~ Breakthrough ~
Sherlock's voice came drifting imperatively up the stairs of the Watsons' neat and previously peaceful home. "John? John! Are you ready? We've got a lead!"
John groaned and opened one eye to look at the clock on the bedside table. "What the… it's not even six yet!"
Mary sighed. "Picked the lock again."
"Why? Why?"
As though in reply, Sherlock was heard to shout, "Did you get my text?"
John muttered, "Bloody hell, that's what I get for turning off my phone," but he was sitting up now, switching on the lamp, and yelled, "Just a damned minute! I'll be right there." He turned to Mary, "I just wanted one night - one more night, and a morning lie-in. One of our last chances..."
"It was a lovelynight," Mary said, struggling to sit up and get out of bed, "but now you should hurry and get dressed or he'll be up here rousting you out. I'll go down and distract him for a few minutes."
"John!" came the voice again.
Mary called, "Coming, Sherlock!" and grabbed the dressing gown from the foot of the bed.
But then John was there, his hands at her sides (for she could not by any means be said to have a waist, close to her time as she was), a smile on his lips and in his eyes. "It wasa lovely night, wasn't it?" he said, and kissed her with exquisite tenderness.
My God, she thought as she pulled him as close as she could, I am the luckiest woman alive.
But the interlude was far too brief. There was a distant crash, possibly from the kitchen, and she couldn't help laughing, ending the kiss. John gave a sound between a growl and a groan, and Mary said, "I'd better get down there before he does some real damage."
She put on her dressing gown as she left John to dress, tying the sash firmly over her now monstrous "baby bump" as she made her way out and down the stairs. She was due any time in the next two weeks, and she was more than ready.
Sherlock, who'd turned on lights in the foyer and kitchen, obviously thought so, too, grinning crookedly at the sight of her. "How's the sprog coming along?" he asked, with more wicked glee than she'd seen him display in weeks.
"Still quite happy where she is, for the moment," Mary replied, studying him through narrowed eyes. "What's got into you? Has Faux-riarty revealed himself, then?"
"Mycroft's people called an hour ago with a lead. We've got to get out to Barking."
"Barking! How very appropriate! But… that's not it." She eyed him narrowly, up and down. There was some strange electricity about him, and a sureness… and all at once she knewwhat had happened. Her brows rose and a smile curved her lips. "You've finally squared things with Molly!"
A tinge of color touched those high cheekbones, and the notorious Consulting Detective gave a rueful chuff of laughter. But he only said, "Come in the kitchen, I was trying to make some coffee for John."
In fumbling for the coffee, he'd knocked over a couple of pots she'd left to dry leaning against the loaded dish rack. "Sorry about the noise, but it wasn't my fault," he told her. "You shouldn't leave things so precariously arranged."
She retorted, "We didn't think we had to baby-proof just yet, you see." She handed him the coffee carafe. "Get the water, I'll grind some beans."
They were silent as they put the brew together, essential to John's humanity at such an early hour, but when the water was finally starting to trickle through the grounds, Mary turned back to Sherlock. "So tell me what happened."
Some of his manic joy dissipated as he remembered. "We… fought. It was awful. Iwas awful."
"Oh, Sherlock!"
But he went on quickly, "Then she was going to leave and I… stopped her. Begged her to forgive me."
"About bloody time!"
He scowled, but then said with a sulky sigh, "I suppose so. Anyway... " He winced. "I'm just glad it's over. At least… when I received the text this morning, she came in to see what was going on, and…"
"And?" she prompted after a moment.
"Well, it was alright. We'realright. Or so it seems."
He sat down at the kitchen table, looking a bit shell-shocked now.
Mary came over and gave him a hug, and to her surprise, after an instant's hesitation, he hugged her back, keeping her there. Then the baby chose that moment to stretch, the movement vigorous enough for Sherlock to notice.
"Lively, isn't she?" he remarked with a smile, letting Mary go.
"You have no idea," Mary said, grimly. She eased into the chair next to him. "What will you do now?"
"Find our impostor, if John will ever get down here. What's taking him so long?"
"Not that! I meant with Molly!" She gave him a teasing grin. "You kissed her, right?"
Sherlock stiffened. "That's not something to discuss-"
"You did," Mary said, confidently. "And about bloody time for that, too."
Sherlock ground his teeth a bit, but before he could devise an appropriately cutting set-down, John walked in saying, "Coffee! Thank God!"
Sherlock jumped up. "Take it in a travel mug. We have to get out to Barking."
John gave a roll of his eyes, but complied. "It's a good lead, then?"
"I believe so," said Sherlock, once again all contained excitement. "Did you bring your gun?"
"Yes, and keep your sticky fingers off it."
Sherlock laughed, rather humorlessly.
Mary, considering the two of them, shook her head. "Be careful."
John, coffee in one hand and a couple of biscuits in the other, kissed her. "We will," he said and headed for the door.
"Much as we can, at least," Sherlock amended. Then, seeing that John was already out of earshot, added, "I suppose you're going to call Molly?"
"Of course I'm going to call Molly." She smirked.
He looked resigned. "Tell her… just..."
"I'll give her your love," Mary said, firmly.
Sherlock nodded, wordless, and following his partner in mayhem, swept out the door.
Mary took a deep breath of satisfaction, and gave her tummy a pat. "Just wait till you meet them, sweetheart!" she said, and chuckled in happy anticipation.
~.~