Make It Work

For the sherlockkink meme prompt:

Mary and Irene become pregnant at the same time, and the timing couldn't be worse. Watson and Holmes have discovered their love for each other as well as Mary and Irene. All of them want crazy bohemian lifestyle. They all live together and decide to raise the kids. Take it and run!Author's note: I took a different route. Just a bit. You'll see what I mean once you read. "Edwin!" Irene called, exhausted. "Edwin, come here!" She held the clothes in one hand, and pushed hair out of her eyes with the other.

The toddler giggled from a few feet away, and stomped his little feet.

Irene rolled her eyes. "Mama's not playing." She held up the clothes. "Come get dressed."

The little boy shook his head, his thumb going into his mouth. Irene opened her mouth to say something else, but Watson came up the stairs and little Edwin fell into another fit of giggles. The doctor glanced at the little naked toddler, and then the exasperated Irene. He walked over to Edwin and knelt down. "Are you giving Mama a hard time?"

Edwin laughed in response, slapping his hands against the air, daring Irene to chase him again. She didn't, and looked up at Watson. "He's a beast."

Holmes came up the stairs next, scanning a book of some kind, jabbering about case work. He stopped and looked between the trio. He stared at Edwin, who laughed even harder. He closed the book and handed it to Watson. Irene smiled, amusement written all over her face. Holmes squatted down a good few feet away from Edwin and stared at him. Without any warning, he clapped and said loudly, "Get dressed, Sir. Right now. This instance."

Edwin giggled again and ran towards his mother on his stubby little bow legs. He ran into her arms and she kissed the mop of unruly, milk chocolate hair. She smiled at Sherlock, but her smile fell slightly when his hand found Watson's-their fingers knitting together. She looked away, pulling Edwin closer to her.

"Where are you off to?" Watson asked her. "Mary mentioned something..." he waved his hand in a lazy semi-circle fashion.

"Shoe shopping," Irene said. "Edwin's almost outgrown his shoes."

"Already?" Holmes' brows furrowed. "We just bought him shoes-" he glanced at Watson. "When was it...?"

"A month ago?" The doctor shrugged one shoulder. He looked at Irene. "Would you like some money?"

"No." Irene smiled at them briefly, and then shook her head. "No, thank you." She patted the seat of Edwin's pants, prodding him to get a move on. "Come on. Mommy's waiting."

"Are you taking Clara with you?" Watson asked, opening his arms as Edwin rushed over to him. He picked him up.

"Do you want her?" Irene stood back up.

Holmes and Watson looked at each other. "We can keep her," Holmes told Irene, looking at Watson. He took Edwin from Watson. "And you behave yourself."

Edwin nodded and puckered out his lips. Holmes kissed him. Edwin turned his little head and leaned towards Watson. The doctor kissed him too. Irene smiled and approached them. She held out her arms and Edwin went back to her. He waved to his fathers. "Go-bye," he said.

"Good bye," Holmes said. "Be good."

Mary came up the stairs next. "There you are," she said, looking at Watson. "Did Irene tell you? We're heading out soon." She bounced a little girl just a tad bigger than Edwin in her arms. "Edwin needs shoes."

"We told Irene we can keep Clara," Holmes told her. He smiled at the little girl who smiled back and held out her arms for him. Unlike Edwin who had dark eyes and brown hair, Clara had blue eyes and sandy blonde hair.

"Hello, Love," Watson said as Holmes took her in his arms. The doctor leaned over and kissed her. "How's our darling girl?"

"Am I going shoe shopping?" Clara asked in a tiny, high-pitched tone. They often joked about her sounding like a little mouse.

"You're going to stay with Daddy and Papa," Mary told her.

Clara leaned her head on Holmes' shoulder, smiling at Watson who brushed some hair away from her face. This seemed to make Edwin jealous and he began to whine and squirm. Mary took him from Irene. "You'll see Daddy and Papa when we come back, alright?"

"Tell your sister good bye," Mary told him. "Tell her good bye."

"Go-bye." Edwin waved to Clara.

"Good bye," Clara squeaked back, also waving. She blew him a kiss.

"Blow her a kiss," Mary instructed the little boy. "Look, she's blowing you kisses."

Edwin blew her a kiss, and then made a rasberry sound, spitting on the floor. He laughed when the two women rolled their eyes and made faces. Holmes and Watson laughed, and Clara laughed too. She pointed. "Edwin funny."

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"And you're sure?" Mary asked, sniffling once more. "You're sure...that..." she wiped at her eyes. "That you're...in love...with him?"

Watson nodded slowly, looking away. "I'm so sorry, Mary."

"Well, you should be." His wife looked up at him. Her hand rested on her midsection through her dress. "I visited my doctor this morning." She smiled as more tears streamed down her face. "I'm with child."

Across town, Irene sat naked on the bed, staring angrily out the window. She snorted. "I knew it."

"I'm sorry," Holmes said quietly, awkwardly scratching his head. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I don't fall in love," Irene told him, a disgusted expression crossing her face. "What we do-" she gestured between them- "Is..." she rolled her eyes. "You know, I'll just tell you." She stood up, gathering her clothes. "I'm pregnant."

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"I wonder why Clara is talking so much better than Eddie," Mary mused as she and Irene climbed into the carriage. "They're only two months apart."

"Well, Edwin was premature," Irene reminded her, smiling down at the little boy. "He wasn't supposed to be born until July-four months after Clara." She kissed the top of his head. "It's amazing he's alive at all."

"He has his mother's spirit," Mary joked. Her smile faded and she looked away. "You still love him."

Irene looked at her. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do." Mary sighed, her gaze still averted. "You're not being fair to yourself."

"I'm not doing this for myself," Irene told her. "I'm doing it for our children." She laughed. "There are children on the streets because nobody wanted them and ours are lucky enough to have everyone want them." She laughed a little, leaning back against the seat. "It's just hard...watching the father of your child kiss somebody who isn't you."

Mary smiled sadly, and patted her lap. "Come here, Eddie."

Edwin climbed into her lap. He toyed with necklace. Occassionally, he glanced up at Irene, smiling. "Mama."

"Mama's right here," Irene said quietly, touching his nose with her finger. She smiled at Mary. "So is Mommy."

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"Watson?" Holmes glanced at the doctor as they worked side by side, trying to piece together a shredded document. Clara sat on the tabletop between them, staring at the tattered bits. "You don't think..." he cleared his throat and shook his head. "Nevermind."

"What?" Watson hardly looked up, concentrating hard on the pieces.

"Clara speaks so eloquently and with such precision," the detective said. "And Edwin...he..." he stopped, a guilty expression crossing his face.

"Edwin was premature," Watson said, finally glancing at him. "It's amazing he even survived." He patted the other man's shoulder. "And he'll catch up-I know he will." He leaned forward and pecked him on the lips.

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"I can't leave Mary," Watson sighed, closing his eyes. "Not when she's like this."

"Irene too," Holmes said, running his index finger along Watson's cheek.

"Irene too?" Watson turned his head to face the other man. "Irene is pregnant?"

Holmes nodded. "We're all about to be parents." He chuckled to himself, though nothing was particularly funny about the situation.

Watson snorted too, shaking his head, and then they both started laughing. When they settled down, Holmes let out a final chuckle and rolled over to kiss the doctor.

"I just wish there was some way around all of it," Watson said, staring up at the ceiling. "I mean, I want children. I always have." He stared at Holmes, who was busy kissing his collarbone. "Do you?"

"Children?" Holmes stopped briefly. "Why not?" He went back to work.

Watson stopped him. "Maybe there's a way we can make this work," he said quietly.

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Dinner was always a busy time of the day. The adults took turns cooking, two in the kitchen and two entertaining the children. Tonight was Watson and Irene's turn to prepare supper, and Holmes and Mary's turn to take care of Edwin and Clara.

" 'And the prince climbed up the princess' long braided hair'," Mary read from a storybook. She turned it so the two-year olds could see the picture. "Do you see the prince?" She sighed. "Edwin, pay attention, Love."

"Where's Papa?" Edwin looked around. "Where's Mama?"

"Cooking," Clara replied-her 'ooh' sound more exaggerated than a normal child's. The parents found it endearing.

"That's right, Clara," her mother said. "Now, let's finish the story."

"Stoorie." Clara smiled. She climbed into Mary's lap. "Preencess-" she pointed. "Hair."

"That's right." Mary kissed her.

"No stowy." Edwin made a face and shook his head. "No stowy."

In the kitchen, Watson and Irene quickly worked together to prepare the evening meal. Watson could sense hostility from the woman. He'd felt it before, but only in come-and-go senses. He'd always wondered, but never asked.

"Find Edwin a decent pair of shoes?" He asked carefully.

"Yes." Irene smiled at him. "Though I'm sure he'll grow out of them by tomorrow." She looked away. "How was Clara?"

"Typical Clara." The doctor shrugged. "The sky's the limit to her chatter."

"At least she talks," Irene said. She caught her own bitterness. "Not that Edwin doesn't..." she sighed. "She's so much smarter than he is."

Watson set a bowl down . "That's not true-"

"I did cocaine while I was pregnant," Irene hissed, slamming a large stirring spoon down. Tears filled her eyes and she looked away. "For somebody who's so close to Sherlock, it's a wonder he didn't tell you."

Watson didn't say anything for a moment. He shook his head slightly. "Needle drugs?"

"Sherlock and I used to do them together," Irene said, wiping at her eyes. "Even while I was pregnant." She began to cry. "And my baby is paying for it."

Watson still had a look on his face like something wasn't quite right. "He knew you were pregnant?"

"No." She wiped at her eyes again. "I didn't either. I stopped when I found out." She tucked some hair behind her ear awkwardly. "I, um, I showed no signs. My doctor said it was rare, but sometimes women..." she began to cry again. "I saw two children today with their parents-twins- and they both acted like Clara. They were talking, and singing, and they didn't run bow-legged!" She spit the last words out.

"Edwin is fine," Watson informed her. "He's healthy, he's smart, he talks..." he sighed. "Why didn't you tell Holmes?"

"They're probably getting hungry," Irene said, sniffling for the last time. She turned her attention back to the stove.

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"Daddy!" Edwin whined, trudging down the hall with his quilt-well, Mary's quilt. He'd just attached himself to it since he could crawl. "Daddy!"

"What's wrong, Son?" Holmes emerged from his room, looking around. "Why aren't you in bed?" He picked him up, kissing him a few times.

Edwin pointed to his room. Holmes rolled his eyes. "You can't sleep with Papa and me every night."

Edwin nodded. Holmes shook his head. Edwin leaned against him. Holmes sighed and carried him into the room, closing the door with his foot. From the bed, Watson looked up from his patient notes and smiled. Holmes rolled his eyes and set the toddler on the bed.

"Hello there," the doctor told the little boy.

Edwin snuggled against him, his thumb in his mouth. Watson removed the thumb. "No, we don't do that anymore." He winced slightly at the large callous on the little digit.

"I used to do the same," Holmes muttered, climbing into bed. "My mother coated mine in ear wax to make me stop."

"You're not going to do that to Edwin," Watson said, frowning.

"Of course not." Holmes looked at him. "It's vile...and strange..."

Watson looked at the little boy, and thought of what Irene had said. He opened his mouth to say something, but said nothing.

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To Be Continued....