Disclaimer: I do not own the original characters of this story, only the baby's name.
Please comment, this is my first fanfic, and though not amazing hope it's okay.
Set about 7-8 months after John and Mary's wedding
Sherlock rolled over in bed, thinking. Of course, he thought all the time, but this was different. He wasn't thinking about a case. He wasn't even thinking of how best to annoy Mycroft. He was thinking about John's baby. He was afraid that when the couple became a threesome, Sherlock would be shut out. John had assured him countless times that this would not happen, but he was still worried. Eventually, he sat up, and went into the lounge. He was surprised to see the clock read 2:00 am. He hadn't thought he'd been in bed that long. He lay across the couch, and reached for his cigarettes before remembering that he'd thrown them all away when Mary had a coughing fit upon coming into the flat one day, and he remembered that smoke was bad for pregnant women. He sighed, and stood up again, looking for something to do. His eyes lit upon his violin, and he had an idea.
Four hours, nine minutes and twenty-eight seconds later, Sherlock put down his pencil and his violin, looked at the sheet of music and front of him, and smiled. Perfect. He brushed a lock of hair from his eyes, smudging pencil above his eyebrow, and blinked rapidly a couple of times. He was tired. He'd gone two nights without sleep, thinking, and it was getting to him. He stood up to go to bed, and Mrs Hudson walked in, a tray of tea in her hands. "Oh, Sherlock!" She said. "You're up already. Good. I want to talk to you." Sherlock groaned. "Mrs Hudson –" he began, but she cut him off. "I know that you're feeling a little worried about the baby, Sherlock." "I'm not –" he spluttered, but she cut him off again. "You're not the only one who can do deductions. You were up all night, either muttering to yourself and rolling around in bed, or playing violin! I love your music, dear, but it does disrupt one's sleep when it's played at 3:00 in the morning. He sighed. "Mrs Hudson, you know me. I just don't sleep well. And I was not muttering!" She smiled obligingly. "Of course not, dear," she said. "Enjoy your tea."