Hi all! This is my first Sherlock X Irene story, and also my first one shot. It's full of firsts! This is for anyone who, like me, is deprived of Adlock, both from the series and from fanfiction.
Enjoy!
(By the way, I shortened Sherlock's disappearance from two years to a few months, just to make it all work better. You'll see.)
Sherlock's Surprise
It was a dull and rainy mid-evening, and all was quiet on Baker Street. The only disturbance was the clack of heels on the pavement, their owner tucking the bundle of blankets in her arms into her coat and pulling up her collar. She stopped when she reached the door with the knocker askew.
Irene Adler took a deep breath and rapped sharply on the dark wood.
Mrs Hudson heard the knock on the door and sighed.
That Sherlock and his clients.
She strode to the door and opened it on a pretty, familiar-looking young woman. Mrs Hudson smiled when she saw the baby in her arms.
"Sherlock! Client!" she called up the stairs.
She turned back to the girl at door.
"You just go on up, dear, and get out of the cold."
She couldn't place her finger on who the little child with the dark locks and blue eyes reminded her of.
Irene didn't bother telling Mrs Hudson that she wasn't a client. She obviously didn't recognise her, and it was best to stay discreet.
You never know who might be listening when you're involved with people like Sherlock Holmes.
She clacked noisily up the stairs, wondering if he had already deduced that it was her.
When she knocked on the door it was answered immediately, and Irene looked up into the azure eyes of Sherlock Holmes.
"Irene," he said, looking mildly surprised. "What are you -"
He cut off when those lovely eyes drifted down to the sleeping baby that she held. He looked up at her frantically, not needing to voice the question. She nodded. He looked down again, incredulous.
Then Sherlock Holmes stumbled back and held the door for mother and child to come in.
They stood there in awkward silence in the living area, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Irene dared to speak:
"May I, er, lay him down to sleep?" she asked tentatively.
He nodded distractedly, and she lay the baby on the couch. Sherlock immediately pulled up a chair to prevent him from falling, and Irene was surprised at these sudden parental instincts. She smiled faintly as she took a seat across from him.
"What -" he began, his voice faltering. "What's his name?"
Irene properly grinned now, a little twinkle in her eye.
"Hamish," she said. "Hamish Adler Holmes."
Sherlock couldn't keep the small smirk off his face.
"John will be delighted."
She looked down. "You're planning on telling him, then?"
He looked slightly taken aback.
"Yes, of course," he said. "If that's alright with you, that is."
Irene nodded. "It's just that - if I'm not mistaken - you didn't tell him about how you saved me in Karachi." She blushed. "Or anything else that happened in Karachi."
Sherlock coughed.
"Well, I think this is a... Mite more important."
She laughed for the first time that evening, her smile reaching all the way to her eyes.
"If you're going to tell him about the effect, why not tell him about the cause? Though, I do think that he might need to call his therapist."
He huffed, but try as he might, he couldn't disguise a chuckle.
They sat there for a moment in companionable silence, something that had been long missing, from Irene's life.
She suddenly stood up, and Sherlock rose with her.
"I'd better be getting back to the hotel."
He nodded, moving closer to shake her hand - and then it happened. She tilted her head slightly, he leaned in hesitantly. And then he was kissing her, or she was kissing him, it didn't matter. What mattered was that her arms were around his neck, and his hands were on her waist, and he was pulling away and smiling imploringly.
"Stay."
She nodded breathlessly, and without a word, she picked up Hamish and walked towards the bedroom. She turned before she reached the door, looking back at him.
"Goodnight, Sherlock."
Sherlock crashed onto the bed hours later, exhausted after a night of work. It was only then that he registered the situation.
He made to get up, but realised something. He didn't want to.
So instead, he moved closer to Irene, wrapping his arms around around her. Her small, soft hand closed around his.
He drifted off faster than he usually did that night.
When John Hamish Watson walked into Sherlock's flat with two coffees the next morning, he was greeted with a strange sight.
A half-asleep Irene Adler - someone he thought long dead - was leaning on the shoulder of his equally-sleepy best friend as they sat on the couch.
"At least he has fully functioning lungs," Sherlock muttered.
Irene laughed half-heartedly.
Uncomprehending, John looked over to the kitchen, where Mrs Hudson was doing over... A baby. A baby with startling blue eyes and... Dark curly locks.
He looked back to his friend, who seemed to have just noticed his presence.
"Ah, John. I hope you won't mind that we're turning your old room into a nursery."
John Hamish Watson promptly dropped the coffee.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! I might continue this story if people like it. Or if I feel like it.
Review please!