help but grin as he watched Sherlock slowly get more and more antsy as they got closer to the flat, and once they made it to the building he laughed as Sherlock barely even waited for the car to come to a full stop before he was opening his door and jumping out.
“Careful!” John called after him just to let out a sigh and shake his head as Sherlock called back for him to hurry up.
Sherlock arched a brow when he saw Mycroft and Lestrade come in behind John and start heading upstairs to their flat, but before he could ask what they were coming in for he blinked as John was grabbing him and pushing him towards the stairs after the other couple.
“Oh, no, no, no. Upstairs,” John ordered.
“Why do I have to wait even longer when we’re right here and Mrs. Hudson can just hand it to me?” Sherlock grumbled in frustration.
“Because I want to be the one to give it to you. Now get your ass upstairs and sit down and I’ll be up with it in a minute.”
Sherlock let out a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes, but he decided not to argue if it would make John hurry up, and he made his way upstairs while mumbling to himself that this had better be worth all this secrecy or his next acid experiment was going to involve several of John’s favorite jumpers–and he might put another head in the fridge for good measure.
He arched a brow to see Mycroft standing next to John’s chair where Harry was sitting and reading a book as he made his way into the living room and over to his own chair to take a seat. “Why did you and Lestrade come up?”
“Greg needed the bathroom,” Mycroft said simply since Greg had actually needed the bathroom from all the water refills he’d gotten thanks to the spicy dish he’d chosen to eat.
Sherlock’s eyes narrowed at that, not believing him for a second even as he heard the toilet flush followed by the bathroom sink running for a minute. He glared between them both when Lestrade hurried to join them and looked towards the front door as if waiting to see John. “You both know what it is,” he deduced.
“Or we’re just curious to see what it is for ourselves,” Mycroft countered.
“No, you know. You know, and you’re wanting to see my reaction. What is it?”
Greg snorted. “I swear you’re worse than a toddler sometimes, mate,” he teased as he pulled out his phone to get it ready to record, just to point out, “You’re gonna see it in just a minute when John brings it up.”
Before Sherlock could make a retort, all eyes were drawn to the open front door at the sound of footsteps, and Sherlock perked up to see John had a medium-sized gift box in his hands with a lid on it and a bow loosely tied around it instead of wrapping paper. He couldn’t tell what was inside just from looking at it, but he could tell whatever it was had a little bit of weight to it and could possibly be fragile based on the way John was holding it and how slowly he was moving with it.
John was careful as he walked, not wanting to jostle the box too much and cause what was nestled inside to start making noise, and he chuckled when Sherlock eagerly held his hands out for the box. “Happy birthday, Sherlock,” he said softly as he handed the box off to him.
Sherlock curiously arched a brow at how light it felt to be in that size box, only having a second to try and deduce what could be that big but that light since he doubted John would try to throw him off with the size of the box, just to blink as he suddenly felt the weight inside shift and he heard a small noise coming from inside that had his breath catching at what it sounded like.
He easily pulled the bow loose and started to lift the lid, only to gasp as what was inside helped push the lid up and he suddenly saw a little black snout poking out from the cracked lid. He felt his eyes tearing up a bit as he completely pulled the lid away to see what looked to be a German Shepherd puppy–mostly black except for little patches of tan fur under the neck, on the chest, and covering all four of its little paws–with a pink bow loosely tied around its neck.
“Oh…” he said in surprise, unable to keep from smiling as it let out a little, “A-woo,” in response. “Hello there,” he cooed as he carefully lifted her from the box, figuring it was safe to assume it was a girl from the pink bow.
He chuckled as the pup made a couple more little mini howls as if she were trying to return the greeting, and he had to wipe at his eyes for a moment to clear them before he gently cradled her against his chest and pet her from head to tail.
“John, this… You… I-I…” he started just to trail off, at an utter loss for words at the moment. “I don’t know what to say,” he finally admitted with a small laugh in disbelief.
“Well, you know, as long as you don’t say you hate your present I think that’s fine,” John joked a little nervously.
Sherlock scoffed just to give him one of his looks that said he thought he was an idiot that John couldn’t really take seriously with a puppy curled up against his chest. “Of course I don’t hate her. You just…definitely managed to surprise me. Out of all the things I thought you might have gotten me, this didn’t even cross my mind.”
“Yeah, well, after seeing how you were with that one in the park I couldn’t exactly stop thinking about the look on your face when you were holding it. And you did say you wanted another dog again someday,” John reminded him. “I just figured you’d waited long enough so why keep waiting. And I know one of the reasons you said you didn’t think you could have one now still is because of the work, but we could just as easily bring her with us. Knowing you, I’m sure you’ll have her trained just as good as any other police dog, if not better, within just a month or two. Obviously I already cleared it with Greg before I started looking–he’s actually the one that suggested I get you a German Shepherd.”
“Really intelligent breed, quicker to pick up on things so they’re easier to train,” Greg explained.
“Mmm, what do you think of that, huh?” Sherlock asked as he looked to the puppy, smiling as she started making little yips back at him again. “Think you can handle being a detective?”
“Oh my god, she’s so adorable!” Harry couldn’t help but comment as the puppy kept making little noises back at him.
“She’s a little chatterbox, huh?” Greg noted.
“Yeah, her breeders were calling her Kathy because they said she was a little Chatty Kathy,” John told him.
“I don’t know about that. Sounds more like she’s trying to echo Sherlock every time he talks to her,” Harry said in amusement.
Sherlock canted his head in thought as he considered that for a moment. “Is that what you’re doing? Are you my little Echo?” he couldn’t help but coo at the little fluffball, smiling as she gave another little, “A-woo,” as if in agreement.
“Well then, Echo, welcome to Baker Street.”