Joan and Sherlock. Chapter four
Summary: Joan gives birth and Sherlock is there. Warning: the author has worked in the field of midwifery and the childbirth will be accurately depicted. Please be advised.
Disclaimer: Elementary is the property of CBS and no artistic infringement is intended.
Sherlock and Joan were not surprised when Marcus Bell and Felicity Ferguson hit it off. The attraction between them had been quite obvious from their initial meeting. What surprised them all was that it was a wild, no-holds-barred affair that resulted in a total change in the lives of Marcus and Felicity.
Two months after Marcus and Felicity spent that day and night together followed by countless other nights together, Marcus came by the brownstone late one evening to speak to Sherlock and Joan. He had Felicity with him and it was obvious that it was a serious matter they wanted to discuss with them.
They sat holding hands on the sofa and Joan and Sherlock sat side by side facing them.
"I wanted to speak with both of you about this," Marcus said. "You both seem to be so . . . happy together, and now seeing you having a baby together. Well, we might as well tell you. Felicity is pregnant, and I am happy to take responsibility for that."
Marcus turned to Felicity and kissed her on her cheek.
"Marcus, you didn't plan this?" Sherlock was shocked.
"No, but we didn't take any precautions. We literally lost our minds when this thing hit us. Felicity told me last week that she had confirmed that she is really pregnant." Marcus smiled in spite of himself. "We thought it was a case of the flu."
Felicity looked suddenly ill and Joan took her to the bathroom.
"Morning sickness," Marcus said. "Sometimes it is evening as well."
"Marcus, you old dog," Sherlock said with a smile. "I knew this woman had your 'nose open' as they say, but you strike me as such a careful bloke, the kind with condoms in every drawer and every pants pocket."
"They were there but I didn't use them. We didn't think about anything except how badly we wanted each other." Marcus' eyes suddenly filled as his emotions overwhelmed him. "I need this woman in my life, Holmes. I have never been in love like this. I think perhaps you would understand this, seeing how it is with you and Joan. God, I love her. That first day I took her home, before we knew it, we got into bed together, and that was that. We have not spent a night apart since that first night. We want this baby and I want to marry her, Holmes."
Joan was sitting on the edge of the bathtub in their bedroom as Felicity threw up. When she composed herself, Felicity just shook her head.
"Joan, I just don't know what happened. I saw Marcus and I was done. I saw him and I wanted to be with him. Maybe seeing you and Sherlock together that day, you pregnant for him, made me realize what was missing in my life. I saw the two of you, and you know that I knew Sherlock before. But he was so changed, so focused on you, so in love with you. When I first met you with him on that case last year, I could see then that he was in love with you.
"And I have sold the business, Joan. I can't be with a cop and be in that line of work. I have training as a physical therapist. I'm going to be working in that again . . . after I have this baby."
"Marcus is tops, Felicity. Just be sure that this is the real thing."
"I know it is, Joan. I never ever risked getting pregnant with any guy. But I threw caution to the wind with Marcus. I wanted to carry for him. Is that weird?"
"Not if you love him the way you say you do. When it's like that, a woman knows it."
"And when we had intercourse and he was on top of me, I did not fear him. I did not want to dominate him, Joan. I have only known men who would hurt me, Joan, and I promised that I would the be the one doing the hurting if anyone was inflicting pain. But he didn't want to hurt me and I only wanted to surrender to him, and for the first time in my adult life, I did. I completely surrendered to moments of the most incredible pleasure, and I knew that he was the one. When he took me to the top of that roller coaster ride they talk about and I gave in to him, it was indescribable! It was beautiful and clean and wild and powerful at the same time. I hope that this conversation does not embarrass you, but I thought you would understand it. When I told Marcus that I was pregnant, he cried for joy."
Felicity's own tears began to flow and she and Joan hugged and they became friends from that day on.
When Joan and Felicity came back to the parlor to sit down with their men, Marcus caught Sherlock just staring at Joan and it was a stare that Marcus had become well famIliar with during the time that he had known them. At nearly seven months along, Joan was radiantly pregnant and the sight of her on this evening, wearing black tights and a bright blue sweater that clung snugly to her belly and swollen breasts evidently aroused Sherlock, as only Joan could do. He crossed his legs in an attempt to minimize his reaction but he was pitifully lost in his emotions and Marcus picked up on it.
"So, Holmes, we just wanted to tell you our news first. We're planning to get married next week and we want you two to stand up with us, if you will. No big affair . . . just my brother and a few friends. We are on our way now to a little pre-honeymoon weekend up in the Catskills. We need this time alone together. We are at that stage where we want to climb all over each other all the time and we need some privacy. I know that you and Joan would understand our predicament."
Marcus and Felicity took their leave of them and Sherlock and Joan just smiled and hugged and kissed each other after the front door closed.
Joan wanted to discuss thenMarcus/Felicity matter at length, but Sherlock kept holding her fast and his eyes had that languid, hangdog look she knew so well.
"May we talk about them later, luv? I am pathetically in need of you."
That is when he then began to kiss her all over her face and neck and Joan took him off to bed to take care of him. She never ever refused Sherlock and Sherlock, who had experienced Jamie Moriarty's wicked caprice, was constantly overjoyed at her willingness to be a vessel for his pleasure and joy.
The next week they stood along with Marcus Bell and Felicity Ferguson before a judge as they were married. Marcus was handsome in a light gray suit and his bride, Felicity, lovely in a simple flowing white wrap dress. Joan had puzzled over what to wear on her swollen belly and finally decided to wear a stunning blue silk jersey dress that advertised her pregnant state in a beautiful way, while Sherlock wore his favorite dark navy suit. After a small restaurant reception all saw the newly wed couple off on a wedding trip to the Bahamas.
On their way home in a taxi afterwards Sherlock leaned over and kissed Joan.
"You look quite stunning today, luv. This frock does adorn your pregnant figure in a most interesting way. My libido is so stimulated right now that I can hardly think. I am feeling quite needy, luv."
Sherlock took her hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it and then each of her fingertips while Joan ran her fingers through his hair with her other hand. In the darkness of the cab, his hand slipped up between Joan's thighs under her dress and squeezed her gently.
"Sherlock, I think I know what we are going to do when we get home tonight."
"I am sure you do, luv. My imagination is working overtime. Since becoming your consort, I cannot seem to get enough of you. And just the sight of you today is so stimulating that all I can think of is how much I love you and need you, my beautiful Joan. If Marcus finds in Felicity half the pleasure you have brought to me, his joy will be indescribable. I do love you so."
"Well, Felicity told me that Marcus is quite a package, if you know what I mean, so they are having a good time."
"Yes, hung like an elephant, " Sherlock grinned.
"Well, you are too, or maybe a hairy mammoth," Joan teased, patting him on his distended crotch.
When they arrived back at the brownstone and got inside, Sherlock kissed Joan tenderly and then picked her up and carried her off to bed.
As Joan entered her ninth month, Sherlock became increasingly concerned because her belly increased in size dramatically and her breasts became so full and heavy with their nipples constantly protruded, that Sherlock was constantly fascinated at the changes in her body. It was warm, late summer and Joan was very warm. She had taken to wearing mostly shorts and loose tee shirts that now had to stretch over her increasing girth and her navel had finally turned outward under the pressure.
Gregson had suggested that they have a dog for protection in view of past threats, and in view of that, they had adopted a huge black Lab, George, who had immediately made himself very much a part of the establishment. Sherlock felt more comfortable when he had to leave Joan alone these days.
Sherlock put his arms around Joan from behind her as she stood at the kitchen counter and he kissed her neck and her shoulders over and over as his slender fingers felt her belly with its precious burden.
"Joan, luv, you are so beautiful like this . . . like an orchid in full bloom. I cannot put in words my gratitude to you."
"Gratitude for?"
Sherlock turned her to face him.
"Gratitude for carrying our wee one. I see you like this . . . and I sense with all my soul the burden you are carrying."
"That's why it is called 'carrying'," Joan said with a secret smile.
"But you are so petite . . . tiny. The thought of your giving birth frightens me, Joan."
Joan put her hands on her hips as she spoke.
"Sherlock, do you realize that a quarter of the earth's population was born from women that look like me? I can have this baby, Sherlock.
At that moment there was someone at the door. When Sherlock opened, he was stunned to see his father there.
"Sherlock, I was in town briefly and I thought I would check to see how the renovations I suggested for this place were done."
"Welcome, father. You find us somewhat at a disadvantage since we did not expect a visit. Joan has been somewhat . . ."
Joan came to see who had arrived and was surprised to see the elder Holmes who was just as surprised to see a gloriously pregnant Joan wearing a large loose bright green tee shirt and white shorts.
"My God, Sherlock, what have you done to this woman? She is positively radiant!"
Sherlock flushed and smiled as he embraced Joan and kissed her cheek.
"We are expecting, father. . . very soon actually. Please come in. We will make tea. I have some excellent Earl Grey."
They moved into the parlor and Joan went to put on water for tea as Sherlock's father watched her intently.
"I am so proud of you, son. I had despaired of the Holmes line continuing what with Mycroft having had treatment for leukemia and your not seeming to be able to settle down. My congratulations, son, on a job well done! My dear Joan, you are fairly blooming."
Joan brought the tea and bowed respectfully as she served her father-in-law and then Sherlock.
"Do you know the sex of the wee one?"
"No, we wanted to just wait and see." Joan said as she sat down between Sherlock and his father.
"Sherlock . . . Joan may I touch you? May I touch the bairn?"
"Joan, do you mind if father touches his grandchild?"
Joan did not hesitate to agree, but lifted her tee shirt revealing her belly completely. It was so full, lightly sprinkled with freckles and her navel had even turned outward under the pressure of the load she carried. Sherlock took his father's hands and placed them on Joan's belly and he felt all around her. The baby suddenly moved and a tiny foot or elbow seemed to be pushing outward.
"The baby is very active. I think I am carrying a boy, but Sherlock thinks it is a girl."
The elder Holmes voice caught in his throat.
"This is the most beautiful thing, most beautiful thing that I have ever seen. No one told me this wonderful news. It seems that you will need a nursery added to your master bedroom."
Joan pulled her tee shirt down and Sherlock kissed her tenderly on her cheek.
"Thank you, luv," he said softly, his eyes fixed on her.
All three of them bonded in a very special way at that moment. For the first time in his life Sherlock felt unreserved affection from his father and total approval for the way his life was turning out.
"Father, perhaps you could stay and we might all go out to dinner."
"Actually, Sherlock, I have my driver and I must get to JFK to fly back to London this evening. But please notify me immediately upon the birth of my grandchild. I am very happy for both of you."
After Sherlock's father left, he and Joan simply hugged one another and went into their bedroom and lay down together.
"You are the beauty of my life, Joan. I love you so much. Did you see my father embrace our wee one in your belly? It was all three generations here together today . . . family, the sense of belonging is an amazing thing. I felt so powerfully bound to my father today."
Sherlock lifted Joan's tee shirt and kissed her all over her swollen belly, suckling her heavy breasts that were preparing for nursing, murmuring to his unborn child all the while. When Joan saw him caressing her belly and whispering to his child, she was overwhelmed and tears filled her eyes.
"Darling, you are crying?"
"I just realized how wonderful a father you will be. You love this baby as much as I, don't you?"
"Yes, I love this wee one and I love you, Joan . . . beyond my capacity to express. I love this beautiful fullness in your belly and breasts."
"I feel so unattractive like this, Sherlock, and yet you tell me that I am still beautiful with my body swollen with our little one."
"You are beautiful. I especially love the heaviness in your breasts and watching you move with our little one inside you. I see people looking at you; men see you and they know how you got what you have. They envy me because they know the joy that your woman's body is bringing to me. They know that I thrill to suckle your breasts and feel my offspring moving in your belly."
Sherlock kissed Joan's mouth over and over and they were soon lost in each other, speaking love words to each other. Sherlock tried to restrain himself but he desired Joan so that he was soon groaning passionately as he positioned himself against Joan's back and his parts found congruence and then connection with hers as he embraced her.
"Sherlock . . . Hold me, Sherlock. I love you so much. I want you to find comfort in me. You make me feel so much, baby."
"I don't want to tire you, luv, but I need to be close to you. You are the only woman I have ever been this close to, after being lonely for so long . . . so long."
They began to rock gently together, Sherlock carefully holding himself in check so that he would not unleash all his power on Joan, but at the same time he brought Joan all the way to the peak of release with him, leaving her gasping as it came over her.
"There you go, luv. Take it easy." Sherlock whispered in her ear as she trembled in his arms when her moment came.
Then suddenly, Sherlock lost control and saw stars as the moment of release captured him completely.
"God! Oh, God!" He cried out as it swept him. "I love you, Joan."
They lay joined together for a long time, enjoying the powerful attachment that was the center of their lives now, letting their emotions ease them down to the point that they could let the connection go.
Joan turned so that she could face Sherlock. She wanted to look into his eyes in the soft early evening light.
"I tried to exercise restraint, luv, but . . . I lose myself when we touch. When I see you like this, with our bairn in your belly, it excites me so much that I can hardly think of anything but being with you."
Sherlock's hand was rubbing her belly, feeling his little one moving inside her.
"But I just feel so heavy and ungainly these days, Sherlock."
"You are beautiful beyond any possible imagining, luv . . . beyond imagining."
Sherlock reached to their bedside table and retrieved the jar of special cream he had made from bee pollen and bees wax to rub on Joan's belly and he carefully massaged it into her skin.
Joan smiled as he took care of her this way.
"My doctor can't believe that I don't have stretch marks. I am going to let her just wonder."
"Well, you won't have any if I have anything to say about it. Look at you, darling. Father was very impressed with your womanly gifts."
Joan smiled and caught Sherlock's hand and kissed it.
"Will you massage my legs too, Sherlock? It feels so good when you do that."
Sherlock was delighted to attend to her this way, especially when Joan fell asleep under his ministrations as she did on this occasion. He covered her and left her to rest.
Sherlock took George for a walk while Joan slept. He enjoyed the exercise and the time to clear his head. He had been working solo on cases ever since Joan reached her seventh month so that she would not be taxed in her advanced stage of pregnancy and found that he missed working with his peer, his partner. Working in tandem with Joan had become such a joy for him. He missed the arguments, the blending of ideas, the moment of spontaneous solution.
When he got home, he checked on Joan, and finding her still sleeping made a cup of tea and carried it to the roof where he sat down with his bees and George. He had to reflect on his father's visit. Suddenly the sense of his father's approval of his life felt quite good. He was ready to be a father himself now and he vowed that he would be the affectionate father that he had craved and needed all his life . . . no boarding schools, no nannies, just the love of the two who had made him. He knew that Joan felt the same way.
Sherlock sat on the roof with George till the sun went down. He wanted to give Joan some space. The sight of her waddling about with his child in her belly just aroused him so much. She was so beautiful to him like this that the sight of her took his breath away. Her hair was nearly down to her waist these days, her eyes so full of her woman's wisdom as she carried her baby. Her soft breasts were barely confined in a soft sports bra most of the time and they were so full now that they looked as if the would float up from her bra. Sherlock so often found himself just staring at her in disbelief.
I just can't comprehend what I feel when I look at my woman. I see her and I want her but I have to take care of her. God, my flesh craves her in the worst way. That moment when it happens for us just carries us away. And she is as passionate as I. And I love her so much. She is so heavy with child now and she still welcomes me sexually. I don't deserve her, but I am so thankful to have her as my wife.
Sherlock went back downstairs and decided to work off some of his sensual energy by cooking, He set things up to make several loaves of her favorite banana bread.
When Joan wakened from her long nap, she smiled when she smelled the bread baking. She understood what her husband was doing. She understood it completely. He needed her and had to do something else to distract himself. He had said so earlier when they came together. She came behind Sherlock and leaned against his back.
Sherlock flushed as desire surged powerfully in him.
"Joan, luv, I find myself at a distinct disadvantage these days. I have such need of you, and I am trying so to be considerate of your gravid state."
"Baby, I need you as much as you need me. I just don't know what I would do if I didn't have you to care of my libido. I just see you and I want you, Sherlock."
Sherlock turned to face her with a look of unmitigated joy in his face and caught her up into his arms and kissed her soundly.
"You . . . my woman . . . my wife . . . I do love you so!"
Sherlock picked her up in his arms and carried her to the sofa and sat down with her straddling him on his lap and kissed her again and again on her face, her neck, the rise of her full breasts, her pregnant belly.
"Oh, God, Joan! I need you so."
Joan caught Sherlock's face in her hands and traced his lips with her fingertips. His eyes were full as he gazed at her in that way she knew so well and Joan loosened his pants and guided him inside her, watching him as his eyes rolled back into his head in ecstasy at the moment they connected once again.
The passion ran hot between them even as Sherlock tried to restrain himself in view of her delicate state. But as Joan moaned and cooed on him as they rocked gently together, he began to sob for joy as her parts gripped his again and again, till the climax swept over them at the same moment.
"Oh, God! Oh, Jesus!" Sherlock groaned. "You make me call on the Lord! Oh, God!"
"Sherlock, I wanted this so. Ooh, Sherlock!"
Sherlock gasped as he held Joan through her final trembling spasms onto him till she calmed and was finally able to speak.
"Sherlock, I am so hungry . . . the baby, you know, and your warm banana bread smells delicious."
"Of course, luv. Can we eat it in bed?"
Sherlock helped her up and buttered several slices of the banana bread and put them on a plate and he took it along with his wife as they went off to bed where Sherlock proceeded to delight Joan by feeding her his treat. Then he put the plate aside and took Joan into his arms for the countless time.
Joan also had another surprise late in her eighth month. The doorbell rang and when she went to the door, she was greeted by no one else but Mycroft. He was in a deep disguise but she recognized him just the same.
"Mycroft! I can't believe that that's you."
"May I step inside?"
"Just for a moment. Sherlock is not here and it would be better if you come only when he is here."
Mycroft stared at her advanced state of pregnancy, stunned at how radiant she looked.
"I can't believe what my brother has done to you! I heard this but I had to see for myself to believe it."
"Believe it, Mycroft."
"You did love him, didn't you? You always loved him."
"It was always Sherlock. And I wanted to carry for him. You left me feeling like a trollop, Mycroft, and I am still trying to come to terms with that. I was just a challenge to you, but Sherlock loved me and I love him."
"Has Sherlock forgiven you for being with me?" Mycroft smirked.
"I hope that he has. He will not even speak of it because he was so pained by that whole affair. But I have not forgiven you, Mycroft. You knew how he felt and then came after me anyway. You say you love your brother, but you know nothing about real love."
"I made a mistake, Joan. Even when we were intimate I sensed that you held back something of yourself. Please tell me that that is true and I will walk away."
"I did hold back something of myself from you, Mycroft, but I have held nothing back from your brother."
Mycroft dropped his head and turned to go, but then he turned back to face her.
"May I touch you . . . your belly before I go? You . . . look quite lovely with child."
"No, Mycroft, not now. I don't want you to ever touch me again. Please just leave me now."
Mycroft slowly walked out and away and Joan closed the door behind him. She put her hands under her belly to cradle the little one inside, and sank to the floor, her eyes filling with tears as once again she regretted the whole affair with Mycroft Holmes.
When Sherlock returned from his errand, he found Joan on the floor, cradling her belly and in tears. He sensed immediately that Joan was troubled and it concerned him greatly.
"What happened, luv? Are you all right?"
Joan's eyes brimmed with tears and Sherlock took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly, at which point Joan broke down in his arms.
"What happened, luv? What may I do to help?"
Joan just shook her head. "Mycroft came by here today. He heard that I'm pregnant."
"What did he want?"
"He said he wanted to see for himself. He asked to touch me . . . the baby here." She gestured to her belly.
Sherlock tried to remain calm, but he was incensed that Mycroft had come around at this point when Joan was so advanced in her pregnancy.
"Sherlock, I wish I had never met Mycroft. I just worry that you still may not have completely forgiven me . . . for having been with him. Mycroft asked me if you had forgiven me. Have you forgiven me, Sherlock?"
"You know that I forgive you. I love you, woman. I always loved you. I blame myself that I did not let you know how I felt before Mycroft came on the scene. But look at you now. You are carrying my child and I am the happiest I have ever been. Come and lie down for a while with me. I need you, Joan. And I do love you more than anyone in the whole world."
He led Joan to the bedroom and helped her lie down, lifting her tiny feet as he helped her onto the bed because she was becoming quite ungainly. Then he kicked off his shoes and trousers and lay down beside her and held her around the fullness of her belly and kissed her tenderly on her mouth.
"May I make love to you, Joan? I want to be with you in the worst way. I know that I must be considerate of your condition, but you seem to need assurance of the depth of my feelings for you."
Joan began to cry again, her emotions being more fragile than normal with the heightened hormone levels of pregnancy.
"Oh, Sherlock . . . hold me tight. I love only you . . . only you. When Mycroft asked to touch me here," she gestured to her belly, "I would not let him. I never want him to touch me again. Please hold me and tell me that you believe that I have always loved you."
Sherlock rubbed and squeezed Joan's flank and she responded to his touch and sighed gratefully. Sherlock groaned and took control of the matter of bringing both of them the release they needed so badly and when he positioned himself behind her so that their bodies could find congruence in intercourse, when they trembled and cried out in ecstasy upon reaching the summit, they knew that they belonged together.
"No more questioning what we have together, luv. Please no more questions. I love you so."
Joan gripped Sherlock's hand and kissed it, answering, "No more questions."
Sherlock drew the covers up over both of them and Joan slept, contented, but Sherlock lay awake.
That evening Sherlock sought a meeting through channels with his brother. They met on the Brooklyn promenade that very night. Sherlock sat down without looking at Mycroft.
"You went to see my wife today, Mycroft, and it upset her greatly."
"I'm sorry. I just needed to see her . . . to confirm what I had been told. In spite of what you may think, I did genuinely care for her, Sherlock."
"You from your own mouth acknowledged that I loved her more than any one and yet you took her into your bed. It escapes me . . . How that you said that you loved me as your brother and at the same time determined to take the one woman I love more than anyone and lie down with her."
"You know what they say, Sherlock, 'All's fair in love and war.' It was simply one of those things after all." There was a slight smirk in Mycroft's voice.
"You did not respect Joan or me. You used her, took advantage of her when you simply wanted her to prove a point to me."
"She will get over it, Sherlock."
"That is precisely why I still hold unspeakable resentment toward you because of this matter. I am trying to refrain from violence here because you are my brother. Also out of respect for Joan, I will refrain as well. She abhors violence. But, Mycroft, I must protect her. Especially now, she is extremely vulnerable. Do not try to contact her for any reason. In due time it may be possible to see our . . . child . . . after it is born, but for now, you must keep your distance. Do you understand me?"
"She is gloriously beautiful carrying your child, Sherlock. I must offer my best wishes to both of you. I do regret injecting myself into the relationship between you and Joan and I will try to refrain from such in the future. But you are my brother, Sherlock."
"And Joan is my wife, Mycroft. End of discussion."
Sherlock got up and walked away from his brother into the night and Mycroft sat there on the stone bench for a long time before he got up and went on his way into the night. It would be a very long time before he would see Sherlock again.
The next couple of weeks were the most difficult for Joan. She continued to become heavier as she reached the final stage of her pregnancy, but Sherlock attended to her constantly as her time drew near.
It was late in September when it happened. Joan had lain down to rest in the afternoon and she had to get up to relieve herself. As she walked across her bedroom floor, Joan felt a sudden heavy pressure and water started to stream down her legs.
"Oh, Sherlock . . ." she cried out, gripping her belly.
George, their trusty Lab, was instantly alert at the sound of her outcry and came to her to check her out.
"Get Sherlock, George!"
The dog went to the office area and pulled on Sherlock who was working there. Sherlock jumped up from working at his computer to come to her. His heart seemed to come into his mouth when he saw the look on her face.
"Joan!"
"My water broke, Sherlock. The baby . . . Is coming."
Suddenly Joan felt the first pain and staggered forward to Sherlock who caught her, picked her up in his arms and carried her back to their bed.
Sherlock quickly dialed 911 for help and then turned his attention back to Joan, who was already having another contraction.
"They are coming too fast . . . the pains. Oh, Sherlock, I feel my baby coming. Help me!"
Sherlock was in a panic, frozen to the spot for a moment.
"Get a stack of towels from the linen closet, and help me take my panties off."
Sherlock pulled off the panties that were soaked with amniotic fluid. Joan grunted in pain and gripped Sherlock's hand.
"Oh, Sherlock! I'm already having another contraction! It's been less than three minutes. The ambulance won't get here in time."
Sherlock ran for towels and when he came back, Joan was groaning in pain again. Joan accelerated into hard labor right before his eyes. She was hot and, losing all her natural modesty, threw open her robe, totally exposing her nakedness and bracing her legs to push bear down.
"Put the towels under me and hold my legs so I can push, Sherlock."
Sherlock was shaking as he got onto the bed and did as Joan directed with the towels and then, held Joan's legs up. He was desperately trying to help her and could not bear to see her in this kind of pain.
"Joan, luv, hold on! I can't do this!"
"Sherlock, you don't have to do it. It's happening. Oh, God, Sherlock, I need you to please hold my legs up."
Joan grabbed the wooden dowels in the bed's headboard and the whole bed shook as another pain struck her.
"The baby's head . . . it's in the birth canal. I'm hurting so, Sherlock."
Sherlock could see that Joan was completely dilated and then he saw the baby's head begin to stretch her open.
"I see the baby, Joan! Oh , Joan, luv! Hold on!"
"I can't! I have to push this baby out!"
Joan finally gave up and screamed out loud for the first time as the baby's head forced her pelvis to give way. It was crowning. She was bathed in sweat as she pushed and labored to give birth.
"Sherlock!" she screamed again as the baby's head pushed all the way out, followed quickly by his round little body that just plopped into Sherlock's shocked hands and began to cry.
"Oh, God! Joan, the baby . . . our baby is here. Oh, darling . . ."
"What is it, Sherlock?"
Sherlock held up the baby who was crying lustily now so that Joan could see his fat little penis.
"We have a son, Joan, a beautiful little boy! Oh God, we have our son!"
Tears were streaming down Sherlock's face as he wrapped the infant in a towel and placed the baby in Joan's arms as her placenta slipped from her. It had just been a half hour since Joan went into labor.
George began to bark as he heard the EMS knocking at the door and Sherlock bent to kiss Joan tenderly.
"Woman, you just about scared the crap out of me, do you realize that?"
Joan smiled weakly, but triumphantly as she held her baby to her breast. When he smacked his tiny lips, she gave him her breast and he nursed without hesitation.
Sherlock went to let the EMS people in.
"You people are just a bit late," he stated in his typical manner and then promptly passed out.
One of the attendants immediately began to try to bring him around and the other two went to assist Joan. Sherlock quickly came around and struggled to his feet and back to Joan's bed where the EMS technicians were cutting the umbilical cord and finishing things with Joan.
"You both done great, sir. You have a fine baby boy there and your wife weathered it well. We want to take her to hospital and get mother and baby checked out and you need to be checked out as well. You will all be home tomorrow, barring anything unforeseen. That is just a precautionary measure."
On the way to the hospital Sherlock sat in wonder watching Joan holding their son. Joan smiled up at him and kissed the top of their infant's head.
Later Sherlock sat in Joan's hospital room at her bedside and waited for their little one to be brought back to them. They were both exhausted by the experience of the day but at the same time elated beyond measure.
Joan had dark circles under her eyes after her birthing ordeal, but she was as beautiful in Sherlock's eyes as she had ever been. She was trying to braid her long hair but just did not have the energy to do it so Sherlock helped her just twist her long hair together.
"I know I look a mess, Sherlock."
"I beg to differ with you, luv. I would never have imagined that you would have to deliver yourself. You are amazing. Seeing you push our baby out like that . . . I think I have never seen anything so frightening and yet so beautiful."
"You helped me, Sherlock. When the baby started coming, I was powerless to hold him back. I'm sorry to have frightened you so."
When the nurse came and placed their son in Joan's arms, they opened the blue receiving blanket and carefully examined him, checking each of his tiny toes and fingers. He had weighed in at a very healthy seven pounds, ten ounces. His blue eyes followed them and he gripped his father's finger tightly. His hair was a dark auburn thatch like Sherlock's. There was a lot of it and there was a dusting of tiny freckles on his round little belly.
"Ryland Watson Holmes," Sherlock said, calling him the name they had chosen in the event they had a boy child.
When the infant began to fret, Joan took him to her breast and he began to nurse, and, at that point Sherlock broke down in tears of joy, holding Joan's hand, his head resting on the bed next to her. Joan reached for him, running her fingers through his hair as he wept silently.
"I have been such a wretched man, Joan. I have believed nothing, had no faith in God or man, but here I am with this beautiful gift of my own issue. If there is a higher power, I do thank him for you, my wife, and my son with all that I am."
He caught Joan's hand and kissed the back of her hand and then caught her palm to his lips and kissed it.
The birth of little Ryland had added another dimension to Sherlock and Joan's lives. Sherlock was ever the attentive father, sharing all the daddy duties and generally he was the one who could be seen walking along holding Joan's hand and carrying little Ryland in a sling in front of him.
Joan bounced back rapidly from the precipitous labor and childbirth she had experienced. Her obstetrician warned her that although Joan obviously was a woman gifted with the capacity to carry and give birth easily, that she was also in that small percentage of women who give birth very quickly after the onset of labor and should have that in mind in the event of future pregnancies. And Joan was thrilled with motherhood. She was gifted also with a fine flow of rich milk and enjoyed nursing and nurturing her son more than she would have ever imagined.
Sherlock was overjoyed with the whole experience as this new phase of their life together began. It seemed that everything was falling in place for him and Joan. Family life agreed with him in every way. Sherlock's own father came to visit again when little Ryland was just a month old and rejoiced to hold his first grandson in his arms.
Little Ryland became the center of their parents lives. Joan had wanted to carry for Sherlock first of all to atone for her dalliance with Mycroft. It was the age old way a woman proved her love for a man when it had come into question. But what she could not have foreseen was the joy and fulfillment she would receive from pregnancy and childbirth. And also the effect the whole experience would have on Sherlock was something that neither of them could have anticipated. He had come into his own completely as a man when he married Joan and now, becoming a father had taken his manhood to another level. And he would go on to solve some of his most difficult cases during this period of his life.
Joan retreated from working along with him in the field, but she was to remain his constant partner and collaborator otherwise. She was his peer, his muse actually.