Don't Leave Me This Way Chapter 4
By phaedraphelan
Summary: Sherlock and Joan continue to forge the bond between them in ways they could not have imagined. Serious Joanlock continues. Please feel free to review.
Disclaimer: Elementary is the artistic property of CBS and no infringement is intended.
As the third trimester of her pregnancy got underway, Joan felt very good physically. Her pregnant state was obvious to everyone now, and Sherlock was fascinated as he watched her belly continue to swell with the greatest interest. He lay beside her each night, his sensitive fingers exploring every inch of her, taking delight in every kick of their baby, becoming more and more concerned with Joan's safety as he saw her body taken over by her pregnant state. He took great delight in rubbing her belly all over with a special lotion he had made from queen bee jelly to prevent stretch marks as she stretched to accommodate her special load.
"Sherlock, you make me feel so good when you massage my belly like this," Joan sighed as his hands moved down to massage her legs and ankles and finally her tiny feet.
"I love to do this. I know that carrying the extra weight in your belly is stressful on your body, even though it is very beautiful. I just can't resist touching you."
Joan blushed, still unable to easily receive Sherlock's complements when they were not in the throes of ecstasy.
"Accept it, luv. You are altogether lovely. Your sleek slender figure has become so lush and full, as if you are a rose blooming, your breasts swelling and drooping like lovely teardrops as they prepare for your wee one."
Sherlock kissed her dainty arches of her feet with his lips and then continued up her legs to her knees and then to her thighs and to the glorious forest that decorated her intimate parts.
"Your hair is growing especially luxuriantly, Joanie. I love it. You know that."
Joan knew it and left the area that he loved unattended. Her hair on her head had grown nearly six inches longer during pregnancy, thick and glossy far beyond its normal healthy beauty so that it hung to Joan's waist now and Sherlock loved nothing more than to waken with her ebony tresses spread all over his chest.
Joan now welcomed him sexually, gladly accepting all of his ardent blandishments as they both became more and more excited till they came together in intercourse. Joan gladly accepted him inside her, moaning and sighing his name as he carefully arranged himself over her so as not to put pressure on her growing belly and swollen breasts.
"Joan . . . Joan, I love you so," Sherlock whispered as he penetrated her completely, plumbing to the very deepest of her parts, finding it easy now to vocalize his feelings for her in moments like this. "Let me tell you . . . I need to tell you . . . my need for you eclipses everything else. I look into your eyes and I see all the mysteries of the universe hidden there. I will search forever to solve those and yet I know I will never find the answers to all the questions in my heart."
It was a Sunday morning and Sherlock and Joan planned to do nothing except indulge themselves in each other to the greatest degree possible as they lingered in their marriage bed. Sherlock was as always rejuvenated by sexual activity and left Joan sleeping to recover from their sensual exertions. Sherlock showered and dressed in casual sweats and a tee shirt and went to attend to his bees up on the roof.
Sitting on the roof in the late morning sunshine, he reflected on where he and Joan now found themselves as man and wife. He had always prided himself in that he had never really belonged to anyone, and yet now he so completely belonged to Joan and he was stunned at how satisfying it was to his psyche.
How could we not have known this for so long? I knew the sexual attraction was there from the start, but I had considered that it would be a mere dalliance, a fling, a passing fancy, and nothing more than that. Dear God, how wrong I was! And how close I came to losing all that is important in life to me? I need her like I need the air I breathe. I cannot comprehend the depth of my love for her. And yet I do not fear this. All my sexual urges are centered and focused in her, in this one woman who sleeps with me every night of my life now. And I don't even know why she loves me. How can I possibly deserve such a gift in my life? All I know is that when she touches me, I become lost in a passionate vortex the likes of which I had never imagined.
When she picked me up from that filthy subway tunnel, high on drugs, nearly overdosed, I was such a wreck of a man, puking and pissing and stinking from my own mess on myself, crying like a wee one in her arms. The one thing I remember more than anything about that day is Joan holding me and soothing me the way that she did.
Sherlock's eyes filled suddenly as he remembered how near he had come to losing his life that day, to ending up like Oscar's sister Olivia, dead and rotting in that tunnel, and he shuddered uncontrollably as a sob caught in his throat.
The strains of Sinatra singing floated up to the roof from his neighbor's brownstone. He was singing "How Deep Is the Ocean?" and in that moment Sherlock was taken with how apropos the words of the Irving Berlin standard were in his case as he gazed at the waters of the East River from his own rooftop.
How much do I love you? I'll tell you no lie. How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky?
How many times in a day do I think of you? How many roses are covered with dew?
How far would I travel to be where you are? How far is the journey from here to a star?
And if I ever lost you, how much would I cry? How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky?
Sherlock gave way to tears and crossed his legs to counter the mixture of thankfulness and desire for Joan that surged through the deepest part of him. He knew her so well now, how she would respond sleepily if he came to her to calm his passions again, how she would smile that smile that was only shown to him, and open her arms to him and gladly calm the powerful carnal urges that overwhelmed him at times and give him peace in his flesh again. No woman of all of the many women Sherlock had been with in his life had been able to calm his passions so completely as Joan and this included Irene.
Sherlock finally went down to make a late breakfast and bring it to Joan in bed. She was delighted with breakfast as she was constantly hungry these days because of the pregnancy. There was fresh fruit and scrambled eggs and toast and a pot of tea on the tray along with a folded note from Sherlock.
"Should I read the note first, Sherlock?"
"No, because I want you to eat this food without being . . . distracted, luv."
Joan smiled and obediently ate along with Sherlock. He still loved to bring her breakfast in bed and did it several times every week.
"You always liked to bring me breakfast in bed, baby."
"Do you know why, Joan?"
Joan looked at him wide-eyed, waiting for him to continue.
"I admit that I always had designs on you. Bringing you breakfast in bed was just one way I could express my feelings. Just coming into your bedroom or going into your closet to select your clothes for the day gave me such a sensory overload and fed all sorts of dreams, luv. I never had lived with a woman, and you had no idea how fascinating the whole experience was to me. And it continues to be a constantly unfolding mystery."
Joan smiled. "I was hoping that was what you would say."
"Now you may read your note, my dearest Joan," Sherlock said with a shy smile.
Joan unfolded the note and as she read it, she blushed all the way down to her nearly bare breasts. The graphic description of what was on his mind was typical of the things that Sherlock loved to whisper in her ear in private moments, but seeing the words on a piece of paper had a profound effect on her.
Joan pressed the note to her lips and then put it down on the breakfast tray and set it aside on the dresser near their bed. Then she turned her attention to Sherlock, slipped his tee shirt and sweat pants off him and gave all her energy to pleasuring him for the rest of the morning. They thoroughly enjoyed making love in the morning in broad daylight with the sun shining in through their bedroom window on them. By the time they had satisfied themselves, the sun had passed over the brownstone so that their bed was in the shadows as they slept in each others arms into the early afternoon.
Captain Gregson called them in late afternoon asking for help on a case and Sherlock was instantly ready, but Joan was still under the effect of the sensual afternoon they had passed.
"Um, Sherlock, I am still woozy from being with you. Do you want to go along to the case?"
Sherlock smiled tenderly at his wife, who lay in their bed with the sheet just barely covering her beautifully pregnant body, her eyes still showing that dreamy character that was a reminder of the passionate moments they had shared and it was all that he could do to refrain from getting back into bed with her.
"Not a problem. Actually I have been thinking that you should stay away from active crime scenes till you have the baby. I believe it to be much too risky for you now," Sherlock said as he bent to kiss her lips gently but thoroughly.
Joan wanted to protest, but she knew that what he said was true. The work they did was fraught with dangers, dangers that she wanted to protect her baby from at all costs. She thought of how Sherlock would be affected if she were hurt or lost the baby and she knew that she could not take that chance. He was much too fragile to withstand anything like that.
"You are probably right, Sherlock."
Joan's hands clasped her evident midsection as she realized how her priorities had changed with pregnancy. Sherlock kissed her tenderly on her forehead before dressing quickly and going to meet Gregson and Marcus.
In the next couple months Joan confined her work to analysis and processing of evidence from the brownstone and stayed away from crime scenes. They both realized this to be the course of wisdom, and even more so as Joan rapidly became heavier in her final trimester.
Joan was so full by the end of her eighth month that her breasts were swollen to triple their normal size and her navel ruptured and turned outward and Sherlock constantly just stared at her in wonder in her gravid state, as the results of their sexual liaison became fully evident. Sherlock became very concerned about her personal safety, especially since she was hardly able to defend herself with single stick in her condition. He especially was concerned about the security of the brownstone and had sat down to talk with Gregson about it.
"I am in a quandary, Tommy. I am so concerned with keeping my Joan safe while she is so pregnant."
"Yes, you did quite a job on your lady, Sherlock. She looks quite . . . healthy, I guess I should say. I am truly happy for both of you. Joan looks content and that speaks to your care and concern for her. You are obviously good for each other."
Sherlock was in an extremely restless mode with his knees jumping in that nervous manner of his.
"I just want to protect her. I never felt the need to protect anyone as I am experiencing now."
"Sherlock, had you thought about getting a dog? Stats show that to be one sure fire way to protect your household. A German shepherd well-trained is one of the safest ways to handle that problem."
Sherlock left the precinct and went by an animal rescue location that was nearby to see what was available. There was one shepherd mix that was a year old. He came to the side of his cage to sniff at Sherlock and slowly wagged his tail. Then he just lay down against the side of the cage that was close to Sherlock.
"He just came in today. He was a candidate to be a seeing-eye dog, but his handler was killed in a car accident and he went into such a funk that it was impossible to keep him in the program," the young veterinary apprentice said. "If you want an excellent family pet and protector, this is an excellent selection."
"My wife and I are expecting our first child any day now and this dog must be gentle with children."
After being assured that this would be the best choice, Sherlock filled out the necessary paperwork and took the dog, named George, home with him. He immediately bonded with both Sherlock and Joan and ensconced himself in his own doggie bed at a vantage point on the landing between the first and parlor floor.
It was at this point that Sherlock's father made an unannounced visit. It was a Friday evening in late August when Joan, much to her surprise, opened the door to reveal the elder Holmes, who was no less surprised to see his son's wife in a very advanced state of pregnancy. Joan was wearing just shorts and a large tee shirt stretched over her huge belly, her now swollen breasts dripping and causing damp spots on her olive colored tee shirt. Her long shining hair now hung to her waist and she positively glowed radiantly in her very pregnant state.
"Jove! Lass, you are with child!" Sherlock' father exclaimed at the sight of Joan and spontaneously bent to hug her.
"Sherlock, it's your father!" Joan called out and Sherlock came immediately, just in time to see his father hug Joan.
"Come in, father. This is an unexpected surprise," Sherlock said, as he ushered his father into the parlor.
"Well, I must say that you two have given me the ultimate surprise. My dear Joan, you are gloriously pregnant! Sherlock, my boy, you have done our family proud!"
Sherlock found himself flushing before his father. He was thrilled to be fathering a son, but unprepared for his father's praise after so many years of his disapproval.
"Please let me make tea. Come into the parlor," Joan said, welcoming her father-in-law into their home.
Shortly they were sitting, having a cup of tea together.
"Joan, you make an excellent cup of tea . . . excellent."
"I have had a good teacher, sir," Joan said with a smile.
The elder Holmes sat gazing with pride at Sherlock and Joan who sat side by side on the sofa. It was the first time he had had opportunity to observe the attachment between the two and it obviously pleased him.
"Joan is carrying a male child, father. You will have your grandson, God willing."
"Son, may I touch my grandson? Joan, dear, will you permit me?"
Joan was sitting on the sofa, a literal prisoner of her belly these days and she just nodded to Sherlock's father and pulled up her tee shirt so that he could see and touch her bare belly. When he hesitated, Joan reached for his hands and placed them on her shining belly. At that moment, the baby moved and kicked on her side, the imprint of a tiny foot making its presence known. Joan moved her father-in-law's hand to where his grandson was kicking inside her and his eyes filled with tears. He bent forward and kissed Joan's belly gently before sitting back.
Then he stood to go, unable to handle emotionally the moments that had passed between the three of them.
"I must go, Sherlock. Son . . . I . . . don't know what to say except that I am so very proud to call you my son."
He hugged Sherlock tightly and Sherlock hugged him back before he left to go back to his hotel.
Sherlock turned and knelt down before Joan and took her hands in his and kissed her on her hands and then embraced her swollen belly and kissed it over and over as he knelt between her knees.
"Joan, you gave me the gift of my own father. I never saw or felt what I felt from him this afternoon, just pure approval with no disclaimer, no negative word. Thank you, luv," Sherlock said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Sherlock helped Joan to her feet and bent to kiss her on her mouth.
"Joan, please come and lie down with me. I am so overwhelmed with need to make love to you at this moment."
He led Joan to their bedroom and they lay down together and Sherlock buried his face in her long hair and lay against Joan's back so that they could connect in the only way that was possible these days. She was so tumescent that no preparation was needed for her to easily accept him as they gave themselves to each other without restraint till Joan was trembling and fluttering, crying out to Sherlock when her release and surrender came.
"Take it easy. Let me do the work, luv. Take it easy, Joanie."
"Sherlock . . . Baby, I know. Please help me! I do love you so much."
"Lord, Joan . . . Oh, Lord!"
Sherlock's arms simply embraced Joan as his pelvis went into the spasms that would deliver his life force in spurt after spurt, leaving them both out of their heads in ecstasy, sweating in the summer evening's heat. As their bodies cooled, Sherlock drew the bed sheet up over them and cooed softly to her as they still lay spooning together.
Sherlock's father immediately made arrangements for some improvements to the brownstone in view of the impending birth of his grandson. He had his architect send plans for Sherlock's approval which included an additional bathroom that would make Sherlock's room into a master suite with a nursery on the first floor and make improvements to the upstairs bathroom and in other areas of the house.
Within the month after the visit of Sherlock's father the improvements in the brownstone had been completed and the master bedroom and nursery had been completed as well as the other work. All fitted in with the style of the old house and only served to enhance its charm.
It was early September as Joan went into the final month of her pregnancy. Sherlock was afraid to leave her alone so he took time off from consulting, with Tommy Gregson's blessing, to await the birth of a new baby and assembled a stack of cold cases to occupy his mind while waiting for Joan's due date.
Joan began to suffer severe leg cramps in her last months and Sherlock spent many nights rubbing her legs, seeking to give her relief. They had retired to the upper floor for two weeks while the architects made the needed renovations in the house. This meant that they used Joan's former bedroom and its proximity to the bathroom was critical as Joan needed to relieve herself nearly every hour and Sherlock felt better with her not having to negotiate the steps every time. Now that the renovations were completed they moved down to the master bedroom suite to await the impending birth.
Sherlock and Joan went to used furniture stores till they found an antique baby bed and nursing rocker for the nursery. Joan then decorated the nursery with the blue and yellow fittings that Mrs. Hudson and her mother had given her and the effect was altogether charming.
Joan's friends were thrilled to see Joan so happily pregnant and they finally began to see why she loved Sherlock so much. They had arranged a shower for her and had also given her baby clothes and all sorts of necessary and unnecessary things.
"Joan, you are unbelievable! You sneaked and married Sherlock and then you went and got pregnant too! By the way, you look fabulous even though you are huge. Hope you don't get those stretch marks," Fran commented on Joan's radiant state as she, Emily and Fran shared a luncheon together.
"Well, Sherlock makes this lotion from bee pollen that he rubs my belly with every night. He swears that it will prevent stretch marks."
"So your man rubs your belly every night?" Emily stated mostly as a question.
Joan blushed, long lashes fluttering, as she recalled Sherlock's tender ministrations.
"He is very attentive . . . in every way . . . every way."
"Well, that answers one question. Joan, you have to tell us about your lover one of these days. You just don't want to tell us. We know that he must be amazing to have fixed you up like this. You were never one to settle for second rate of anything," Emily said.
"No, he is not second rate in any sense of the word. Sometimes we go at it all day and all night," Joan dropped the comment slyly. "There is no limit when it comes to Sherlock . . . no limit. And that is all I am going to say on that score. Which reminds me, I really have enjoyed being with you girls but I need to get home. And I have to save some energy for Sherlock. Seeing me like this makes him absolutely insatiable."
Emily and Fran exchanged knowing glances and raised eyebrows as they helped Joan pull herself up from her chair and then put her in a taxi to go home to her man.
When Joan arrived back at the brownstone, Sherlock was sitting at the stoop with George waiting for her so that he could help her up the steps and into the house. Seeing her with her huge belly in her bright red blouson maternity top and black tights was extremely stimulating to him. Her shining long hair was pulled up into a pony tail and she was so positively radiant that Sherlock caught his breath at the sight of her on this Saturday afternoon.
Sherlock was in awe of what had happened to Joan as her body prepared to give and yet he was fearful too, even though Joan continually reminded him that women her size were responsible for giving birth to a quarter of the earth's population. Still as her belly became so large that she could hardly walk, he became increasingly anxious for her.
Now as Sherlock helped Joan into the house and into the parlor he was even more aware of her need for his protection at this time. He had never seen her more vulnerable. George wagged his tail happily as he followed them into the brownstone and then left them to their own devices.
"Joan, luv, I missed you when you were with your friends. I am so used to being with you constantly these days." Sherlock said as he bent to kiss her on her cheek as his hand gently rubbed her belly. "Umm, you are gorgeous today."
Joan smiled contentedly at him in that mysterious way he knew so well.
"I told the girls that I had to save some energy for you," she said as she pulled up her top so that Sherlock could touch her bare skin.
Sherlock knew that Joan needed him and he picked her up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom and laid her on their bed and, as he lay down facing her, he smoothed her hair back from her face and began to kiss her mouth, at first gently and then more and more passionately.
"I will do whatever you want me to do, luv. I just don't want to harm you or our wee one in any way. You tend to get so excited, luv. And you know that I am totally carried away with you."
"Just take your clothes off and help me take mine off and lie next to me. I need you close to me, Sherlock."
Sherlock stood up and slipped his shirt and trousers off and then he helped Joan undress and then lay down next to her, kissing her all over her belly and her swollen breasts as Joan sighed and sighed. All the while Sherlock and Joan felt themselves flushing deeply as desire surged powerfully in both of them.
"I see you and I see all that is ripe and fertile in the universe in the fullness of your belly. Are you as satisfied as you seem to be, luv?"
"Yes, Sherlock, I feel so full and complete with your baby inside of me. I cannot describe to you how happy I am to be carrying for you."
Sherlock continued to kiss Joan's mouth passionately, alternately tasting the inside of her mouth and then nipping her lips gently till she reached to touch him intimately, causing him to moan softly.
"Let me take care of you. You need me to take care of this, Sherlock."
"Luv . . . Luv," Sherlock whispered as he turned her so that he could lie against her back and enter her without putting pressure on her belly. "Dear God . . . Joan . . ."
Joan trembled and shook as her body welcomed his. Sherlock whispered to her words of love in her ear to calm her but Joan was softly wailing his name, her hands gripping his as they moved in rhythm together.
"Don't hold back . . . please don't hold back. Just love me . . . love me, Sherlock. I'm having your baby soon. Ooh, Sherlock! Hold me!"
"Yes, you are. Do you know how proud I am . . . when I walk with you are you are so-so full like this, how proud I am for everyone to know that you . . . you chose me?" Sherlock's voice caught in his throat as he felt such ecstasy that he could no longer speak a lucid thought. "Oh dear God! God! Joan, luv! I'm in ecstasy!"
As his pelvis began to jerk, Sherlock saw stars and cried out in rapture as he held his woman's hips tightly joined to him.
"Sherlock! Sherlock! Yes!" Joan cried his name again as her body surrendered to his in the same way it had so many times before, her capitulation complete.
And Sherlock held her close whispering soft endearments into her ear as Joan floated and then gradually fell asleep in his embrace.
Joan's time to deliver came on a late September afternoon. She had asked Sherlock to help her up to go to relieve herself and suddenly her water broke and clear fluids began to run down her legs.
"Sherlock! The baby . . . it's coming! Get those towels for me that I put aside!"
Sherlock was nearly paralyzed with fear as he helped her back to the bed. She was already clutching her belly as the first pain came and Sherlock pushed the towels under her to catch the amniotic fluid.
Almost as soon as the first pain ended, the second one followed and that was when Joan realized that her baby was coming much faster than she had anticipated.
"Sherlock, you will have to help me. The baby is coming fast . . . faster!"
Joan was trying to squirm out of her soaking wet shorts and Sherlock was quick to aid her at the same time as he called 911 on his cell phone.
"My God, we have to get you to hospital!"
"I won't get there in time. You have to help me, baby. The contractions are too close together."
Joan naturally spread her legs as she already felt the pressure of the baby in her birth canal and she gritted her teeth, gripped her belly and knew instinctively that it was time to push.
"Please hold up my legs up for me, Sherlock."
Sherlock was frantic at this point seeing Joan lose all modesty and cry out as she succumbed to another severe labor pain as the baby's head descended so that it became visible. It was less than a half hour since the first contraction and the baby was already crowning.
"I see the baby, Joan. Oh, dear God! He's coming! Damn! Where is that ambulance?"
"Help me, Sherlock! I'm hurting so!"
"I'm so sorry, luv . . . so sorry."
Sherlock got onto the bed in front of her holding her knees up as Joan cried out in pain again as she pushed little Ryland Watson Holmes into the world into his hands.
"Oh, God, Joan, he . . . he's here!" Sherlock was crying as he lifted his son, placed him in a towel and was transfixed at the sight and sound of the squalling infant. "He's beautiful!"
Joan lay back, exhausted by the birthing process as the placenta slipped from her and Sherlock leaned forward and placed their son in her arms before kissing her gently upon her lips.
Joan proceeded to examine little Ryland from head to toe, smiling all the while and finally put him to her breast where he latched on and began to nurse contentedly.
At that moment their dog, George barked as the ambulance arrived at their door. Sherlock immediately went to let them in.
"My wife . . . has given birth. Please, she's in here."
Then Sherlock suddenly went pale and passed out cold in the arms of the EMS attendant who then worked to revive him as the other young nurse went to attend to Joan, tying off the umbilical cord and checking her vitals, before bundling her and little Ryland up to take all of them to hospital for a thorough checkup.
It was several hours later when Sherlock and Joan finally were ensconced in her hospital room with little Ryland nursing happily at her breast. Joan was exhausted from the birthing process as evidenced by the dark circles under her eyes, but thrilled to be holding her healthy baby boy in her arms.
"He is so beautiful, Sherlock. He looks just like you, except he doesn't have your blue green eyes. Eight pounds! No wonder I was so huge. I guess I did okay for an old lady."
"You were beautiful pregnant, unbelievably so."
"Well, you seemed to enjoy the pregnancy as much as I did."
"But Joan, you gave me a fright . . . seeing you give birth like that. There was nothing I could do to help you when those pains were coming."
Joan caught his hand in hers.
"You helped me, Sherlock. You were there when our beautiful little boy was born."
Sherlock leaned over and kissed Joan on her cheek and then on her lips very gently.
"You fainted, Sherlock. Are you sure you are okay?"
"I'll be fine. It's just not every day that your child is born right in front of you. I saw the most beautiful thing I have ever seen today when you pushed our son into the world."
Noticing that the little one had finished nursing, Sherlock reached and took his infant son from Joan and into his own arms and the little one snuggled close to him as he recognized the sound of his father's voice and the familiar thump of his heartbeat. Sherlock's eyes filled with tears as he looked into the eyes of his son, and then kissed the top of his little ones head. Their baby had a full head of reddish hair, he had tiny freckles on his belly, and when he opened his eyes, they were brown like Joan's.
"To think that I might have missed this, Joan, through sheer stupidity and lack of regard for my own life. You saved me and gave me the gift of our beautiful wee one."
Sherlock sobbed, unable to hold back the emotions that were overwhelming him in that moment as he held his son in his arms.