All canon characters belong to Eve Titus and the Walt Disney Corporation. Original characters belong to me.
It was the coldest winter England had seen in years. Hardly any living soul was out and about, the very few were lone street urchins scampering around for whatever shelter they could possibly find. The same could be said for the residents of the mouse world. Since the snow was so deep for hardly any human to walk about in, no mouse dared walk into it. All shops were closed and not a single child was outside playing in what would seem like a winter wonderland.
A single horse carriage driven by a heavyset fellow rode down the abandon cobblestone road of Baker Street, cursing under his breath for he detested the cold. Approaching the steps of 221 B, he pulled the brake before blowing into his bare hands to keep them warm. Hopping off, he gripped tightly onto the carriage so he wouldn't slip before heading to the familiar green door.
"Jonathan, the carriage is here!" a call came from just below the human home. The mice that inhabited below the floorboards of the great Sherlock Holmes and his trusted friend Dr. Watson were equally well known to their own world.
"Punctual as always," Dr. Dawson commented as he slipped into his dark grey coat.
"You know Holmes, my dear Dawson," said Basil as he descended from the top floor. "When on a case, punctuality is essential. And speaking of which, the same needs to be said about us. I'm sure Vole is waiting for us at the station by now and you know how cranky the cold makes him."
"Indeed I do. So I suggest we leave before that carriage leaves without us. I'm almost certain no other transportation will be coming until this snow melts away."
"What about taking Toby?" Paula suggested, getting out of her seat. "I'm sure he would be able to get you two there."
"In this weather, darling?" her husband questioned with a soft chuckle. Approaching her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "Even I wouldn't force that poor thing into the dreaded cold."
"Okay," she laughed, "it didn't hurt to mention it."
Smiling down at her, Basil placed a gentle kiss on Paula's forehead before heading to where Dawson stood waiting. After wrapping a wool scarf around his neck, he then slipped into his Inverness. Looking back at his wife, she noticed a sudden look of worry. Walking back to her, he rested his hands on her belly.
"Are you sure you'll be all right?" he questioned is a soft tone. From the very beginning, Basil despised the idea of leave his wife alone since she was only a couple weeks away from giving birth to their first child, but he knew how persistent she was as she placed a gentle hand on his cheek.
"It'll only be a few days, Jonathan," Paula pointed out. "Don't make it sound as if you'll be gone for months on end."
"I know, but the baby...?"
"The baby isn't going anywhere." Patting her stomach, she added, "I can assure you, he's nice and warm where he is for now."
"Why do you keep insisting it's a boy?"
"Because more than likely our baby will be."
"Are you two still dabbling on with that," Mrs. Judson interjected as she stepped out of the kitchen, holding a small basket of laundry. "All you should be worrying about is that the child is born safe and healthy."
Smiling softly, Paula turned back to Basil who wore the same expression. "She does make a good point," he concurred.
"Right, but that is only because she didn't side with me," Paula said before adding, "Now please don't worry. The more you do, the less useful you'll be to Vole."
"Perhaps that's a good thing," Basil teased.
"If he didn't need your help," she began in a slight serious tone, "he wouldn't have asked for it."
"May I remind you that you talked-no, no, forced me into assisting him on this case?"
"And may I remind you that you have not taken a single case since we found out that I was pregnant." Basil knew that she had made a highly valid point, though he only said that he wouldn't take as many as he normally did so that he could spend more time at home with his wife, it seemed instead, he turned down anyone who was in need of his assistance which was not like him at all.
"Jonathan, I love you, but you need to take this case, if not for my sake then for your own."
Looking back towards the door, Basil turned back to his wife and smiled softly before kissing her lips. "All right, but I promise I'll return as soon as I can."
"I thought you might. And promise me that you'll come back in one piece."
"Always, my love," Basil answered, kissing her lips once more before taking his leave with Dawson. Paula walked to the window, watching as both mice climbed onto the carriage with ease before Holmes and Watson stepped on themselves.
As the departed, her heart sank while the horse and carriage vanished into the morning fog. Though she was relieved that her husband was finally doing what he did best, she felt this slight pang of regret. Looking down, she cradled her swollen belly with such tenderness before looking back out onto the now abandon street.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," Paula said, "Daddy will be home before we know it." Sighing deeply, she turned away from the window to see if she could be of any help to Mrs. Judson before adding, "I hope..."
A day had come and went, and still Basil had that worried feeling as he, Dawson, and the few mice from the Yard looked about the white fields. The dead leaves and bushes made it almost difficult for their search, but the detective was certain they were in the right place. Keeping close to the ground, Basil practically crawled through the cold blanket until he stumbled into a large pile of sticks and leaves that seemed to be too neat to have fallen on its own.
"Have you found something, Basil?" Dawson questioned, leaning over him as he began to move twigs out of the way. It was soon that both mice jumped back, surprised by their discovery. "By Jove..."
"Vole, I found her!" Without turning away from the body, he continued until the woman was completely revealed.
"Is this her?" Vole asked as he tried to get his breathing back to normal.
"Indeed it is, Emily Hamilton. According to her husband, she went missing two days ago."
"Did he mention anything else? Any struggles at all?"
"He did, but he didn't seem too emotional about it. Mr. Hamilton said that the intruder broke into their home somewhere between the hours of ten and two in the morning. The struggle began in the sitting room before he dragged her to the top floor where she tried to fight back once again before she was raped and killed."
"Do you find something odd about that, Basil?" the inspector inquired.
"Wouldn't you? If your wife had been brutally murdered, wouldn't you show how devastated you were?"
"Of course. But are you suggesting-"
"I believe he had something to do with Mrs. Hamilton's unwanted demise," he answered in a serious tone. "While you were questioning him, I took the liberty into looking about the crime scene. In his study, which was right in the next room and could be entered through their bedroom, I noticed one of the drawers of his desk were slightly ajar. Inside, was a blood stained shirt worn by him. So in fact, he might not have been the cause of her death, but he was the one who certainly brought her here and buried her."
"Good, God!" Dawson exclaimed in disapproval. "Who would do such a thing to their own wife?"
"Apparently Mr. Hamilton. Well, it seems we have one of our culprits. We must arrest him at once!" the inspector said. "Gentleman, we must make haste. Who knows what this fiend will do once we catch him." As all made way back towards the house, Basil pulled Dawson closer to him before he could follow.
"The doctor and I will remain behind, Inspector," he called out as his friend looked up at him with confusion.
"Well, if you insist," Vole answered before he followed his fellow mice. Once they were long gone, Basil sighed deeply before turning back towards the body. But Dawson knew better. He knew well enough why his friend was behaving the way he was.
"Basil...," Dawson called out softly.
"Obviously you are aware of my odd attitude this evening, doctor," Basil pointed out.
"It seems everyone has, old boy. I'm afraid to say, Vole seemed a bit cross with you earlier as you looked off into the unknown."
"Forgive me for that. Since we left Baker Street it seems that my mind has not entirely been focused on this case. I know Paula coaxed me into assisting Vole for our own sanity, but-"
"You're worried about her aren't you?" his friend questioned quickly almost as if he could read the detective's mind.
"What if something goes wrong and I'm not there? I knew this was a horrid idea from the start, but she insisted I go. Yes, I will be the first to admit that perhaps I have been a bit on the protective side in regards to my wife's well-being, but damn it as that child's father I have every right to be."
"I'm sure she knows that, but even you know there is a difference between being protective and overprotective. Much like you, she needs space to breath. With you constantly at her side, she probably feels more helpless."
Looking at him questionably, Basil blinked a few times before questioning, "I fear Paula's way of thinking has gotten to you, old man."
"I will have to say otherwise, but if she were to tell you the same I would clearly have to agree."
"I seem to have this gut feeling that something is not quite right. I may be a bit paranoid given that fact that Paula is due in only a matter of weeks, but…" He sighed. "Oh, I don't know. I'm so unfamiliar with any of this and I just cannot seem to think clearly."
"Basil what you are feeling is practically normal, that I can assure you. I too was at a loss when Abigail was pregnant with Adam. Every little thing she did, I ran to her side because I felt that I had to. You just need to give her some space."
Basil scoffed. "If this was her idea of having space then she's bloody lost it," he muttered. "I love her, but I swear I still don't understand her sometimes."
"They are a mystery to us as we are to them, old friend," Dawson joked.
"I do not think of myself as a mystery, Dawson. In fact, I would believe myself to be easy to understand," Basil replied rather confusingly.
"My dear fellow, I have known you for a little over four years and I still find you a mystery."
"And you find that hilarious, do you?" the detective inquired as slight agitation in his voice told his friend he was not humoured.
"Oh, Basil, do lighten up. I didn't say it to be taken seriously," he pointed out as he continued. "My point is Paula needs her distance. Though she loves you dearly, there is no doubt in that, she doesn't need you by her side twenty-four hours a day. She's already under enough stress and worry as it is. If you worry, than it'll rub off on her. You don't want that for her."
Basil looked away for a brief before taking a deep breath, the cold air creating a mist as he exhaled. "I suppose you are right, Dawson. I just want not only the baby, but Paula to come out of this well and safe. I don't want to lose her as quickly as I have gotten her."
"I do understand your concern, but believe me when I say that everything will be all right…"
The following night, harsh rains poured down of the grand city. The streets below were still active with carriages carrying passengers to and fro. Snow had finally begun to melt away from the early evening sun, so even the mice were able to go about their day normally. Same could even be said for Paula as she spent most of her day assisting Mrs. Judson in any way she could. Though the landlady found this strange of the younger mouse, she chose not to fight her. But as the clock upon the mantel chimed the eighth hour, Paula began to feel a bit tired. Bidding the old woman goodnight, she headed upstairs to bed.
Echo of the roaring thunder became noticeable as a new storm slowly made its way over the sleeping city. The tolls of Big Ben sang loud and clear indicating the tenth hour. The small flat was quiet for Mrs. Judson had retired to her own room a half hour prior. Since her younger tenet went to bed, the poor woman began to worry about her. All day, she had been acting strange, not only in attitude, but the noticed some obvious changes in her physically. The few times as she was helping around the flat, Paula had ceased abruptly. Each time, the younger mouse assured her she was fine, that it was nothing. Mrs. Judson only hoped she was right for after that she had no other episodes. Perhaps she was just working herself too hard, the landlady thought. Looking back on when she was pregnant with her son, she recalled being off her feet during those crucial final weeks. That was last thing Paula did. She was constantly walking about.
The rain tapped against the window, the cool breeze seeping through the slight crack. Though a fire was going, Paula felt it to be too hot when she went to bed. She knew opening the window wouldn't be a smart idea, but she didn't care. When she went to bed she didn't feel quite right, but ignoring it, she climbed into bed and fell asleep. It was suddenly something caused the young mouse to twitch, moaning as she balled herself almost in a fetal position. She continued to squirm slightly before she let out a relived sigh as she tried to make herself comfortable once more. Upon doing so seconds later, she was stopped in her tracks again as the feeling took control; this in reaction caused her to sit up with a startle. Breathing heavily, she looked around the room for a moment while she did her best to deal with the excruciating pain.
Paula sat in the bed for a while longer before the pain subsided. Carefully, she rose to her feet and walked towards the door. Making it out to the hallway, she didn't know where to go or what to do. She knew trying to go downstairs would be a horrible idea for she feared another painful episode occurring, causing her to fall and causing any harm to the baby. Instead, she went into the bathroom. Closing the door behind her she slide onto the cool floor, rubbing her stomach once she came to a stop.
"Ahh…!" she cried out again, leaning forward while she did her bed to fight through it. Moving back into her original position, she let out a helpless sob as tears fell down her face. "Please God, don't let this being happening," she prayed. "Not here, not now. Pleas-Ahh, shit!"
After a slight pop sensation, Paula gasped as she felt the floor around her become damp. Looking down between her legs, she was in horror as she saw the floor covered with what looked like water. But what terrified her more was the slight pinkish colour mixed in. What knowledge she had, she knew this wasn't normal. Something was wrong, if not with her than with her unborn child. She couldn't look away as the puddle grew bigger around her. Her breaths quickened. She was petrified. It was at this moment she wished Basil was by her side, guiding her through the pain as he told her everything would be all right.
She was soon ripped out of her thoughts when a knock on the door started her. "Paula…Are you in there, dear?" It was Mrs. Judson. Her last outburst must have woken her up. Paula couldn't seem to answer as she door opened slowly. Peeking around the door, the older mouse jumped back in shock of the state she saw before her.
"Oh goodness, what happened here? Are you all right?" she questioned, dropping to her knees as she went to tend to Paula.
"I…I think my water just broke," Paula stammered. "But I can't have this baby."
"Well, dear, that child is coming whether you're ready for it or not."
"But I can't!" she snapped back. "Jonathan promised he'd be with me. I can't have this baby without him."
"Come," she ignored knowing quite well the fear the young woman was going through, "let's get you back into bed. You are not having this baby here."
Once under the warm covers and a doctor called for, Mrs. Judson returned with a small bowl of warm water and a rag. Wringing it out of extra water, she gently brushed it across Paula's forehead while she coached her through the dreaded contractions.
"A telegram has been sent out to Mr. Basil. He might not be here before the child is born, but at least the news will get to him."
"He's going to make it," Paula said in between her breathing. "I'm not having this baby without him."
"I know, dear." It'll take a miracle for that mouse to make it in time…
It was after two in the morning when the train pulled out from the deserted station. The very few passengers scattered to get themselves out of the cold winter's rain. "At least the snow is melting away," Dawson commented once they got out from the rain.
"That may be, but it's still bloody cold out here."
"Don't worry, Basil. Waiting for you at home is probably a nice warm fire."
"Indeed. Come let us find a cab."
Luckily, one came at perfect timing. Sighing with relief, they began to make their way towards it before another mouse begun to call out to them. "Mr. Basil!" the white furred mouse shouted once more, "an urgent message for you sir."
"Now son, really?" said Basil with slight agitation as Dawson took the piece of paper for the young man's hand. "An urgent message at this hour, who on earth would want my assistance at a time like this?"
"It wasn't from a client, Mr. Basil, sir. It came from your landlady once he stopped a nearby bobby to call for a doctor."
"A doctor, for whom?"
"Basil…," Dawson began before handing the message to him. "I wouldn't take this lightly if I were you."
"What are you talking about…?" After a moment of silence while Basil read the note, his expression changed almost instantly. "Oh God," he whispered. "Come Dawson, we must hurry."
Without saying another word to the anonymous mouse, the two mice made a run for the carriage as it was just about to pull away. As Basil was able to jump on with ease, poor Dawson had to make a run for it as he finally grabbed the detective's extended arm and pulled onto the carriage at last. Upon reaching the familiar flat, both Basil and Dawson were extremely exhausted. Thankfully, the carriage they were on headed in their wanted direction, the downside was that the human passengers were getting off two streets before that. Not wanting to take a chance, they got off and walked the rest of the way.
"Mrs. Judson! Paula!" Basil called out once he and Dawson made it inside. Stripping out of their coats, Basil rushed into the sitting room and towards the staircase before seeing the door to the kitchen slightly ajar. As the detective slowly walked towards the kitchen, he did not notice Dawson head upstairs. Entering the room, Basil looked around inquisitively. Seeing the cupboards and one of the drawers open he wondered what had happened. His heart sank when he saw a wet towel covered with blood. It was then that he was soon startled with a loud cry from the top floor.
"Paula," he whispered before rushing out the kitchen and up the stairs.
"Mrs. Basil, you need to push," Basil heard someone say once he reached the top floor. Hearing her cry out once more, he burst through the door. At first, both Mrs. Judson and Dawson blocked his sight to his wife as they supported her through her ordeal. After a final cry, both elder mice were pulled back slightly as the younger mouse fell backward.
"Okay, we've got blood and lots of it. Doctor, I may need your assistance. Ma'am, hold the child so I can cut the umbilical cord. We need to hurry before we lose her."
"No!" Basil shouted, rushing towards her, Dawson pulled him back.
"Basil, there's nothing you can do for her; I need to do what I can to save her."
"Damn it let me go."
"Basil!" Dawson yelled. "Please, if you want me to save her, you need to back off and wait outside."
"Dr. Dawson, I need your help," the other doctor requested.
Without saying another word, Basil stood still as he watched his friend walk back over. Looking to where his wife laid, his heart nearly stopped at the sight of her. Her face was pale white and sweat stuck of her fur. He almost wanted to tell them that it was too late, but he only looked away and walked out. Closing the door from behind him, he collapsed to the floor, shocked and numb. Basil didn't even pay any attention to the sound of his newborn's cries from the room across from him as he soon allowed himself to finally break down.
Basil had no idea how long he had been sitting there, but everything around him was silence. Hearing the doorknob move from behind him, the detective hastily got to his feet before the door opened. At first he was expecting Dawson but instead it was the other mouse.
"Well, how is she?" Basil asked a little too assertively as he closed the bedroom door from behind him.
"Forgive me, sir, I'm Doctor Levelle, Ethan Sherrod's assistant. You were lucky to catch me when you did. Anyway, I was able to stop the bleeding."
"But is she all right?" he asked again.
"She seems to be holding stability," Levelle reported, "but even if we were able to deliver sooner, we still would not have been able to bypass this. It seemed that the placenta ruptured which caused her to haemorrhage once the infant was born. Be as it may, I was still able to deliver the placenta successfully without any evasive approach. What we do know is her fighting me could have caused some serious damage to not only herself but the infant as well. It seemed that the child was already in distress beforehand. However, if I may, were you aware of any strange symptoms during your wife's pregnancy?"
"No," the detective replied, his voice monotone. "She did have some occasional morning sickness, fatigue, but nothing that did not seem out of the ordinary."
"Anything else you can tell me? How was her health before the pregnancy?"
"She does suffer from a weak immune system, so she was ill quite often, but nothing too excessive. Just a simple cold or flu, but other than that she was in excellent health."
"Was she ever hospitalized for health reasons?"
"Once, she was diagnosed with pneumonia before we were engaged. She was there for roughly three months since her health had deteriorated drastically. As you can see though she made a complete recovery and I don't see what importance this would be-"
"Better than nothing, Mr. Basil," Levelle carefully interrupted. "Lastly, can you tell me about her medical history?"
"Well she's…I do know that her grandmother had three miscarriages and her mother actually lost weight while pregnant with her, but Paula's never discussed that much with me and I never forced it upon her to do so. But I can assure you if anything seemed out of the ordinary, she would have told me."
"So you know nothing of this incident occurring to any of the women in her family. I will ask, and I beg you not to be offended, but has your wife had any other pregnancies before this?"
Though it did anger Basil to hear such a question, he had to remind himself that Levelle only needed to know what had caused his wife to go through what she did, even if this meant asking such personal questions.
"Dr. Levelle, I can assure you that she has not had any other sexual partner besides me. I will even tell you that she and I were never intimate until our wedding night, so no she has not."
Not intimidated by the elder mouse's reaction to the question, Levelle remained calm. "I did not mean to step my boundaries, detective, but in a situation such as this, I must know as much as I can…even if that means inquiring your personal life."
"I understand," Basil responded with a heavy sigh. "But I do know that Paula was aware of such even the slightest doubt of such an occurrence, she would have made it known to me straight away. There is nothing she would hide from me."
"So I've been told, Mr. Basil. Sherrod has told me that your wife is the most inquisitive patient he's had. There wasn't one question she felt ashamed of asking."
"That sounds like Paula."
But anyway, I've done the best I can for now," he continued. "Only time will tell. Dr. Dawson has already agreed to check on her and I'll have Sherrod call in the next day or so to look over her and the child himself. The best advice I can give is to have her rest. When the child needs to be fed, bring the infant to your wife and assist her since she'll still be weak from her ordeal."
"I will. Thank you for everything," Basil said softly.
"You're quite welcome. As I said, just assist in her recovery and if she makes it through one day, she'll be considered lucky."
"Indeed so," Basil concurred. "Well allow me to show you out."
"No need, I'm sure you'll want to see your wife and child. Goodnight to you all and congratulations."
"Thank you."
As Levelle made his way downstairs, Basil stood in his place. He wanted to tend to his wife, but surely Dawson would not allow him into the room at the moment. It was then that he was reminded of the little one in the other room. Taking a deep breath, he walked over the door across from him. Reaching for the knob, he paused when he hear a soft sound of what he thought came from the baby's room. Worrying, he hastily walked in, but sighed with relief when he saw nothing of the unusual.
The nursery was of a light yellow with oak wooden dressers, changing table, crib, bassinet, and even a rocking chair all made by their close friend, Hiram Flaversham. The curtains were white and drawn back as the moonlight shined brightly into the dark room. Basil was about to turn away, when he heard a soft cooing sound from the bassinet. A quick glance at the door and he slowly made way towards the small bed.
Basil's heart warmed with such delight at the glorious sight before him. Lying on the small mattress was his healthy baby girl. Holding back his tears of joy and without even thinking, he leaned forward and as carefully as he could, lifted the small child from her bed. Holding her in his arms, she seemed so tiny and so fragile that any false move, he'd damage her. Taking a seat in the chair, Basil started to rock smoothly as he held the infant as close to him as he could. All his months of worrying had finally vanished. Basil chuckled lightly as his daughter let out a quiet yawn. For a moment, he was lost for words when her eyes opened. He ceased his movements as he waited to see what she would do, but all the little girl did was stare up at him.
"You know who I am, don't you?" Basil asked softly. Taking her tiny hand into his, he chuckled as she gripped her finger. "Of course you do. You know I'm your daddy." Rocking once more, he just watched as she kept hold of his finger. Not soon after, her eyes began to droop as she drifted back to sleep. Carefully getting out of the chair, Basil placed the sleeping infant back into her bassinet as he covered her little body in the blanket and walked out. It was right as he closed the nursery door that his bedroom door opened. Turning quickly, his smile faded as he saw his friend standing across from him.
"She's doing fine for now. She tore horribly, so I had to stitch her up. Her pulse is low due to the blood loss, but-"
"It should have killed her," Basil interrupted.
"My dear friend, never have I withheld the truth from you and won't begin to do so now, but…yes. With how much blood she lost, and her small body size, that should have been the end of her. But I suppose miracles do happen every day and this was her moment."
The detective sighed deeply. "This never would have happened had I been here."
"Now don't be so hard on yourself, you are blessed to have them both alive and well," Dawson pointed out before placing a hand on his shoulder. "She's awake, go to her." Nodding, he made past Dawson and into his bedroom.
The room was dim with only a fire in the hearth brightening what little it could. As Basil approached the bed, he couldn't help but let out a sob. Seeing Paula in the state she was in devastated him and though this may not have been able to be prevented, he still blamed himself. Taking a chair at the edge of the bed, he moved it closer to his wife so he could be by her side. Delicately, he took her hand into his; it felt so smooth to the touch. No longer could he fight back his tears as they fell down his cheeks. She looked helpless as she laid there in her white gown. Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed it tenderly.
"Paula…," he whispered loud enough for her to hear. "Please…look at me. I'm here."
Doing so, her eyes, which seemed almost vacant at first, focused on him. "Hi," she said quietly. Hearing at least this made him laugh with relief.
"Hi yourself." With his other hand, he stroked his fingers through her dark brown hair. "Are you all right?"
Paula nodded. "How long have I been asleep for?"
"Not long, about an hour at the most."
"What happened?"
"You mean, you don't remember anything?" This surprised him as she shook her head.
"I remember the pain and Mrs. Judson by my side…and also another mouse. I didn't recognize him."
"His name is Levelle, he is Sherrod's assistant. He delivered the baby."
"No, I-I wouldn't let him. I wanted to wait for you."
"He told me, to which I do not understand why you would have done such a thing," Basil said sternly. "I wanted to be by your side as much as you did, but do you know what damage you could have done to yourself and our child?"
"I-I know, but I was so scared."
"I know you were, but almost losing you was frightening enough, but it would have killed me had we lost the baby as well. I'm just glad that the two of you are all right."
"What happened to me?"
"Levelle said that you were haemorrhaging after the baby was born. It caused you to pass out, but thankfully…," he paused as he took in a deep breath, "but thankfully no worse harm came to you."
"And the baby…?"
Basil smiled. "She's doing just fine. She's sleeping at the moment."
"She…You mean…"
"Yes, darling, we have a little girl," Basil whispered. As Paula chuckled, he leaned forward, catching her lips with his. "We have a beautiful little girl."
"Where is she? Can I see her?"
"Now how can I say no?" Rising from his seat, in moment's time, he returned with the sleeping baby in his arms. His face lit up as he saw the look of joy on his wife's face.
"Here, let me help you," he said, keeping her steady as she slightly sat up. Once comfortable, Basil handed the baby over to his wife and instantly, tears of undying happiness fell down her cheeks.
"She so beautiful," Paula said as she held her close.
"Just like her mother." Glancing upward, Paula and Basil looked deep into each other's eyes. Once more, they met in a passionate kiss, but broke away when their cooing baby distracted them.
"I can't believe she's finally here."
"Neither can I," Basil concurred. "It seems she didn't want to wait for two more weeks."
"Seems like it." When saying that, a thought came to Paula and as her smile grew, she looked back to her husband.
"What?"
"I just thought of something."
"Really," he began, "and what would that something be, if I may ask?"
Never once breaking her smile she questioned, "What's today?"
"I beg your pardon? What does that have to do with-?"
"Just tell me what today is?" she chuckled.
Sighing, he answered, "Ah, I don't know, Tuesday?"
"I meant the date, Jonathan. What's today's date?"
"Darling, quit playing games," he laughed amusingly. "Today is…" Stopped in his tracks, he kept silent for what seemed like an eternity before looking down at his daughter.
"What is today?" Paula asked once more, knowing he had the answer.
"It's the sixth. Today's date is January the sixth." Surprised by the discovery, he was left speechless.
"Happy Birthday, Daddy. Your daughter is exactly forty years younger than you are." Hearing that warmed Basil's heart as he leaned forward to kiss Paula's forehead with such tenderness.
"Indeed she is. I must say this is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. I'm glad that it was you."
"So what are we going to name her?" Paula asked finally. "Or have you already done so."
"No, I wished to wait until you woke. Besides, you're her mother; I believe it's your right to name our child."
"But you are her father; you have the right to contribute. Besides, I want you to."
Looking at her questionably, he asked, "Are you sure?"
"Please?" Grinning happily, she waited as he looked down at the child in her arms. Never did he think he would ever be in a situation like this. Then again, he never thought he would ever step out of his old life as a bachelor either. After moments of thinking, it finally came to him.
"Sara," he said softly.
"What was that?"
"Isn't that her name? Sara…or was it Carmen. I keep forgetting."
"My grandmother's real name was Carmen, but for some reason everyone called her Sara."
"It's perfect! Sara Carmen Basil, has a nice ring to it I believe."
Paula chuckled in amusement. "I like it," she commented.
"Good," Basil said, catching her lips with his own. "Then it's settled." He declared before kissing his wife once more.
It was their love that brought them together and their passion that brought their child to life. Even in absents, though fear overcame them, they were able to guide one another through the darkness and into the light of the greatest chapter either of them would always be willing to take.
Review, please?