[Zhongyingmei] There are new relationships every day

John H. Watson, a former military doctor who can be said to be excellent.

Now working in a small clinic in London... half an hour ago, still there.

But at this moment, Watson, who was politely dismissed by the clinic owner, really wanted to go home and pulled his roommate by the collar, shaking his proud and magical head unconscious.

Yes, in London, where land is at a premium, he has a flatmate.And this roommate... changed his life and put him out of work again.

Standing on the side of the road, Watson couldn't help sighing again.

I can still find a job after I lose my job, but I have to go back to sleep at night.

He scratched his hair, like a simple and cute teddy bear, and returned to his rented house, 221B Baker Street, with the dinner he bought.

Before he reached the door, the messy and even harsh sound of the violin filled his ears.

Watson: "..."

Well, his roommate, the world's only consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes - is in his own world again.

Watson took a deep breath and stepped up the stairs anyway.

As soon as he opened the door, he was startled by the people in the room, and he couldn't help but took a step back.

——There are now two people standing in the room.

Two men with the same curly hair and long faces wearing trench coats.One big and one small, they are subtly similar in appearance and behavior. The two of them are holding a violin, and their pale faces are expressionless, and they are all staring at him.

Watson: "..."

What's happening here? !

Watson subconsciously looked at the door, then at the two people standing by the window in the room, and gasped:

"Sherlock! Your son?!"

Mr. Military Doctor got a very different answer.

"Do not."

"Uncle John."

The one who called him uncle was the real little Sherlock Holmes.

He looked like he was in his early teens, and his original expression was the same as that of Sherlock Holmes, but after calling Watson's name, he laughed, and there was a shallow dimple on his left cheek, which instantly became cute.

He has eyes different from Sherlock's.

The boy's eyes are round and blue, as if reflecting the clear sky.But he has the same curly hair as Sherlock, and even the hairline overlaps slightly.

Watson licked his lips, blinked, and raised his hand to give a slight signal: "...I brought dumplings, do you want to eat?"

Little Holmes put the violin in his hand aside, rolled up his sleeves, and his cool voice became friendly with the change of pitch. He smiled and said, "Thank you, Uncle John."

Watson was a little unspeakably nervous. He rubbed his hands, put the things on the table, and sat on the sofa by himself.

He looked at the little boy who sat obediently, and felt that he was not so similar to Sherlock.

Watson couldn't help asking him, "Hi, uh, I mean, what's your name?"

Little Holmes was already hungry and swallowed a dumpling.

He chewed slowly, showing good upbringing, then put down his chopsticks and smiled again: "I am Conan, Conan Holmes. Well, Sherlock is my father."

Watson has a sense of fate of "as expected", and a sense of absurdity of "how could it be".

Xia, Sherlock, does this guy actually have a child? !

Sherlock, who was standing by the window, thought otherwise.

He seemed a little anxious, and the violin in his hand began to play the next noise, which made little Holmes frowned, wiped his hands and went to pick up his own violin.

Watson: "..."

Help!

The magic sound lasted for nearly 3 minutes, and finally Sherlock put down the violin first.

He sat on his own sofa and began to look up and down "his son".

Those gray-blue inorganic eyes glanced at the boy who claimed to be his son, and he didn't show a little distress.

The boy wasn't lying.

Sherlock tried several times with his deductive method, and the boy who called himself Conan Holmes, the clothes on his body, the expression on his face, and the content of his words, all did not lie.

—but Sherlock swore on his Mr. Skull that he would never have such a child, never.

Watson was still chatting with Conan.

Although at first glance, Conan and Sherlock are not easy to get along with, but to be honest, little Sherlock Holmes is much more likable than his father.

Or it can be said to be down-to-earth.

Conan had already taken off the coat he was wearing, revealing a light gray shirt, which looked more cute, and even the fluffy little curly hair became cute, and there was no similarity between Sherlock and Sherlock for a while.

Watson's favorability for Conan is up, and he has chatted to a topic that seems to be hidden.

"Uh...you said that Sherlock is your father?" Watson touched his nose, "I mean, that is, your mother didn't contact Sherlock? Uh... no, I mean, your mother is ..."

Both big and small Sherlock Holmes spoke at the same time:

"Alicia."

When Watson turned his head, Sherlock was still swaggeringly sitting in the middle of the sofa, with his long legs crossed and his eyes narrowed slightly.

Conan also turned his head, his curly hair curled up and down.

Little Holmes tilted his head: "So you know."

Sherlock stared at him with no emotion in his eyes.

Little Holmes stood up: "So, do you believe me?"

Sherlock still didn't answer him.

For a moment, the atmosphere became awkward.

When Watson felt as if he wanted to escape, Sherlock finally said, "How is she in your world?"

Little Holmes had no expression on his face, and looked like Sherlock was carved out of the same mold: "After the divorce, she has a hundred times better life than before."

Watson: "???"

Is it so cruel? !

***

Watson has lost his job, and he plans to take a vacation for himself these few days.

He came out of the room after a nap, and found that the extra child named Conan was lying on the table writing and drawing yesterday.

Watson was stunned for a while before he realized that Sherlock's son had come to him.

Uh... It feels like this is definitely not the only specific situation, but he can't understand the charades that the two of them Holmes talked about.

The ten-year-old boy was so patient, until Watson came back with a simple breakfast, he was still writing at the table.

Watson coughed as a reminder.

Conan directly put down the pen in his hand, turned around and said thank you with a smile, it was so cute.

The caring Watson did not give the children coffee, but brought a cup of steaming milk.Conan took the milk, thanked him again, and sighed like an adult: "Oh, Uncle John, you are so kind, you actually put up with my father all the time."

Watson: It is good that someone understands my miserable feelings.

next second.

"Sherlock is a good man," Watson couldn't help but give his nephew a good opinion for his friend, "he's just not good at expressing himself. You have to believe that your father loves you."

Conan's complexion was very fair, and after listening to Watson's words, a little pink appeared on his pale face.He coughed dryly and changed the subject: "Uncle John, are you writing a blog?"

Watson nodded.

"Then help me see, how is my story going?"

Watson was a little surprised and took the notebook handed over by Holmes, on which the story fragments were written in some immature handwriting.

——A story about a girl from the future wearing a mecha and riding Godzilla to defeat aliens.

Watson: "..."

The military doctor spoke with some difficulty: "...I thought that you Holmes prefer logical reasoning..."

Conan shook his head: "No, I just like writing stories. I hate reasoning, it's too boring."

Watson: "..."

No matter what kind of Sherlock Holmes is so difficult to deal with.

The speechless military doctor praised Conan's words with pale words, and then drifted away for a long time with a wandering spirit on his face.

Mrs. Hudson was away for a few days, and the burden of the kitchen was on Watson.

Watson likes Conan very much.

The characteristics of this little Sherlock Holmes are still obvious, but he is very well-behaved in normal times, which makes the military doctor think that Conan's mother, who has never met before, must be an angel-like figure.

Moreover, 11-year-old Conan told Watson that he aspired to be an excellent writer and poet, and he would die for consulting detectives.

Watson: "..."

During the period, the two Sherlock Holmes had some verbal battles. Watson pretended that he hadn't heard it and didn't want to participate in the war between the father and son.

According to his idea, father and son will always be fine.

Until two days later, he took Conan out for a stroll, followed by Sherlock who somehow figured it out.

They run into a murder in a supermarket.

The chunky middle-aged man suddenly foamed at the mouth and fell to the ground during shopping, causing countless people in the supermarket to scream.

Sherlock: "...boring, it looks like love murder. This man's lover is dissatisfied that he gave up himself and chose a wife, and decided to kill him."

Watson: "..."

Conan squatted on the ground, gestured with his fingers, and began to speak in an aria: "Ah, how much bright red blood and silent sins are covered by this pale face."

After finishing speaking, those blue eyes looked at Watson, with a little apprehension and eagerness in his eyes: "Uncle John, how about my poem?"

Watson: "..."

He covered his face.

"...Would you mind telling me your mother's phone number? Please tell me!"

This day is over!

The author has something to say: Watson: I owe Sherlock Holmes something, can I still pay it?

Conan Holmes: I am a genius who aspires to be a fantasy writer!I don't want to learn reasoning or deduction, but I want to study literature!And I'm not a Shinigami pupil!

Sherlock: Huh.

Thank you readers "Dreamer", "Aizen", "Gu Moqing'an", "Lianmengzi" and "Li Niang", irrigate the nutrient solution~ Memoda

In the future, I will try to set the update time as much as possible. I will waste myself by staying up all night _(:з」∠)_

Seven o'clock in the evening or what time is better...