==Chapter 1==
If We Make It Through December
Maybe that's what we look for in the people we love, the spark of unhappiness we think we know how to extinguish…
– Tom Perotta, Election
Mama want Mama want Mama want Mama!
Sally swallowed the lump in her throat, resolutely shutting her mind and the bedroom door on Kathy's cries of protest. Her tread on the stairs was heavier than she'd intended, but it didn't matter – her daughter wouldn't sleep a wink anyway until she'd finished voicing her outrage. Closing the sitting room door didn't provide much relief, either, those piercing wails clearly audible through the ceiling. Okay, okay, deep breaths, just relax... Kathy's warm, she's comfortable, and she's got to run out of lung power eventually, right? She's just kicking up a fuss because she can – well, that, and she knows it upsets you...
Beth rose from where she was sitting, reading an ebook on her phone, and winced at both Kathy's cries and the sound and sight of Sally's bad mood. Sally didn't really get upset or moody often, and when she did, Beth always felt like plastering herself to the nearest available surface to avoid contact. Knock it off, she's your best friend and she's upset; quit being chicken. Offer help. "Um... I could try to calm her down?" Beth said in a small voice. After all, it wasn't as if she didn't have the experience.
Sally hesitated, sorely tempted, then shook her head, flopping down into her husband's vacant armchair. "We can't stay with her every time, she's got to learn to settle on her own." John doted on their daughter to the point of indulgence in some ways, but he'd been absolutely adamant on that score. She held her breath as the wailing died away for a few seconds, then groaned as Kathy found her second wind. "Why couldn't we keep the TARDIS?"
Beth cringed, wanting badly to go up and comfort the baby—she'd always hated hearing very young children cry like that. It hurt, as if the baby were being abandoned, and, hey, they didn't exactly know better. Although Kathy just might. "I think the Doctor might have had something to say about that..."
Sally threw Beth a Look: she really didn't need people being reasonable right now – not without chocolate, anyway! And that was a distant dream until Kathy went onto solid food...
Beth sank down into Sherlock's seat, doing an impression of a robot folding up for storage. "That's why you've got me?"
"You wanna adopt?" Sally smiled faintly, shaking her head. "Sorry, it's just..." Gesturing helplessly, "There's no parenting books for humans about this sort of thing! And believe me, I've checked!" Her phone was amazing, but it wouldn't let her search through any alien book collections.
"Awww, I know. Seriously, though... I could... keep an eye on Kathy if you ever wanna take off for a little while. I mean—" Beth gave a grimacing smile—"I think I know, but how long's it been since you and John went on a proper date?"
Sally's eyes widened – good question. "Umm..." Her hand went to her mouth, looking at Beth sheepishly. "Wyndham's Theatre?"
Beth winced—just as she'd feared. "Okay, so we definitely need to set up a night out for the two of you."
This time, Sally gave Beth a look of pure gratitude. "That would be wonderful!"
Sally hadn't expected anything to be organised before tomorrow night at the earliest, but it was only a few hours later that she was at the front door beside John, buttoning her coat over her evening gown and giving last minute instructions: "...and Mrs. Hudson's got more milk for Kathy if she needs it, but she should be all right till we get back – oh, and her new favourite bedtime story is 'The Pied Piper', she doesn't like 'Snow White' any more..."
Beth was making a valiant effort to keep a straight face. Poor Sally, but Beth had to either be amused or be driven crazy by her friend's relentless new mother syndrome. She had opted for amused... and Sherlock had opted for crazy.
Watson put a hand on Sally's arm, willing her to calm. "Darling, I'm sure Beth knows what to do." He cast a pleading look at the younger girl for help.
Beth bit back a grin at John's wide eyes. "Yup, we're good, don't worry," she said, and made shooing motions. "Go, go! Have fun!"
"Bye-bye, honey." Sally gave Kathy one last kiss, and finally let John pull her out the door.
The baby looked up at Beth, who grinned at last. "We'll have fun, won't we, sweetie?" Kathy gave her a little smile—Beth was really glad that Kathy was more trusting of her than Beth's own siblings at this age. Any one of her brothers or her sister would have been crying right now.
Holmes, meanwhile, had taken care to absent himself from the last-minute litany, and now peered down from the upstairs landing. "Is it safe?"
Beth shook her head and began to climb the stairs. "They're gone." She giggled. "John practically dragged Sally out."
Her husband sighed, but couldn't help smiling. "That could be you in a few years, you realise."
She paused, thinking of previous experiences within her family—and, for that matter, with the younger Irregulars. "...yeah, not gonna deny that one." She reached Sherlock and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Holmes's smile broadened at the kiss, returning it. "And I can only promise to try not to outdo you." He adored his goddaughter already; what might he be like with his own offspring? The detective paused in the doorway as Beth moved into the sitting room, struck yet again by the sight of his wife with a baby in her arms. What, indeed...
Beth groaned at the mental image of Sherlock being a neurotically worried father. "Oh gosh, you'd better not!" She didn't think she'd be able to live with that! She sat on the settee and cooed to the baby, "Yes, he'd better not, isn't that right, Princess?" She kissed Kathy's soft forehead, then looked back up. "You know this girl's favorite story now is 'The Pied Piper'? Silly girl—" Beth gently booped her nose against the baby's—"that story doesn't even have a happy ending!"
Holmes had to smother a grin as Kathy frowned and stuck out her lower lip, giving the distinct impression that if she could fold her arms, she'd be doing it. "Well, not for the town..." His gaze went out the window to where the TARDIS had first appeared on Baker Street. "You lose the wonder... unless you're sharing it with someone." Sitting beside Beth, he addressed Kathy softly, "Is that what you like about the story, Miss Watson? The Piper won't be alone any more?"
Kathy cooed softly, and Beth felt her heart melt. "You are an amazing little lady, Princess, you know that?" The baby smiled back at her, cooing again, and Beth couldn't imagine loving her own future children more than she loved her little goddaughter.
Sally stared unseeing out of the carriage window, nervously twisting one of her coat buttons until the threads creaked under the strain. Why had she agreed to this, she could have coped with a few more evenings in! If only John had let her bring her phone, it would have been fine on vibrate...
Watson decided to break the silence before his poor darling worked herself up into a frenzy of worry. "Sally," he said gently, taking her hand in his. "Kathy will be fine. Beth knows how to take care of her, and so does Mrs. Hudson."
"I know," Sally sighed, wishing she could at least sound convincing. "It's just... this really is the first time I've ever been out of shouting range." She hadn't appreciated just how much peace of mind Nikola's telepathy had given her, until she was forced to manage without it.
Watson squeezed her hand. "I know, love." He understood completely. "But that's also why you need an outing like this. I'll not have you wearing yourself down into illness." Sally worried about Kathy in this less-medically-advanced age, but Watson worried about Sally. It was nothing less than a miracle that she and Kathy had come out of the stress of Frozen Time in good health, and Sally could still stress herself out of it.
She nodded meekly, finally beginning to smile. "Yes, Doctor." He's right, you're being stupid, the others have got this – the real fun won't start till Kathy starts crawling...
He kissed her cheek and grinned. "And to be honest, I've been looking forward to having you all to myself this evening. It has been a bit of a rare thing with us."
Her smile widened at his kiss, humming in agreement. "So, where are you taking me tonight? Or is that a surprise?"
"Well..." His eyes danced, eager for her reaction. "Does the name 'Savoy Hotel' mean anything to you?"
Sally's face lit up. "John! Really?" The hotel's restaurant was famous even in her time, she'd always wanted to go!
He chuckled, pleased to see her so delighted. "Well, we don't have to if you don't want to..."
She laughed and swatted him on the shoulder. "Are you kidding me?! And it's so close to Christmas, how did you even...?"
He grinned. "For that, you'll have to thank Holmes; he called in a favour or two. Being friends with the Great Detective actually does have some perks." And thank goodness for it!
"What, you mean besides getting shot at and woken by violins at 2 am?" Sally chuckled, snuggling closer into her husband's side. "That was very sweet of him." Thank you, Sherlock.
Watson chuckled and wrapped his arm around her. "He has his moments. More often since Beth." Holmes had always had a strong streak of kindness which could surprise people who knew only his reputation as a thinking machine, but Beth had softened her husband considerably, and it was a joy to see.
"I've noticed." She probably had been a bit full-on with the whole parenting thing lately, so Sherlock going to all that trouble for her – well, her and John... that meant a lot. Or maybe he just needed a break, too... "We did finally have that talk, the other day."
"Oh? How did it go?"
"Mm, bit awkward, but... yeah, better than I thought," Sally smiled. "It felt good to finally clear the air."
Watson held her a little closer and hummed gratefully. "I'm glad." So glad that Holmes and Sally had finally aired out their issues... such a relief...
Sally could hear the note of wistfulness in her husband's voice. Maybe it was time to talk with John a bit more about Beth... not tonight, though, she wasn't about to spoil their evening. She squeezed him back, tipping her head up to kiss him.
He smiled and returned the kiss, greatly enjoying not having to worry about anyone interrupting them. They wouldn't reach their destination for a good few minutes yet, and it was an intoxicating feeling, this time alone with his lovely wife. "Have I told you lately, Mrs. Watson," he murmured, "that you are truly a remarkable woman?"
She blushed at the light of desire in his eyes, resisting the sudden, wicked impulse to tell their cabbie to take the scenic route. "Constantly," she murmured back. "Tell me again..."
By the time they'd finished dinner, with no frantic messages received from home, Sally felt much more relaxed, and going to the Savoy Theatre afterwards to see the D'Oyly Carte Company perform 'The Pirates of Penzance' was yet another dream come true. She was still treading on air and humming the overture under her breath as they re-entered 221B. "We're home!" she called softly.
Beth appeared on the landing, her finger on her lips, eyes dancing. Sally is gonna love this. She beckoned them upstairs.
Sally peeked into the sitting room, and barely smothered a giggle. Sherlock was half-lying on the sofa, Kathy on his chest, both fast asleep. Awww. "Had fun, did they?"
Watson looked over Sally's shoulders, and his eyes went wide at the sight before him. Well, I never...
Beth grinned. "Oh my gosh, did they ever, and I've got the pictures on my phone to prove it."
Pictures, excellent. "Did you get one of them like this?" asked Watson.
"Oh yeah."
Sally grinned, then sighed. It was a shame to disturb such a peaceful scene, but the pair couldn't be left like that all night – Beth would be wanting her husband back, for one thing. She tiptoed in and carefully scooped Kathy up, who stirred but mercifully didn't wake.
While Sally retrieved the baby, Watson turned to Beth. "Thanks again for looking after her."
Beth smiled. "My pleasure—our pleasure." It had been fun.
Sally nodded emphatically as she carried Kathy out – an evening off had been just what she needed. She spared an arm to hug Beth, whispering, "Thank you!" She meant to thank Sherlock properly too, but that could wait till morning.
Beth beamed and hugged Sally back, noting that the older girl seemed much more relaxed now than she'd been when she left. "You're welcome. 'Night!"
Watson smiled at his sleeping daughter, so small and precious and perfect, but spared one last glance and a "Goodnight!" for Beth.
Sally caught her husband's hand and tugged him with her upstairs. "Oh, the night's not over yet, Doctor..."
Watson's eyes took on a gleam he wouldn't have let his daughter see had she been awake. "I was hoping you'd say that..."
Beth returned to the sofa and bent down, touching Sherlock's shoulder. "Honey?" she said softly.
"Mm?" Holmes stirred, then his eyes fluttered open in bleary alarm as he realised that the weight on his chest was gone. Kathy...
"Shh, shh." Beth put her hands on his shoulders to steady him. "The Watsons came back, Sally just took Kathy."
Holmes sagged in relief, then his eyes widened. "While I was...?" The detective groaned, reddening; he'd probably had his mouth hanging open, too.
"Aww, it's okay." Beth giggled. "The two of you were so cute..."
He gave her a half-hearted glare, too tired for more. "I am going to bed," he said with what little remained of his dignity. Being domestic was still taking some getting used to, especially with an audience.
She grinned. "Me, too. Is that all we'll be doing?" she added innocently.
Holmes couldn't conceal a drowsy smile. He took her hand and kissed it, levering himself up off the sofa. "Ask me again in the morning..."
It had dawned on Watson that since the number of people at 221B had doubled, including an infant, it was rather unfair to leave all the chores to the womenfolk, especially since he was no longer a martyr to his old injuries. Once breakfast next morning was cleared away, he borrowed one of Mrs. Hudson's spare aprons and began carrying the filled coal scuttles from the back door upstairs, sitting room first.
Beth was curled up on the settee, reading (or attempting to read) The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes for the billionth time. She was waiting for a chance to make an apology to John, and her already-nervous state spiked when he entered the room. After a moment, she managed a "Hi."
Watson grinned in recognition of how odd he must look in shirtsleeves and apron, tugging his forelock in the manner of a deliveryman. "Mornin', marm!" He lugged the heavy scuttle the last few feet to the fireplace and set it down gratefully.
She giggled in spite of herself and sat a bit straighter. "Sally was telling me about the play—sounds like you guys had a lot of fun." For which she was very, very glad.
"We're both still humming it," Watson chuckled. "Rutland Barrington was marvellous as the police sergeant, stole the show!"
Beth grinned, his cheerful mood infectious. Zed, and now she didn't want to spoil it! But I have to make this apology...
He sat down in his armchair for a moment's rest, leaving the apron on. "If you ever get the chance to see him, go – he always sings just a tiny bit flat, but no one can tell whether he does it on purpose or not." Watson smiled at the memory. "I haven't seen Sally enjoy herself that much in a long time."
Beth smiled sympathetically. "Aww. I'm glad." She bit her lip, then decided she had to be brave and bite the bullet. "Ah... speaking of plays... I actually owe you a, um, way, waaay overdue apology." She blushed as she said it, wishing she'd done this long before now.
He blinked in surprise, taking a moment or two to realise what she meant. "Oh! Oh, Beth, there's no need, honestly."
She sighed. "Yes, there is. I was being thoughtless. I knew the story, and I didn't stop to think at all about how it could affect you and Sherlock." She didn't quite meet his eyes, remembering how pale and upset he'd looked in Wyndham Theatre before she'd run out after Sherlock. "And I'm really sorry."
Watson smiled kindly. "That's quite all right, Beth. You didn't mean any harm, please don't keep berating yourself over it." All things considered, he couldn't find it in him to regret having attended that play. If nothing else, meeting Edward and Jeremy had certainly been worth the additional drama.
She lowered her eyes and nodded, cheeks flaming. She had to apologise, but she didn't deserve that kind of kindness. "Thank you, Doctor," she said softly, and then instantly wished she hadn't. In conversation with Sally, with Sherlock, even in the privacy of her own mind, she had long since gotten used to calling Dr. Watson 'John', and it was beyond her why she couldn't make herself say it to his face.
He looked at her quizzically. 'Doctor'? Surely they were past such formalities by now... Well, you might feel that way, but does Beth?
She felt rather than saw the question in his expression, and looked up slightly. "What?"
"Beth, are we... are we friends?"
She froze, and averted her gaze again. "Um... I—" her cheeks reddened again—"didn't... didn't think we were..." That's a horrible thing to say! ...it's also true! We've married each other's friends but that doesn't mean we are!
Oh, well done, now you've embarrassed her more! "Forgive me, I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that." Softly, "Beth, I... I never meant to make you feel that you weren't welcome. If there's anything I've done to give you that impression –" He blushed, looking down himself as the uncomfortable memory intruded: "Well, besides deserting you here that time..."
She flinched—those memories were still a lot more painful than she wanted them to be. "Well... yeah, there was definitely that, but... I mean... you don't have to... feel like you need to make me feel welcome." She didn't know why he was talking like this, but she wished he would stop.
Watson raised both eyebrows at 'have to' and smiled, shaking his head at himself; he'd really mucked things up here. "Beth, it may have been presumptuous of me, but I have valued you as a friend ever since you first helped us to bring the Doctor back. Thinking back, however... I can see how you might have missed that. Perhaps I was keeping my distance when you rejoined us because I'd hoped... well... you and Holmes..."
Beth looked up, frowning incredulously—she'd sometimes suspected, but it stung to hear it confirmed. "...me and Sherlock... what?" she said sharply. "Spending time with me was the last thing he wanted to do—the last thing anybody wanted to do. I mean, I ended up getting dumped into the lap of a poor landlady who didn't even know me." Oh yes, good, blow your top like a ten-year-old. She looked back down, colouring again. "Sorry."
"No, Beth, don't apologise." Deep down, he'd known she wouldn't join him and Sally at the hotel, that invitation had been solely to appease his own conscience. "But if you think Holmes didn't care about you then... ask yourself why he tried to drink his own actor under the table."
Her frown deepened—what was John getting at? "He was still ticked off about the play—that didn't have anything to do with me."
"Oh, didn't it? A charming, debonair version of himself, and you on Jeremy's arm, all starry-eyed..." Watson had to grin at the memory, now that he finally understood what those venomous looks in the actor's direction had been about. "Now, admittedly, you're not the first fangirl Holmes has ever met – but I'm fairly certain he didn't drink himself into a stupor after the Peter Cushing marathon."
She sighed. "Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure the Peter Cushing version didn't end with Sherlock also being Moriarty. Besides, he didn't really fall in love with me until the world was ending, and even then only because I stuck with him—he said so himself." Because you have seen me at my worst, Beth, and have never turned away... "If everything hadn't gone south, he wouldn't've ever looked twice at me. Look, nobody's ever actually chosen to be with me—" she swallowed at the sudden lump in her throat, making her next words catch—"not even Chloe."
Watson's brow furrowed, floored for a moment by the sudden influx and not at all sure what to respond to first. "I thought... you and Chloe were friends."
"We were," Beth said softly. "We'd known each other our whole lives, right from daycare." They'd been described more than once as conjoined twins; Chloe's death had felt like half of Beth had been ripped out, leaving her gaping open and bleeding... "That's the point—in a room full of people, nobody... seeks me out." Her better judgement screamed at her to stop, but now that she'd started, all the darker thoughts and feelings she'd kept bottled up inside—not even telling Sally or Sherlock—were tumbling out of her mouth and she couldn't stop them. "Nobody becomes my friend without circumstances pushing them into it—if they did, they wouldn't leave."
She glared defiantly at John past blurring vision. "First my dad with his work—he might as well have been in the army, for all that I got to see him, growing up. And then my brother actually joined the military. And then all my school friends... Chloe was the only one who didn't leave of her own free will... But then the Doctor came back for me, and I felt... chosen..." Her voice turned bitter. "Until I figured it out in the middle of Frozen Time: he didn't come back for me for my sake—he came back for Sherlock's." Very few things had hurt like that realisation: being nothing more than a pawn, something to be used for someone else's benefit.
She looked down again, voice quieting. "So then he left me here, to look after Sherlock. And then you and Sally left, and then even Sherlock... left. And that's when it felt like one big joke... and I wished I'd never come... Dreaming about the TARDIS coming back for me some day would have been so much... nicer... than knowing that no one was ever going to care enough to come back." Her voice broke. "Not for me."
Watson listened in appalled silence, which was soon joined by cold shame as he realised that she was right. Even without his deserting her and forcing Sally to do the same... how often had he actually treated Beth as a friend in her own right, rather than as Sally's friend, or in connection with Holmes? "Oh, Beth!" he whispered, then got up and came over to sit beside her, tentatively putting his arm around her; she definitely looked in need of a hug just now, even if he didn't know exactly how she might react.
She looked at him uncertainly, not having expected that. Then, mind strangely quiet, she rested her head on his shoulder, her body still tense with the effort of holding back tears.
"Beth, I... I wish I knew what to say... because I can see now that you have been let down, very badly. I'm so sorry."
A couple of tears got past her defences. "I didn't mean to go off on you," she whispered.
He shook his head gently. "It's all right, Beth. I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I haven't been the friend to you that I should have been – that I wanted to be."
She looked at him mutely, wishing she could think of something to say... but she wasn't even sure what to think.
"But I mean to do better in future, if you'll let me." A sudden chuckle. "And if you'll promise to stop calling me 'Doctor', it makes me feel old!"
She blushed. "Sorry... John." Calling him by his first name felt so much stranger than calling Sherlock by his ever did. Maybe it's the more significant age gap?
"Watson's fine, too, if you'd rather," he smiled.
She blushed again. "I feel like that'd be a little too weird," she said shyly. Going by her own time's standards, downright disrespectful.
Watson nodded, he understood. "John it is, then." He hesitated, then decided to go ahead and say it, it probably couldn't make things any worse. "Beth, I hope I'm not out of line by saying this... but I do think you're mistaken about Holmes. Yes, he can be a stubborn idiot in matters of the heart, I'm sure he did everything he could to convince himself that he wasn't in love with you... but even Holmes can only lie to himself for so long." "For my part, I am ashamed to admit... it was only when I feared she might leave me..."
She frowned. Sherlock had once said something similar, but it was still very hard to process—almost as if it was easier to forgive him for the way he treated her because she thought he hadn't cared. The idea of him caring made it worse. "But..."
"He did choose to be with you, Beth. I know he's had moments when he wondered if he was truly doing right by marrying you, but those doubts were for your sake, not his. If you could have seen him after you left Goldini's –" The memory of his friend in such distress still made Watson's chest hurt; "he was completely distraught at the thought of having to let you go."
She bit her lip, heart aching at the memory. "I know..."
"From the little he's told me, it's clear to me that he'd already fallen in love with you long before you rescued him." And Holmes seemed to have admitted very little to Beth on that subject, either; Watson might need to have a talk with him next. "That journey you took together just helped him to admit it, that's all."
She gave a mirthless laugh and muttered, "I swear he has no idea of how to communicate..."
"Don't I know it! Still..." Watson smiled at the return of a much pleasanter memory; "he does have his moments. Do you know what he told Mycroft, when we went to Whitehall that day? That husband of yours said, and I quote, that he loved you dearly, and had done for months."
Her eyes went round; she knew very well how big a deal it must have been for Sherlock to say that. "Oh, wow..."
"Mm-hm." Watson chuckled. "Mycroft just about fell off his chair!"
She smiled weakly. "I'll bet." She straightened and wiped at her wet eyes to give herself something to do, not knowing what else to say.
He looked at her in concern, then took out his handkerchief and offered it to her. "Are you all right?"
She took the handkerchief and wiped her face, nodding hastily. "I'm okay, I'm okay. I just... it's a little much." The words started to tumble out again, one on top of another, and she wished she could stop herself. "To handle, sometimes. I mean, I do know... Sherlock loves me... a lot... Hafta question his taste in spouses sometimes, 'cos I don't... I don't really understand why... I mean, I don't even... don't even like myself... not really..." Then she stopped at last, reddening—but it felt so, so good to say that, something she'd felt she couldn't say to anyone ever.
Watson could only blink – what in heaven's name was he to say to that?! Beth had already demonstrated that she didn't handle compliments at all well, and this was an awkward enough moment already.
Abort, abort, NOW. What the zed are you doing?! Rambling on and on, and poor John does not need to hear all this. Beth scrambled to stand. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry." She handed back his handkerchief. "I should let you get back to what you were doing."
"Coal scuttles," Watson grinned ruefully – he still had the two upstairs bedrooms to go. He rose and started to exit the room, then paused, turning. "Beth, I... I hope you don't feel that... Well, taking me into your confidence, I'm sure that can't have been easy, and..." Smiling shyly, "Well, I just wanted to say, I'm glad we could talk."
She shifted on her feet, embarrassed and not knowing how quite to react, feeling as though her world had undergone a massive shift. He... cares about me? "...I'm sorry I dumped all that on you. I didn't mean to."
Repressing a sigh, Watson answered lightly, "You have a dreadful habit of apologising for being human, did you know?" One more thing she and her husband had in common.
She winced... and nodded reluctantly.
"Beth, it's my privilege to lend an ear when you need one – I'd like to think that's what a friend would do."
"I know—I just..." She chewed at her lip. "Doctor—John... I'm used to caring way, way more about people than they do about me, and not... not being a priority, for other people or myself." She sounded helpless to her own ears as she tried desperately to unravel her thoughts. "I just... I don't matter." Growing up the oldest of her mother's five children had sidelined her, made her second priority to her younger siblings in her parents' eyes. Whatever her younger brothers and sister needed or wanted had come before what she needed or wanted. She had been raised to prioritize her responsibility to her siblings over herself, so of course that trait had carried over into her friendships. Chloe had never taken advantage of it. Others had.
"I-I shouldn't matter. I didn't matter to people—not just you—before, and I haven't changed, and I don't understand! I am... petty and selfish and vindictive and whiny and needy and reckless and stupid and boring and I have the worst temper—why the zed would you or anyone else actually want me around?! Sally needed me and Will, and the boys... needed me and Sherlock..." She gestured helplessly with a despairing laugh—poor Sherlock, so thoroughly dependent upon someone as fragile as she was. "Even Moriarty and Moran only wanted me to get back at Sherlock! What's your excuse?"
Poor girl... Watson could have just about wept at the self-loathing in Beth's voice, but answered gently, smiling, "You know, you've just perfectly described Holmes on his worst days? Yet the rest of us are all still here – why do you think that is?"
She stared at him, shaking her head slowly. "That's not... he... I..." She couldn't think of a single thing to say in retort that couldn't be easily shot down by John, and instead blurted out, "That's not fair!"
The doctor's eyebrows shot up. "Not fair? Beth, I'm just trying to help you see that it's high time you gave yourself the same break that you unconsciously give to everyone you care about. Because I think I don't have to tell you, do I, that being a friend to someone has nothing to do with what they can do, and everything to do with who they are – because a true friend makes the good times a joy, and the harder times worth the effort." Holmes had certainly done so, however challenging he have might been to live with at times, and Watson dearly hoped he had done the same. "More than enough of an excuse, if you must use that word." He looked Beth steadily in the eye, going on in a softer voice, but just as firm, "Beth, you are my friend because of the person you are – and that is reason enough, believe me."
Her vision blurred again. She opened her mouth, closed it, repeated the motions several times before putting her hand over her mouth and turning half away. She didn't know what to think, let alone what to say. She knew he was right. She was depressive with an appalling lack of self-confidence, but she wasn't stupid, not really. But I've been this way so long that I don't know how to live any differently...
Dear heavens, he just couldn't seem to stop setting her off, however hard he tried... A red-faced Watson was secretly relieved when the awkward silence was broken by Kathy starting to cry in the upstairs bedroom.
Beth was starting to take a step towards the bedroom and jumped a little at the sound, stopping and glancing at the other door. I should go up, shouldn't I? Sally was downstairs doing chores, and John was trying to do chores himself...
"Oh, I should, ah..." Watson hated to leave the conversation there, but Beth could probably do with some time to herself right now, anyhow. "Please excuse me." He hurried out of the room and upstairs. Once Kathy was calm and dry again, he carried her downstairs in her basket – she'd be all right in the kitchen for a few minutes while he made the last deliveries.
Beth stirred to life as John passed the door. "Wait, John?" Pausing, she continued shyly, "Let me take her—Sally's probably still busy."
Watson hesitated. "You don't mind?" Kathy settled the matter with a chirp of approval, waving her wee fists.
Beth nodded, holding out her arms with a hopeful expression. "Please?" Just holding Kathy was more comforting than probably anyone would understand.
"Thank you." He handed the basket over with a smile and headed downstairs, very relieved that Beth was starting to look more like herself again.
Beth lifted the baby out of the basket, settling back onto the sofa with Kathy. "Hey, little lady," she said softly, kissing the baby's head. "How was the nap, huh?"
Frowning, the little one gave a soft whimper and reached up to Beth's face.
Beth's eyes widened in understanding, guilt flooding her. Of course, their little Time Lady—every bit as sensitive as Nikola to the emotions of those around her, but with none of the skills and discipline to block them out. "Oh, honey, I am so sorry!" She touched her forehead to the baby's. "Sweetie, I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean for that to bother you."
Kathy cooed, her hand finding Beth's hair and clutching it.
The young woman smiled in spite of herself and rubbed her nose against Kathy's tiny one. "Oh, baby, what would we do without you?"
"Ba!" Kathy burbled, smiling back.
Beth's mouth fell open. "You didn't... you weren't just... just saying my name, were you? You should be too young for that!"
But the baby beamed, looking immensely proud of herself, leaving no doubt in Beth's mind.
She was too stunned even for happy tears, staring at Kathy, a more genuine smile slowly creeping up on her. "Oh my gosh!" she breathed, then laughed and kissed the baby's forehead. "You brilliant girl! Wait 'til we tell Mama and Daddy—they're gonna be so jealous! After they hit the ceiling!"
Kathy crowed, eyes dancing.
Beth grinned back, her heart swelling with love for this remarkable little girl. She couldn't begin to imagine loving a child of her own body more. She stood, shifting her hold on the baby. "C'mon, let's go tell them!"
As she descended the stairs, she called, "Sally, John! Your little Time Lady is talking!"
There was a loud, clattering crash in the downstairs hall, sounding remarkably like a dropped coal scuttle.
Sky: So, once again, we're working through stuff that we figured should be worked through, including giving the poor Watsons a break! (And, admit it, the mental image of Sherlock Holmes falling asleep on the couch with a baby is precious.) And the thing with Beth, I will admit, is my fault. I kind of built up issues with her to make her more of a rounded character than the original version, and then I had to deal with them. Don't worry—someday, Beth will find her confidence. She's only 18, after all! And last but not least, Kathy saying Beth's name is down to Ria—it's actually an idea from an old draft that we managed to recycle, and it's so cute!
Ria: I suspect I may have issues with my youngest only being a year off school. *sigh* At least fanfic babies don't have to grow up any faster than you want them to!
