Disclaimer: I tried the sex slave spell. Doesn't work on fictional characters though my cat is giving me some rather disturbing looks. I'm a bit worried about that. Guess it's back to the drawing board. The characters are still not mine.

A/N: If you're a fan of Anderson do not read this chapter. In fact don't read any more of this story if you're an Anderson fan.

Beginning to Fall

Humphrey Anderson had endured an awful lot in his life. An abusive father. An alcoholic mother. A lifetime of everyone around him looking down on him. The Psychopath contaminating his crime scenes. The woman in his life disobeying him constantly. But the past three months made the rest of his life seem roses and rainbows.

Ever since that stupid bint Penelope had gossiped to Sally about her baby everyone had been eyeing him with disfavor. Half of his techs refused to work with him and the ones that would said the bare minimum to him. He hadn't been out to the pub for drinks with the boys in months. They wouldn't invite him and when he just showed up at The White Stag they all moved so that he couldn't sit with them.

And Francine was growing more and more weepy with every passing day. The kid was messing with her hormones and her doctors told her that it was normal. Anderson didn't believe that for a moment. Francine was clingy and wanted him home every night. She hadn't taken a trip on business or pleasure since she'd found out she was pregnant. God he hated being in that house with her.

He knew that stupid bitch Donovan and the Psychopath were behind all of this. The day after Chelton had announced her pregnancy to him the Psychopath and his pet had visited the Yard with their demon spawned niece. The day after that everyone knew that Chelton was pregnant with his kid. Donovan was pregnant too but no one even blinked at that.

Hell, more than half the Yard had attended her wedding to that stupid painter last weekend. All he'd heard about all week when he'd eavesdropped had been gushing about how beautiful the bride was and how transparent the painter's adoration had been. He'd also heard that the Psychopath had been Best Man and his speech had made Donovan cry. That had cheered him for a minute until he heard they'd been tears of happiness and relief. Apparently the Psychopath had been touching and nice.

His life was becoming beyond intolerable. One little mistake with a PC that no one had even noticed before and he was suddenly persona non grata at the Yard. No one talked to him beyond business. He got all the crap cases and if Chelton was on a scene he was told he wasn't needed. Hell, if the Psychopath was there he was told to leave in no uncertain terms. It wasn't fair.

Everything was that bint Chelton's fault! He'd been fine until she had to go and open her big mouth. No one needed to know but she'd gone and blabbed about her pregnancy to all and sundry.

He glared moodily at his computer screen. He had to fix this. He would fix this. Chelton wouldn't get away with ruining his life this way.

He pushed away from the desk and stalked to his office door. He'd go see her and set her straight. She needed to confess that the kid wasn't his. Who knows who the kid's real father was. It could have been anyone. It wasn't like she'd been faithful to him. No one ever was.

He tossed open the door and stalked down the hall to leave for the evening. She wouldn't get away with ruining his reputation and his life this way. No one messed with Humphrey Anderson and got away with it.

SH/JW SH/JW SH/JW

John swam up from the depths of sleep and flung an arm out around his husband to stop the beeping on the nightstand. A crash and a groan had Sherlock sitting up and blinking at the darkness. "It wasn't the alarm, John," he said huskily.

"Thanks," John grumbled. "I think I've deduced that one for myself this time." He sat up and swung his legs off of the bed. "It's my phone."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the obvious statement and flopped back on the bed. "Well, you'd better answer it then. Bea might have colic again and Molly's going insane trying to get her to sleep while Mycroft calls on every child specialist he knows…again."

John snorted. "God, I hope not. He should know better than that by now. He'll call me first." He rooted around on the floor and finally found his phone. He checked the caller ID and frowned. "It's Penny."

Sehrlock sat back up in alarm. "Penny Chelton? She never calls this late! Why is she calling now? John, answer it. Hurry up!"

"Shut up, Sherlock," John hissed as he brought the phone to his ear. "What's wrong, Penny?" He paused. "Penny? Are you there?" He could hear her breathing on the other end but it sounded off. Weaker than it should have been. "Penny?"

"H-he's kill…killed her, Dr. John," Penny's weak voice finally sounded it was followed by a wet cough. "He's killed my…baby girl." John heard a gasping breath that sounded bubbly somehow. "Ander…son. He's…he's…kill…" Her voice trailed off and John quickly snatched up his trouser and shirt.

"Penny!" John shouted. "Don't go to sleep! Penny! Stay with me!" He flung trousers to the already moving Sherlock and hunted up his shoes as Sherlock fled to the bathroom and came back with John's medical bag. "Penny tell me where you're hurt. Penny! Sherlock, she's not responding anymore. Call an ambulance and the police and a taxi. I'll keep trying."

Sherlock nodded even as his fingers were already flying over his phone. He gave out Penny's address and what little he knew to the dispatcher and requested they call Lestrade after they sent out the ambulance. He called Sally as they raced out the door. Sally would be a good choice to be there for the other woman. They had become friends and Penny would need a friend if what John was cursing about were true.

"This had better be good, Freak, I'm on my honeymoon," Sally's voice growled at him when she picked up.

"Fuck," Sherlock hissed in an uncharacteristic curse. "I'd forgotten."

"You forgot?" Sally's voice was more alert and clear. "What's going on? What's wrong? You never forget anything and you never curse. SHERLOCK! What's happened?"

"Sals," Ian's voice penetrated her frantic questioning. "Sals, calm down. Give me the phone. That's a girl." There was a short pause and then Ian's voice was clearer. "Shock? What's wrong? Are you injured? No, is John injured. You wouldn't be calling us if you were injured."

"Kill! Shut up and just listen to me," Sherlock barked. "Penny called John. She said the baby's dead. You have to get Sally over there now. Can you do that?"

"Penny?" Ian questioned faintly. "Baby?" Sherlock heard him draw in a deep breath. "Yeah, yeah, just…we'll be there in ten." Ian hung up and Sherlock dialed Lestrade again even though he hoped they weren't walking into a murder scene. John's increasingly frantic calls for Penny to answer him in the silence of the cab gave faintness to that hope with each subsequent breath.