My son can't be this cute

"Okay, I see." Putting down the phone, the blond man pursed his lips, thought for a while and dialed another call to that person, and the man's pleasant voice came through after the connection.

"I have to go back."

"Okay." The man simply agreed, and Moran froze for a moment, then asked cautiously, "You agree?"

"Yes."

"Okay." After hanging up the phone, Moran sensitively sensed a dangerous aura. He glanced at the two children nestled together, and quickly went out through the window.

"He ran away!" Max exclaimed, clutching Claude's clothes with his little hands.

"I know, be quiet, Max, I think someone is coming to rescue us." As soon as the words fell, the strong light of the flashlight shone in, and the leader was a man who had never seen him before. He was wearing a long black trench coat, Wearing a blue scarf, a pair of light-colored eyes glanced at them and immediately looked towards the window, with thin lips tightly pursed, looking a little angry.

"He's so handsome!" the boy exclaimed.

"Who is he?" the girl asked subconsciously, and of course no one could answer, her brother's eyes were already shining.

After a while, like a scene in a TV series, a bunch of policemen followed along, and there was a small man with round eyes that looked like a teddy bear, absolutely harmless.

"How are you feeling?" Watson asked, running over to examine the children.

"We're fine, sir, I just want to know who that cool-looking guy is?" Max struggled, pointing his little finger in the direction of Sherlock.

"He is Sherlock Holmes, a consulting detective."

"Consulting detective? What's that?" the boy asked curiously while cooperating with the inspection.

"Well, that's his own profession, that is, when someone needs to solve a case, he can help provide clues, but he is not a policeman."

"It's amazing!" the boy exclaimed. Watson felt that the little guy was fascinated by Sherlock, and hoped that he would not be disillusioned in the next second.

"How are they feeling, John?" Lestrade came up and asked.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with them. The girl is fine, but the boy is a little weak and needs to be observed." Watson gave his advice.

"I'm fine." Max emphasized.

"Yes, but for safety's sake, can we go to the hospital?" Lestrade asked in a good-tempered manner.

"Well, that's fine." The boy nodded, because he was respected, he thought he liked the police even more, because this handsome police detective was very nice, and even gave a child enough respect.

Donovan put a blanket on the children, and then he and Lestrade picked up the children one by one and walked outside, but Max suddenly yelled.

"Sir, isn't the long-faced detective going with you?"

Donovan couldn't help laughing, and Lestrade glanced at the detective who was still standing by the window, smiled wickedly, and lowered his head to the little guy in his arms, "No, but wait for you You can go find him yourself."

"Alright then." The boy nodded, with a decision in his mind.

After the police left, Watson walked towards his cohabitant, patted him on the shoulder and said, "Go back, Sherlock."

The man turned his head, the wind ruffled his black hair, making his light-colored eyes dark, Watson frowned, as if he had never seen him like this before, Sherlock was pretentious and liked to be praised, he Fascinated by the case, the definition of boredom is very broad, and he would even roll on the sofa, but he never showed such a dignified look, so he was a little worried, and he took a step forward and asked, "What happened?"

"No, go back, John." After Sherlock finished speaking, he pursed his lips and strode away. Watson hurriedly followed, but hesitated, and finally gave up. Coaxing is useless.

"Um, Sherlock, Harry has already gone to pick up Teddy, so let's go back directly, or do you want fried dumplings for dinner?" Watson asked, changing the subject.

"John, I'm fine." Sherlock whispered.

"Okay." Watson shrugged his shoulders and opened the car door. He smiled, "But I think it would be nice to buy a fried dumpling."

The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, and Sherlock got into the car directly. He didn't speak, but his face was no longer so solemn, because his military doctor had been nagging beside him, and those trivial words of little value made him feel alive. The feeling, ordinary, ordinary, is definitely not an adjective for Sherlock, but at this moment, to be honest, it feels good.

Back on Baker Street, Little Teddy had already been picked up. There was no one in the living room, only the little guy’s schoolbag, but Watson heard movement in the kitchen, and the two walked over to see that Harry and Little Teddy were preparing dinner .

"Daddy! Dad!" Little Teddy screamed and rushed towards Sherlock with white flour in his hand, and two white handprints immediately appeared on the black long trench coat.

"I'm sorry." Little Teddy wrinkled his nose, but it was obvious that this little villain did it on purpose.

Sherlock looked at his soiled coat, pursed his lips, stretched his hands out of his pockets, aimed at the target, and kneaded his son's face vigorously.

"Let's search!" He yelled inarticulately, and the flour in his hand rose up in the air.

"Don't let go." Sherlock said viciously, Watson shook his head, washed his hands and went to help Harry, because he didn't quite believe in the former's craftsmanship.

Harry tasted the jam, sucked his fingers and said dissatisfiedly, "John, I can do it."

"Come on, Harry, I don't want to help you clean up later." Watson waved his hand and pushed the blonde woman aside, picked up his apron and started preparing dinner.

"You're becoming more and more like a house husband." Harry grimaced and fled quickly, with the military doctor's roar behind him.

"Haliye Watson, stop for me!"

"Idiots don't run!"

John was the only one left in the kitchen. Sherlock and Little Teddy had already moved the battlefield. The two of them were already having a fight on the couch. Harry took the opportunity to snatch the remote control away. She wanted to watch a TV show. Usually at this time, Little Teddy wants to watch a cartoon.

"You should be messing with her instead of me." Sherlock decided to pull the calfskin candy off and divert his gaze.

"No, I'm going to make trouble with you." Little Teddy rubbed against Sherlock's arms. When his father came in just now, he felt that the other party was different. He couldn't say exactly what it was, but he could feel it.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, took out his BlackBerry and browsed through the information and said, "I'm fine."

Lying on his father's belly, Little Teddy stretched out his small hand to grab the other's hair, and said in a drawn-out tone: "I'm just not happy that you didn't come to pick me up, you said you did."

"Didn't Harry come to pick you up?" Sherlock replied without looking up.

"That's different, you promised me." Little Teddy pouted and said with dissatisfaction.

Sherlock dropped the phone and looked at the little guy with light eyes, "Okay, what do you want?"

"Hmm." Little Teddy thought for a while, then said with his eyes bent, "Play the violin for me."

"No." Sherlock refused directly.

"why?"

"You fell asleep last time, Teddy, you hurt him." Watson teased as he brought out the dinner.

Yuanyuan's eyes were wide open, and his mouth was slightly opened. Little Teddy looked at his father, and suddenly laughed, rolled on the opponent's stomach, raised his head and raised his little hand, saying: "I promise I won't do it this time." Will fall asleep, please, Daddy, I want to listen."

"Let's have a song, detective boy!" Harley also gave up her TV, joined in with great interest, and threw a chocolate to Sherlock.

"I'm not a street performer." Sherlock sat up abruptly and stared at the two guys.

"Please, Dad!" Little Teddy rolled around on Sherlock's long legs coquettishly, and was quickly picked up by the detective.

"Don't act like a spoiled child to me."

"Daddy!"

"Okay, Sherlock, you're fine anyway." Watson came over and hugged Teddy and said.

"I am very busy."

"You're free, so don't be childish." Watson rolled his eyes and pointed out.

Harry sat cross-legged on the sofa holding a bag of potato chips and gnawed on it. Seeing his younger brother staring at him, he grinned, raised his hand and said, "Leave me alone, you guys continue."

"Harry, stop eating snacks for me, and have dinner right away." Watson frowned and said, the blond woman who was scolded made a face, and put down the potato chips obediently, but she had already finished eating.

Unlike Baker Street, which is full of chickens and dogs, only the sound of footsteps can be heard in the quiet manor. The blond man rushed in with his gun in his arms, and pushed open the door. The black-haired boy was nestled under the fluffy duvet In the middle, his face was flushed.

"How is An Qi?" Moran frowned and asked the housekeeper beside him.

"The fever hasn't subsided yet. The doctor said that we have to observe it tonight. He has already gone to get the medicine." The butler in a black suit replied respectfully.

Moran nodded and let him go out, wrung out a veil from the cold water of the bedside table and covered the boy. His long eyelashes moved and he slowly opened his eyes.

"Am I dreaming?" He asked in a low voice, his voice hoarse and not as clear as before.

"No, baby, you're not dreaming, I'm back." Moran said softly, gently brushing away the tears from the corners of the boy's eyes.

"I miss you very much." The boy sniffed. At this moment, he was not the excellent Angelo, but a seven-year-old child.

"I miss you too, baby." Moran kissed the boy's forehead and said with a smile, his expression was very gentle.

"Mummy doesn't allow me to find you." Angelo said choked up, his beautiful amber eyes were foggy, he was not a crying child, but now, he couldn't control himself.