As Joan stared down at the pregnancy test she couldn't believe her eyes. She had taken three pregnancy tests before she was willing to believe the result. Two pink bars. Those two bars had the power to change everything. Those two little pink bars meant that Joan was pregnant. She knew the tests had to be right. She was having all the symptoms women usually had this early in their pregnancy and she hadn't had her period in over two months. She knew this was the only explanation. There was no denying it, Joan was definitely pregnant.
She sat alone in her bathroom trying to wrap her mind around the revelation. She couldn't believe it had happened. She didn't know how it had happened. She and Sherlock practiced safe sex, this should not have happened. She knew logically what had happened, the condom broke. She also knew just how statistically unlikely that was. Her being pregnant right now was a complete fluke. But that's not what mattered now, what mattered was that she was pregnant and she had to tell Sherlock.
Joan had no idea how Sherlock would react when she told him. Would he be able to welcome a new baby into this world, into his world? What if he didn't want to be in the baby's life? Joan didn't know what she would do if he pushed her away. She didn't think she'd be able to do this alone. She wasn't even sure she was cut out to be a mother. She didn't know the first thing about raising a child. What would she know about motherhood? She had no idea what she was going to do, but she knew the first thing she had to do was tell Sherlo k. Which wasn't as easy as it sounded. She couldn't think about that right now. These thoughts were quickly becoming too much for Joan to handle. She remained in her bathroom for the next hour, crying her eyes out. Completely overcome with fear and uncertainty of how Sherlock would react.
After a good solid hour of weeping, Joan had managed to calm herself down substantially. She was able to regain her composure finally. She got up off the bathroom floor and walked over to the sink. She grimaced when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Makeup streaked, bags under her eyes, puffy and flushed cheeks; she looked wretched. She cleaned herself up and headed out to the living room.
She was going to have to tell Sherlock at some point, and she knew it was better to do it sooner rather than later. It wouldn't be long before she started showing after all. Sherlock wasn't an idiot, it wouldn't take him long to figure out what was going on. She wasn't going to be able to hide this. He was going to find out and he had the right to.
Joan dialed Sherlock's number slowly, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm herself down. She didn't want to sound shaken on the phone. She had dialed his number several times now, chickening out at the last second every time. This time however, she stuck it out.
"Sherlock Holmes," came the familiar voice on the other end of the line.
"It's Joan," she said shakily. Dammit. She had to pull herself together. She cleared her throat and continued, "Can you come over? We need to talk."
"Is everything okay, Watson? You sound distraught," he said, worry evident in his tone.
"We can't talk about this over the phone, Sherlock. Can you just please come over? This is important," Joan was getting impatient.
She could hear him moving around his apartment as he spoke, "Sure thing. I'll be over in a few. Whatever it is, we'll get through it. We always do."
He hung up. Joan sat on the couch as she anxiously waited for Sherlock. She wished his words had brought some reassurance, but they hadn't eased her worry in the slightest.
Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door. Joan got up and slowly walked over to the door. She was growing increasingly nervous and shaky the closer she got to the door. She wasn't ready to lose Sherlock. She didn't think she'd be able to survive that.
She opened the door slowly. Sherlock quickly stepped inside. He took one look at her and could see just how upset she was. He pulled her into a tight embrace. After a few minutes he pulled back enough to look at her. She was crying.
He gently wiped a tear from her cheek as he softly asked, "What's wrong, Watson? I've never seen you so upset. Come on, let's sit on the couch. We can talk there."
He placed his hand on her lower back and guided her over to the couch. They sat at opposite ends of the couch, Sherlock could see she needed her distance. He sat there and waited patiently for her to tell him what was wrong.
She looked down at her hands, still crying softly. After a few agonizingly silent moments she looked up at him. The look of pain and worry in her eyes broke Sherlock's heart. He so desperately wanted to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright, but he knew he couldn't. She had something she needed to tell him and he knew she wouldn't let him near her until she got whatever it was off of her chest. He knew her well enough to know she struggled with intimacy. She didn't like feeling vulnerable. She didn't like seeming weak. Sherlock knew this, so he wouldn't push.
Joan took a deep breath before stammering the news, "Sherlock… I… I'm pregnant."
Her sobbing worsened and she couldn't bear to look at him. She was too afraid of what she might see.
Sherlock couldn't hold back anymore. He slid over to her side of the couch and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her protectively. He stroked her back soothingly and used his free hand to life her chin, gently forcing her to look him in the eyes. He closed the distance between them and kissed her passionately.
"So does this mean you're not mad?" Joan asked breathlessly.
"Mad? Joan of course I'm not mad. What could be better than starting a family with the woman you love?" Sherlock said with a smile.
Joan's heart warmed at his confession. She knew he loved her, but this was the first time he had actually said those three glorious words.
Joan smiled, "I love you Sherlock Holmes."
He leaned in to give her another kiss. They spent the rest of the day in their own little bubble. They forgot about the rest of the world for the day. Today was about them. Everything else could wait.
Joan didn't know what the future had in store, but what she did know was the one thing that truly mattered… Sherlock was going to be in it with her. That's all she needed.
With that in mind, she snuggled closer to Shelock and drifted off to sleep.
