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I cannot recall a more prominent account of Mr. Sherlock Holmes completely breaking his composure than the day after his forty-sixth birthday. He had, quite deliberately, called on us when he had known his godson would be napping and worried the entire visit that the boy would wake and discover him. His discontent was immediately apparent when we'd met him what with his brow furrowed in consternation, and his graceful hands turning his hat by the rim over and over. Though we offered him a seat and some tea, he insisted his visit would be short.
"What's wrong, Holmes?" asked Mary.
He silently deliberated for several seconds before coming to a decision and speaking in that precise manner of his. "I have already obtained a present for my godson; however, I fear it will be insufficient. I wish to give him a gift that will encourage his curious spirit, but none of that which I have considered seems suitable for a child his age."
The thoughtful, handmade gift Theo had presented to him the day prior had made a considerable impression upon Holmes. Considerable enough that he was convinced this would be the birthday Theo would remember for the whole of his life, to which I can say he was correct. Every birthday previous, Holmes had made little effort with gift giving having been witness to how quickly toys were discarded in those first three years of life. For Theo's first and second year Holmes had thought it pertinent to give gifts that would be of use and thus gave clothes for him to grow into. For the third, he had broken and gotten a sturdy wooden horse that, for two years, valiantly withstood the abuse of a reckless child. I could not blame him for not being invested until Theo's fourth year, for I was certain the first three would never be remembered.
"What are you considering?" asked I.
"Well. He is too young to appreciate monographs or use a chemistry set. I had considered a toy pipe, but I doubt either of you would wish to encourage the habit at this age lest he wind up with a smoking habit to rival my own. A dog came to mind," he paused to shake his head and chuckled at Mary's deeply unamused glower, "but that would burden you both as he would be incapable of taking full responsibility for its care. You see, I am at a loss."
Mary and I ruminated over this matter in earnest. In that moment I had remembered Holmes crawling about the floor and ground with a magnifying glass. Another image came to mind of Holmes hurriedly handing one over to an infant Theo to stave off a crying fit when his pacifier had disappeared.
"You say that you are hoping to encourage his curiosity. Perhaps you ought to give him a magnifying glass," said I.
"Will he not scratch the glass in his play?"
"Inevitably, but it will teach him to take better care of his possessions. Do not purchase a new one, but give him one that is used," said Mary.
His smile was broad enough that the smile lines accumulated from forty-six years of life were prominent. "There is not a Watson in this household that is not brilliant. Thank you both!"
In his exuberance, he had hugged the both of us in turn with a quick peck on the cheek on his way out. He ran out of the house with the wild abandon of a man twenty years his junior and I laughed at the old hound, used to his mannerisms. When I turned, I saw that Mary's eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape. When I had cast my memory back, I found that I could not remember a time prior to this that Holmes had displayed to her physical affection with such familiarity. I feared, momentarily, that she'd been offended but soon saw that I had no reason to fear when she smiled with such joy that her eyes sparkled like sapphires.
"It has taken eleven years, but it seems I have finally become his earnest friend."
"Has he given you the impression he does not think you an earnest friend?"
"He is faultless as a gentleman. When he calls and you are not present, he stays for a conversation but leaves within the hour. There have been times he has consulted me on a case or has offered to look after Theo whilst I rest, but I've never perceived any warmth toward my person."
I was taken aback. I realize that I am likely one of the foremost experts of reading Holmes' every minuscule tick to denote his moods and thoughts, but I had been under the impression that she had known most of them. I had known, since well before our son had been born, that Holmes thought highly of Mary for her intelligence and sensibility and kindness. I had been privy to the genuine distress for her health when, once whilst he was not fraudulently deceased, she had become so deathly ill that I feared I would lose her. I had seen how, during his first visit after Theo's birth, his tightly wound shoulders relaxed, and eyes glittered with subtle joy upon seeing Mary hale and healthy. I had, more times than I could ever be bothered to count even then, heard him ask after Mary before even properly greeting me. With this knowledge it was near impossible to imagine that he'd not hugged her once in over a decade even in the privacy of our own home. Though, upon further reflection, I knew he was slow to warm to women in general and strictly kept his distance under the rules of propriety. There were, after all, strict rules of conduct between a woman and any man that was not her family or a childhood friend. Regardless, I knew that Mary was truly a friend in his eyes.
Moved to dissuade her of the false notion he had no warmth for her, I said:
"I can assure you that the friendship between you and Holmes is no less genuine than his relationship with me. I can, factually, inform you that in the last twenty years Holmes has purchased no gift for any woman apart from Mrs. Hudson and yourself. His regard for you is more than I think him capable of admitting aloud."
Mary did not argue against it, but rather dropped the matter in order to think it over.
Like Holmes, she was not verbal with her thoughts, but rather reticent. She did not steep her fingers or smoke or curl until her knees were at her chest in the nearest seat. Instead, she would busy her hands with a mindless task. That night the task she had chosen was embroidering and she had whiled away at it long after I had retired to our room. I had been genuinely surprised to find by my side when we were woken by our son the next morning, for some puzzles kept her up so far into the next day she forewent sleep entirely.
Theo, for his part, was so exuberant for his birthday that he'd paid no heed to me and had put the whole of his weight on my old war injury when clambering up the bed to wake us. Mary had scolded him for his thoughtless actions whilst I caught my breath, and Theo was so contrite that he'd clung to my hand and treated me gently the entirety of the morning. I could not but forgive him for the rather minor transgression considering he was a mere child.
His friends had been brought by parents and nannies to partake in the celebration, however it turned into four children running about the sitting room with abandon, only mindful of the few fragile objects left out when one of the adults reminded them.
"John, we have an unusually early guest," whispered Mary some thirty minutes into the festivities.
I looked to the door and had found Holmes handing off his coat and presents to the maid with a genial smile. I had expected him to slip in at the end of the gathering, but, in retrospect, Holmes had been of the firm belief this would be the first of many lifelong memories and had been determined to be there for his godson even if it meant having to interact with reverent admirers of his work.
"Thank you for coming," said I as I took his hand in mine.
His smile was slightly strained as he glanced behind me at our guests. "I would not miss my godson's birthday party."
"You must be prepared to be dragged into games with the children," warned Mary humorously. "You have, after all, made the mistake of being the 'playful' uncle."
"A sacrifice I am willing to make for the sake of our dear Watson's old injuries," said he.
Mary stepped closer to speak quietly enough that only Holmes and I could hear. "You do not fool me, Holmes. I know you are merely making this profound sacrifice to spare yourself the trifle of their caretakers."
Holmes' lips pinched together, and he gave her a reprimanding look for nearly making him laugh, but he made no denial of her claim.
My own composure was saved by catching sight of Theo finally noticing his godfather's presence and running towards us.
"Uncle Sherlock!"
Holmes turned just in time to catch the boy and bring him to sit on his hip. "Happy birthday, Theo!"
"I told Will that you can do magic tricks. Come show them the pence trick!"
Holmes spared us an indulgently exasperated glance as he set the boy down and allowed himself to be dragged over to the group of awestruck children.
Until Theo had spoken his name the first time with genuine joy, Holmes had kept children at arm's length if they were not his Irregulars, but he was able to interact with them well, nonetheless. Over two years with Theo, however, enabled him with enough skills and patience to tolerate four children watching him in awe or climbing all over him or asking "why?" hundreds of times for a single concept until his only response was that he did not know the why. Our guests were genuinely surprised to see the renowned detective was so patient and unendingly bewildered as to why he would rather spend the entire party entertaining the children rather than converse with the adults.
When the gifts were presented to Theo, Holmes had subtly taken one of the two presents he'd brought and set it aside only Providence knew where. Theo had received numerous toys that Ms. Swan, our maid, Mary and I would inevitably have to clean up and he'd delighted in every single one until his final present was given when all the guests had left.
"Theo, my boy. Come here," said Holmes as he sank heavily on the settee, exhausted after hours of abuse from children.
Theo climbed off of his rocking horse and trotted over with a curious expression as he noted the wrapped box his godfather held.
"This is your present. Open it."
Theo took the small box and sat with a thump on the ground before tearing the wrapping paper. He struggled, momentarily, to take off the lid and Holmes had to bend down to open it for the boy. Theo squealed with delight as he snatched the magnifying glass and peered at Holmes through it.
"It's just like yours!"
"It was mine. This was my first magnifying glass. You must do your best to take care of it for it's old. See how the handle juggles a little? It could break if you are not careful."
"I'll take care of it," Theo promised emphatically.
There are not many promises a four-year-old could be expected to keep for they are young and incapable of understanding the severity of their word yet, but Theo had held true. To this day, he proudly displays the magnifying glass bestowed to him by his world-renowned godfather. For the entirety of his childhood, he had treated the magnifying glass as if it were the crown jewels and it is now in very nearly the same conditions as when he'd received it save for the handle that he'd taken care to fix so that it no longer jiggled.
"Thank you!" cried Theo as he cradled his precious gift.
Holmes ruffled his blond hair fondly. "You are very welcome."
Theo turned to me and held out his gift for me to take, but when I had apparently taken it incorrectly, he fixed my hands so that I may hold it with both hands. I understood why he had put it in my capable hands immediately as he violently threw himself into Holmes' chest.
"I love you, Uncle Sherlock!"
Holmes gaped for half of a second before he hugged the boy close to his chest and hid his face in the riotous curls to mutter what was undoubtedly the same sentiment. I heard a kiss just before Theo returned for his favorite present and ran with it to peer at anything that caught his attention.
Mary shifted from her chair to sit beside Holmes and pat his knee comfortingly upon seeing the bright gleam in his eyes. "It is a bit overwhelming, but he is as much yours as he is ours."
Holmes blinked at her. "I have no such claim. I should hope I will never claim him as my ward."
I rolled my eyes at the overly obtuse display of my friend.
"You are mistaken. Should John and I live to be one hundred, he will be as much yours as ours. Do you not love him above all else? Even John?"
He glanced between me and Theo and shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry, old man."
"There are no hard feelings. From the moment you put him on your knee of your own volition, I'd known I come second to Theo."
"Yes?" Theo called from the window on the other side of the room, proving he was capable of hearing his own name despite his later claims.
Mary glanced at the watch Holmes pulled out to check the time and said, "It's time for bed. Come say goodnight."
Theo whinged but obeyed. He sullenly gave parting hugs and wet kisses before allowing himself to be picked up by his mother. She paused on her way up to kiss Holmes' cheek and bid him goodnight, stating she predicted he'd be asleep before Theo given his rambunctious play.
Holmes stared after her with confusion that turned into delight as he looked at me. "After all these years, she seemed to have finally taken a liking to me."
I laughed.