Yes! I'm finally back with the sequel. Unlike the first story, which had been in my head for years before I finally got around to writing it, this one is brand-new. And, I must admit, I was surprised at what I discovered happened to Sherlock and Sian after their marriage. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.
Disclaimer: No, I do own Sherlock Holmes, but I do own Sian, as well as several new characters, Jack, Violet, Ernest, Joseph, and undoubtedly a few others as well.
Chapter One
Sherlock Holmes woke up. The rays of the morning sunlight were streaming through the narrow slit of the drawn curtains. He stretched lazily, and was shocked to realize that he wasn't alone in his bed; he could feel the warmth of a figure lying next to him. And not only was he not alone, but he was unclothed as well. Sherlock shot upright, panicked, embarrassed, until he saw just who it was sharing his bed. Sian. He sighed; he remembered now. He had married Sian, yesterday. He smiled and settled back down into the bed. He rolled to his side, so that he could watch her sleeping.
Her blonde hair was spread across the pillow, spilling over the edge like a golden waterfall. He smiled. He tried to carefully take a lock in between his fingers, but he accidentally tugged too hard. Her chocolate eyes shot open and met with his own gray eyes, just inches across the pillow.
"Hello, there," she whispered.
"Good morning, Mrs. Holmes."
"Mrs. Holmes," Sian repeated. She smiled. "I like the sound of that."
"Me, too," Sherlock agreed. His arm bridged across the gap and drew her closer, joining his lips with hers.
Sherlock Holmes remembered that night fondly as he was walking home. The sun was shining bright, making it unseasonably warm for midwinter in London. It made a lovely January fifteenth. Holmes grinned. January fifteenth… his anniversary. It had been two years ago to the day that he and Sian were married. He glanced down at the bouquet of flowers he had in his hand. The dewdrops on the roses glistened in the sunlight.
Holmes opened the front door to 221B Baker Street, and saw a figure sitting on the floor, her back towards him. "Hello there, my love" he said with a grin. At the sound of his voice, she turned around, an incredible smile growing across her face.
"Hi!" she called. She climbed up and dashed into his waiting arms.
"How's my girl?" he asked as he kissed the top of her head. She nuzzled her face into his neck.
Sian walked in the room.
"Hey," she said. "I thought I heard you come home." She glanced at the girl in her husband's arms. "Violet's been waiting for you all day, you know."
"So I gathered from her greeting," he said, setting his baby daughter on the floor with a kiss. She crawled off in the direction of her rag doll. "Where's Jack?"
"Playing with his blocks in the kitchen," Sian said. "You know Jack. He loves the kitchen."
"Or, more precisely, he loves Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen, because the dear woman spoils him to death with sweets," Holmes noted dryly.
"Well, I can't disagree with that," Sian agreed. She noticed that her husband was holding his arm awkwardly behind his back. "Alright, Sherlock, what do you have?"
"Happy anniversary, Sian," he said, presenting her with the roses.
"Oh, Sherlock," she breathed, inhaling the sweet smell of the flowers. The crimson of the petals matched precisely the garnet ring on Sian's finger.
"Two dozen for two years of marriage," Holmes said.
"Oh, Sherlock," Sian said again. She threw her arms around her husband, kissing him. Sherlock eagerly kissed her back.
"Up," a small voice commanded, interrupting the moment. Sherlock and Sian glanced down to see Violet, with her rag doll tucked firmly under her arm, holding her arms up at them. "Up," she repeated.
"Very well, Violet," Holmes said, picking her up.
"Is Daddy not allowed to hold Mommy at all?" Sian asked her daughter. Violet grimly shook her head. "Such a Daddy's girl," Sian said with a sigh.
"Weren't you, though, Sian?" Holmes asked. Sian laughed.
"Yes, I suppose I was. What makes you say so?"
"The fact that we gave Violet your father's name as a middle name, as opposed to your mother's." Sian stole a guilty glance at little Violet Ernestine, who was never considered to be Violet Elisabeth, in her father's arms.
"You're too smart for me, Sherlock."
"I certainly do my best," he said jovially, kissing his wife on the cheek.
In her father's arms, it was easy to see which side of the family that Violet favored in appearance. She had her father's ebony hair and misty gray eyes. Sian smiled at the sweet tableau of father and daughter. Truly, Violet looked like a small copy of her grandmother, the first Violet Holmes.
Suddenly, in crawled Jack, munching on a cookie.
"There's Jack!" Holmes greeted his son. Sian scooped him up in her arms.
"Have we been neglecting you, Jack-Jack?" she asked him.
"Yes," Jack said simply, as if he had understood the question.
Jack, so named after his "uncle," John Watson, had the features both from the Holmeses and the Fairfaxes. He had the deep brown eyes of the Fairfaxes, and the brown hair of both Grandfather Ernest and Grandfather Siger.
"Can you believe that these two will be one in February?" Sian asked, kissing her son on top of the head.
"It's hard to believe," Holmes agreed.
"I can't imagine being any happier," Sian sighed.
But that wasn't true—because if Sian's suspicions proved correct, then she was expecting another child. Sian bit back a smile. She wanted to keep it a secret from her husband—at least until she was one hundred percent positive.