All canon characters belong to Eve Titus and the Walt Disney Corporation. Original characters belong to me.

April 1900

The loud tolls rang through London's night sky. No living soul, human or rodent was about as all were nuzzled in their nice warm beds. Dawn was slowly approaching as the sixth chime cried strongly. Early risers, store and cart owners, emerged from their homes, ready to start a brand new day. Midnight Bobbies rushed home to rest up for their next shift or to spend time with their wives and children. Paper boys across the city shouted, attracting every West end Londoner eager to know the latest news and gossip.

As hours went by and more residents emerged onto the streets, the busy atmosphere of the great Empire boomed to life. Carriages traveled around the crowded streets of central London. For some citizens, bed was where they still remained. This could even be said for the few residents of 221 ½ Baker Street. Basil, regardless of how much sleep he had the night before, if he slept at all, was usually always an early riser. Mrs. Judson, his landlady, was out shopping for groceries and wouldn't be back for another hour. He sat quietly in his red leather chair and a novel in hand. Usually a nice warm fire would have been burning, but as of late, London has been in the middle of a heat wave, so instead of wearing his smoking jacket, he was in plain black trousers and a white button up shirt with a few undone.

It was no sooner that he heard from upstairs a loud slam of a door and rushing footsteps. Knowing instantly, Basil placed his book down before heading upstairs himself when he heard his wife, Paula, from the bathroom. Making it just in time, the detective fell to his knees as he pulled her hair back as she gripped onto the sides of the toilet, vomiting what food she was able to digest from earlier that morning. Gently, he rubbed her back until he knew she had nothing left in her stomach. As he lifted her fragile body from the floor, he gawked at her with worry for her face was pale and covered with sweat from her ordeal.

Placing her back into bed, he dunked his hand into the bowl of warm water on the bedside table. Grabbing hold of the cloth that he had placed into the bowl, he wringed it out of as much excess water he could before carefully wiping away the sweat from his wife's face. The state of Paula had Basil frightened though this wasn't the first time she had gotten this sick. But the mystery was what was causing her to become as ill as she was. No flu has been going around or any other terrible illness breaking out. So what was it?

As weeks came and went, a month went by and then another. It was near mid-July when things made a turn for the worst once more. Basil and his friend, Dawson, had just arrived back after a very interesting case concerning a well renowned lawyer and his soon-to-be-ex-wife, when both were stopped in their tracks by a sickly sound. Excusing himself, Basil ran into the kitchen, seeing his wife hovered over the sink. Quickly, Paula turned on the faucet to drain away the evidence, but obviously the sound alone gave him a clue.

"Are you all right?" Basil questioned, gripping his wife's shoulders to keep her steady. "Paula?"

"I'm fine," she replied, her voice shaky and worn. Not being convinced, Basil tried to help bring Paula to their bedroom, but instead of following, she resisted. "Jonathan, I said I'm fine!"

"Let me know when I can believe you."

"If you can't then that's your problem, not mine."

Feeling frustrated, Basil did what he could to remain calm. He was already aware of the outcome for this wasn't the first battle he's had with Paula. "I do hope you know this is a losing battle for you."

"Then for once, let me win," Paula snapped harshly. "Why must you keep insisting and insisting?"

"There's something wrong with you, Paula and you know it. I have done everything I could to make you see that, but you refuse to believe so. You live in denial-"

"Funny. Should you really be saying anything when it comes to denial?"

"This isn't about me, Paula," Basil pointed out. "You're sick. You're constantly getting sick and yet, you won't let anyone help you."

"Because I have told you over a hundred times that my immune system has never been strong. Never! Always getting sick is nothing new for me."

"I don't recall you getting this sick before. Care to explain that?"

Silence flooded the small room as both mice stood before one another. Paula knew that her husband meant well and only wished to care for her, but even when she herself did not know what the matter was, she tried her best to remain strong.

"Please…," Basil begged, breaking the eerie quiet.

"No."

"Paula, I'm begging-"

"If I have told you once, I have told you too many times to count; I am not going to a doctor."

"Then I'm through with asking. I'm commanding you to."

"Unless I am on my death bed, I refuse. The only way you will make me go is if you knock me out yourself."

"If I have to, then I will."

With a shaky sigh, Paula finally turned off the running water before looking up at her husband with a harsh expression. "Then put me out of my misery, will you?"

"Don't you dare over exaggerate about this. I will not stand aside and watch you suffer. For two months I have been watching you throw up half of what you ate and that worries me. I know your dislike for doctors, but I want to be sure what is happening to you is nothing serious." Pausing for a brief moment, Basil groaned in frustration as he brushed his long fingers through his hair. "If you want, I will be more than happy to come with you."

Breathing deeply, Paula soon felt as if she had the strength to finally move without that nauseated feeling. Shaking her head, she responded. "No, I'll be fine going on my own. Besides, you have a case to handle. I promise you if they know something, you'll be the first to be told."

"Are you certain, there really isn't much of this case to solve? We know who our culprit is and will deal with her first thing in the morning. So I do have time to spear."

"I can assure you that I'll be fine. I feel well enough that I don't need anyone to accompany me." Nodding in reply, Basil took Paula into his arms, holder her close. Not soon after, she responded to his affection. "I love you."

"If anything were to happen to you, it would certainly destroy me. I've almost lost you once; I don't want to lose you again."

Chuckling light, Paula looked into her husband's jade eyes. "Nothing is going to happen to me, Jonathan. It'll take more than a case of pneumonia to be rid of me. You know that."

Feeling some reinsurance, he smiled softly before placing a kiss on her forehead. "Indeed I do. But that still won't stop me from worrying."

"I'm sure I know a way to do that," his wife commented as this caused him to grin with amusement.

"Well, perhaps I'll take you up on that offer later. I best be off anyway. Dawson and I were just stopping here to rest for a moment before heading out to the Yard to meet Vole. But if I am to leave you on your own, will you promise me you will go."

"I promise," she said. "In fact, I will go now. Since Dawson is currently busy at the moment, I may take into his recommendation as call upon Dr. Sherrod. He said that they both studied at St. Bartholomew and is a highly respectable mouse at that."

"Terrific, his office is on our way to Scotland Yard. I can take you there and we'll just walk the rest of the way.

At a quarter passed two, Paula stumbled through the door, her face a pale white. What she had been told left her shocked and speechless. She had done her best to remain calm as she sat in Sherrod's office, listening to his diagnosis. At this point, she wished that she was dealing with something far worse than this, something definitely life changing; not to say what she had been told wasn't life changing enough. Hanging her cape on the coat rack, she gripped tightly onto the railing to keep herself from toppling over as she descended the few steps into the sitting room.

Looking around, her husband was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was somewhere else in the flat. Just as she was about to make her way upstairs, Mrs. Judson stepped out of the kitchen, her smile vanishing at the sight of the young mouse.

"Good gracious! Are you all right, my dear?" the landlady questioned with deep concern.

Shaking her head, she asked, "Has Jonathan come home yet?"

"No, I'm afraid not. He and Dr. Dawson are still out and about somewhere, but I'm sure they won't be too long."

"I hope not," she answered quietly before looking back towards the door.

"Is there anything you'd like, tea perhaps to settle your nerves."

"I don't…I just want to be alone for a while," Paula answered, her fight to hold back her tears becoming increasingly difficult to manage. "Can you tell him I need to speak with him the moment he arrives?"

"Of course, child," Mrs. Judson agreed as she watched the younger mouse make her way upstairs. Much as she worried about Basil during his darkest hours, the same could be said about now. Never had she seen Paula as upset as she was now. She only hoped that it wasn't too serious.

Closing the door behind her, Paula hastily changed out of her pale blue dress for at the moment it seemed to suffocate her and into one of her husband's shirts. Being sure she was properly covered, she walked over to the bed. Pulling the covers down, she climbed in, covering her entire body until only her head was visible. Breathing heavily, in the darkness of her bedroom, she finally allowed herself to cry as her tears soaked into the pillow. What was she to do? What was she going to say to Basil once he came home? At this point, she seemed lost and alone, and all she wanted to do was end it.

It was later on that evening when Basil and Dawson returned back to Baker Street after their long discussion with the inspector. As tired as the detective was, he soon realized that Paula was nowhere in sight. Usually, this was of the norm for she usually was either in their bedroom or in the spare room reading, but knowing that she had spoken to Sherrod he expected her to be in the sitting room waiting for his return.

"Mrs. Judson!" Basil called out as he hung his Inverness coat on one of the hooks. "Mrs. Judson!" In a haste pace, the elder mouse rushed out of the kitchen, wearing a worried expression on her face. "Have you seen Paula at all?"

"I have, sir," she answered, "she's upstairs. The poor dear was as pale as a ghost when she arrived home."

"Good, heavens," Dawson exasperated, "do you suppose-?"

"There's only one way to find out, Dawson," Basil interrupted. "Will you two excuse me?"

Without any other word, Basil rushed upstairs and in entering his bedroom, he saw his wife in bed sleeping, though not peacefully. Walking over to the bed, he saw in terrible view the tear stains upon her face. Kneeling down to the floor, he stared in gloom of the very sight. Guilt became of him for her knew he should have done something sooner. Gently, Basil brushed the few strains of hair from her face. Never has he seen such an agonizing expression. He fought whether or not to wake her, but the very thought that something could indeed be wrong tortured him. Placing a kiss on her head, this caused Paula to stir, thus giving him the advantage.

"Paula," he whispered as she let out a soft moan. "Darling, wake up."

Letting out a sigh, Paula moved about under the covers until she opened her eyes. Blinking a few times, she jumped in surprise of seeing her husband by her bedside. "How long have you been there?" Paula asked, her voice groggy.

"Not long, a couple minutes. I just came home and was told you were up here."

After a brief silence, she inquired, "What did she tell you?"

"She said that you seemed upset," Basil answered, his tone still soft. "Please. Tell me what he said."

Feeling as if her heart has ceased, Paula began to panic as her breathing became heavy. She knew he was going to ask, but she still had no way of telling him without crying once more. With a bit of encouragement from her husband, Paula sat up in the bed, her knees drawn up while she wrapped her arms around them. He knew this pose of hers quite well for she only did such a thing when something was seriously troubling her. Sitting on the bed with her, Basil took his wife's hands into his own as he looked into her eyes.

"Paula, what did Sherrod tell you?" Basil asked again. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me," she answered softly.

"Then…I don't understand. If nothing is wrong, why are you so upset? You should be thrilled-"

"Just because he didn't diagnose something harmful, doesn't mean he didn't detect something at all."

"So, he did come up with something, then."

"Y-yes…"

"Paula, stop postponing and tell me what he said. If there isn't wrong with you, but he found something then what is it?"

Taking ragged breaths, Paula did all she could to fight back the sting of fresh tears. "I...I-I don't know how this could have happened."

"What?"

"How could I have been so oblivious to the signs?"

"The signs? Paula what are you talking about-?"

"Jonathan, I'm pregnant!" she finally blurted out as her tears fell. Basil sat there in shock, not knowing what to do or what to say. He knew this day was to come eventually and though it was sooner than he or his wife anticipated, he was confused by her reaction. "That's why I haven't menstruated yet."

"But didn't you tell me your cycle was already irregular to begin with?"

"Yes, this is why I didn't give it any thought. He said that regardless I should have. But then I started getting sick and even I brushed it off. I just thought that whatever I was eating didn't agree with me. Also, I started wearing your clothes more often when at home."

"You do that anyway, I know how uncomfortable those dresses are for you."

"As of late, when I do wear them, I feel more constricted than usual, this is why I don't go out as often as I used to. There are so many other signs I must have missed, but with what I told Sherrod, his diagnosis was conclusive."

Allowing the news to sink in more, Basil breathed in deeply before asking, "How far along are you? Could he figure that out?"

"He said about a month, two and the most. I told him, I didn't start getting sick until a few weeks after our wedding, so he thinks that we conceived during our honeymoon. Perhaps...the very night you took away my virginity."

"By the sound of it, I sense you aren't too thrilled."

"How else am I supposed to react to this, Jonathan?" Paula questioned, her tone of distress. "Please, tell me because I don't know how to feel anymore."

"I don't know. I'm just as lost in the dark as you are, but what baffles me is that I thought this was what you wanted, unless you have suddenly changed your mind."

"I didn't..." She sighed. "Yes, I do want children more than anything, but...I thought I would be able to wait for a couple years at least. That way, I'd be more adjusted to this new part of my life. I suppose that was too much to ask for."

"Now, I wasn't ready for this so soon either. But I'm willing to accept such changes as they come-"

"Well, I'm not! Call me selfish, childish even, but I thought I could still have some control over my life."

"Paula, if he said that I got you pregnant on the first try, then it seems that control isn't the problem. It was our timing. We didn't keep in mind the consequences of our actions when we did partake in such activities the first time."

Basil did make a point, but still she didn't want to agree. She sat there quietly, until finally she began to cry once more. Taking her into his arms, the detective did his best to calm her. He knew she was afraid, as was he. But unlike her, he knew what he wanted. He only hoped that he could convince her.

"So…the baby…," he began. Pulling away from her husband's embrace, she rested against the headboard

"What about it?" she questioned. "Jonathan, I know what you want."

"But what about you, Paula? I might have given this child life, but you are to give him or her birth. If you don't want to keep the baby, then there are options."

"Abortion isn't going to happen, so don't even dare consider it. Plus, isn't it illegal here?"

"Yes it is."

"So why give me an opinion that I would more than likely be arrested for? Doesn't make sense, now does it?"

"No, you're right; I was foolish to make such a suggestion. How about adoption."

"No, because I have no real excuse for giving this baby up," Paula explained. "We are in a stable household and are financially able to take care of our baby. It doesn't matter if I am not ready to have this baby. It's coming whether I want it to or not." After a short pause, she continued. "I always thought that it would be years before I married and had children. I suppose I keep forgetting where I am. I understand that during this time such things are likely to be expected, but there's still that part of me that wishes to still have some part of her old self."

"I understand, darling. I at times forget that you are still growing used to this new life," he said with such sympathy. Scooting onto the bed more, he sat beside his wife and instantly, she moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "You're right though, as much as I am surprised with the quick changes, I do wish for you to keep this baby. However, I don't want you to do so on my account. I want you to because you want it. This is your child."

"No," Paula answered, shaking her head. "This baby isn't just mine. It's yours as well. Forgive me for how I reacted. I just didn't know how to respond to such news. I don't regret what we did, really I don't."

"I never doubted you for a second, but you know realize we could have waited until we were in fact ready to start a family, right?"

"I know," she replied. I suppose I was ready for the intimacy part of our relationship, just not what followed after."

Nodding in response, he smiled softly. "I suppose we both were in the same train of thought. "Listen, I'm just as terrified as you are, but remember you are not alone on this. I am your husband and this little one's father and for that, I will forever be by your side. I made that vow when I married you and don't think for one second that I will go back on my word." Placing his hand on her abdomen, he continued. "This baby is not just your responsibility, it's mine as well. Just like you, I will do my fair share to take care of it, even if that means taking on less cases."

Smiling brightly, Paula turned to look into her husband's jade eyes to see such promise. Leaning into him, she caught his lip with hers in a passionate kiss. She could feel her heart warm with happiness. "You really mean it?"

"Of course I do!" he stated. "What gives you any reason that I wouldn't?"

"Well I do have Mrs. Judson-"

"That is true, but this is our child and I refuse to add more responsibility on our kind landlady than she has already."

Paula chuckled. "That is true, you haven't been known as her worst tenant for nothing."

"My dear, I do believe I should take offense in that," Basil said, laughing himself to her response. "Though I do believe you are correct. And one of the first changes I am willing to make is not be so destructive. Can't have that with a child around, can we?"

"No, I'm afraid not," she answered.

"Don't worry love. I promise you that in the end, everything will turn out just fine. We might not be ready now, but we still have plenty of time to prepare for what is to come. I can assure you that when the day comes, all those fears we have now will be nothing but a memory."

As tears streamed down her face once more, Paula wrapped her arms around Basil's waist. Hearing his words, she knew there was truth to them. Never would he say anything he didn't mean or make a promise he couldn't keep. It was not only the fear of the responsibilities that lied ahead, it was also the fear of giving birth as well. But with Basil by her side, guiding through the pain she would go through, she knew in the end it would be well worth it. All they had to do was take one day at a time.