Hope you like! As before, meant to be heartfelt but funny as well.
Alex breathed deeply and rhythmically as she waited for the next contraction. Sherlock seemed to be breathing in time with her and was switching his focus from between her legs to her face.
"Are you okay?" Sherlock asked concernedly.
"Oh, I'm just brilliant!" Alex snarled through gritted teeth. She hated being so rude to Sherlock but she knew that the man would forgive her, given that he had been rude several times throughout their friendship as well as the fact that Alex was in rather acute pain.
"Right, um, the baby is moving down your birth canal a little, so I'd say the next contraction is imminent," Sherlock explained.
"God, Sherlock, why can't you just say 'vagina' like everyone else? Oh, fucking hell!" Alex screamed as the contraction took hold. Sherlock's face morphed from mild shock to concern as he bent down so that he could take hold of the baby's head when it came.
"It's almost here. Push, Alex, push!"
"I am bloody pushing! Arghhhh!"
"Good, good, well done. The baby's head is coming. Keep pushing, Alex."
Alex strained and stretched her neck back as far as possible, pushing with all her might. Sweat broke out from every pore and she felt Sherlock's fingers at her vulva, forming a small circular shape as her baby's head began to emerge. Sherlock closed his fingertips around the cranium, firmly yet gently holding the head and guiding it out.
"The head's here, the head's out, Alex! Just the rest to follow. At the next contraction, push hard!" Sherlock seemed to have taken on the role of 'midwife' rather well, remembering and expertly applying the knowledge that he had obtained from a few websites over the space of about a minute. Alex knew that he was an expert speed-reader and a very fast learner. She honestly thought that there was nothing the man could not do. As cold as he usually was, he was being remarkably sensitive at this moment. Sure, Alex sensed that he was applying the delivery methods as he did with his cases but, because Alex was his close friend, he was certain to feel a level of sympathy and a sense of duty to help her when she needed it, even if it meant becoming more physically intimate than they had ever been before.
As soon as the next contraction came, Alex felt herself open even wider than before and the pain doubled in intensity as the baby's shoulders were squeezed out.
Within seconds, the baby's body almost fell out and was caught by the Consulting Detective. The relief from the pain was instant and Alex revelled in it, relaxing on the bed with a sigh and several deep breaths.
"It's a boy," Sherlock said, sounding a little surprised.
"I know. Is he okay?" Alex asked quickly. Sherlock didn't look at her. His eyes were fixed on the squirming baby who was beginning to cry in his arms. A smile spread across his face as he cradled the new born.
"Sherlock? Can I hold my son, please?"
"Mmm? Oh, oh, yes, um, I just need to, err, cut the cord and wash him off."
Alex really wanted to hold and touch her new baby, wishing that Jo could be there to share the joy. Tears rolled down her face and she couldn't take her eyes off her beautiful son.
Sherlock spread the lace blanket he had found earlier on the bed and placed the baby boy on it. He 'shushed' the child as it cried desperately and washed him off with a damp cloth.
The cord had stopped pulsing and Sherlock was sure to clamp it at the right place before cutting it. He had also brought a nappy from the nursery and, somehow, managed to put the baby in it without making a mistake. Alex wondered if he had done it before. She also wondered if his brother Mycroft had cared for him as a baby. There was a seven-year age gap between the two men, after all.
"Oh, Sherlock, I think you've got 'the touch'!" Alex said with a touch of sarcasm, which was met with an annoyed, yet light-hearted glare from the Detective.
"It's only practical. I'm sure you don't want your baby to be covered in… this stuff."
Alex had to agree. Then, something else occurred to her.
"The placenta!"
"That's the reason I placed a towel underneath you. I'll remove it in a minute."
Sherlock dried the water residue from the boy's tiny body before wrapping him warmly in the large lace sheet as Alex held out her arms impatiently. Sherlock leaned over to hand Alex her son. She held him protectively, yet delicately, instantly welling up again with the sheer emotion of it all.
She stroked her baby's little pink face, mesmerised by the softness of his skin. Sherlock made quick work of taking the placenta away and placing it in the adjacent bathroom.
When Sherlock came back, Alex was no longer looking at her baby, but at the Consulting Detective as he used the rest of the warm water to wash off his hands and arms. He gawped at Alex when he saw her staring.
"What?"
"Thank you. Thank you so much. I know this wasn't easy for you."
Sherlock chuckled awkwardly, not knowing how to respond.
"I mean it. I'm very grateful and very impressed. Here," Alex said, patting the empty space beside her. Sherlock hesitated.
"Please. Sit with me."
Sherlock still stared. "Um, I need to use, er, soap and water, the stuff's not coming off," he said quickly, making a beeline for the door and disappearing into the bathroom. Alex contemplated calling for him but decided that raising her voice in desperation wouldn't be good for her baby.
Sobbing a little, she realised that the baby boy would need feeding. Cradling him with her left arm, she lowered the arm of her dress and her bra strap so that she could breast-feed.
Sherlock was in the bathroom for five minutes before he came back. His cheeks looked a little flushed and Alex could tell that he was trying to switch back into 'machine' mode. Had it worked? Alex wasn't sure.
Sherlock stood, glaring, once he realised that Alex was breast-feeding and was not certain what to do.
"You've seen it all, Sherlock. I don't mind, really."
Sherlock had to agree. He had seen plenty of naked corpses and multiple bodily injuries, as well as Alex's lower region.
"I wonder when Jo and John will be here. She'll be so upset that she's missed the birth of our son."
The Detective stood at the foot of the bed, secretly liking the image of Alex with her baby. It reminded him of the beautiful painting of Madonna and Child.
"Please come here, Sherlock," Alex pleaded. That time, Sherlock acquiesced and climbed onto the bed, leaning in close to Alex's left.
He touched the baby's soft head, which had wispy strands of brown, baby-soft hair.
"Thank you," Alex repeated.
"Don't mention it," Sherlock returned with a smirk.
"Are you bored?" Alex asked.
"Mmm, a little."
"Sorry."
"It's fine," Sherlock said, retrieving his phone. "I'll just play solitaire while we wait for the others."
It seemed as if Sherlock had spoken too soon, as the doorbell rang just as he started a game.
"It'll be Maria. Jo has a key," Alex told him.
Sherlock dismounted the bed with a groan, hating being the one to have to carry out such a mediocre task as answering the door to someone. However, he was a little happy that Alex would be in the hands of someone who was paid to look after expectant and new mothers.
Maria had obviously pushed past Sherlock as Alex heard him huffing in the hallway. The midwife ascended the stairs at a gazelle's pace and bustled into the room so quickly that it made Alex jump. Her son was also startled when she jolted, unlatching his little mouth from her breast and starting to cry again.
"Okay, give me that baby," Maria said, not seeming to care that she had caused a commotion. She reached for the baby harshly and tried to pry him from Alex's arms. Alex instinctively pulled back, suddenly not liking Maria's presence, even though she had hoped for her arrival during the labour.
"What are you doing? I need to check him," Maria said, slapping her thighs.
"No, you don't," Sherlock chimed. He entered the room coolly, adopting his undisputed authoritative tone, "you need to check the mother first. I read up on childbirth and I know that the mother's welfare comes first."
"Are you a midwife? Are you a doctor? No, so butt out and let me do my job. Give me that baby."
"No!" Alex cried, trying to edge over the bed away from her.
Maria ignored her and tried to reach for the baby again. Maria's hand was about to grasp Alex's son's back when a strong hand wrapped around Maria's wrist. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"Keeping the baby – and my friend – out of harm's way. You're not fit to be a midwife and you've clearly neglected your professional obligations. On the way here you had a cigarette and have tried to disguise the odour with chewing gum and a cheap imitation of Chanel No.5, quite poorly, I'm afraid. You've got uneaten pizza to get back home to, which is why you are eager to finish your work here and, judging by the dent on your car, which is fresh, you had a minor accident on the way here… and didn't stop. You have no concern for Alex or her son and the fact that your ear piercing is at the early stages of infection shows that you take personal hygiene with a pinch of salt. Keep your hands off the baby and away from his mother."
Alex had never known Sherlock to be so protective of her and was amazed that he had once again shown great humanity. He had also kept his voice as low as possible so not to scare the baby. Alex owed him so much and she felt like crying again.
"Get out," Alex demanded, keeping her voice low as quiet as she could. Maria stared at them both, startled.
"You heard her. This is her house; please leave."
Maria continued to stand and stare.
"But… they both need to be checked…"
"We'll get another midwife, thank you, or we'll take Alex to the hospital. Now, leave this house," Sherlock warned, his eyes spitting venom.
Maria finally got the message and left, slamming the door on her way out.
