Chapter 7

Month 1

John sat down on the couch as he and Sherlock entered the flat. They'd had their first ultrasound today, and got the due date of March 15th. They had gone in for an early ultrasound just to make sure that everything was as it should be, to listen for a heartbeat mainly. Everything looked good so far, and it was a beautiful way to start their July month.

"It's only the 8th of July and I can barely wait," Sherlock said during the cab ride home. John smiled as he grabbed Sherlock's hand and gave it a kiss.

"I know, but we're just going to have to wait."

"I know."

The cab pulled up to 221B and after paying the cabbie, Sherlock pulled his omega in for a kiss. When they got into the flat, John walked into the kitchen to find a container of homemade soup from Mrs. Hudson waiting for them on the table. He smiled at the gesture, and the fact that Mrs. Hudson knew he would want soup. He heated some up for himself before filling a bowl for Sherlock. The alpha may not eat very much, but he loved Mrs. Hudson's chicken noodle soup. When he came out to the smell of the delicious soup he couldn't help the grin that spread across his alabaster skin.

"This day keeps getting better. Now if only Lestrade would give me a really good case," he grumbled the last part.

"Sorry, love, but when you married me, you married my boredom too, even if you're an alpha."

"Well, then," he said as he wrapped his arms around John's waist from behind, "we should find something to do."

"What did you have in mind?" John asked, a small grin playing at his lips as he turned to look at Sherlock.

"We could play cluedo?"

John had to laugh, that was the biggest turnoff that he had ever witnessed. "We are not playing bloody cluedo."

"Well, we could always," he said as he leaned in, pausing to place kisses on John's neck, loving the feeling of the doctor shuddering underneath him, "go to bed early."

"Well, you know," John paused to inhale pleasure before continuing, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep very well right now."

"Oh? Well, that's not a problem."

Some hours later, Sherlock and John were laying in their bed, naked, with the window open as small drops of rain fell outside. It was an enchanting scene, and it held both their attention. They were propped up against the headboard and Sherlock had an arm around John's shoulders as he rubbed the side of the omega's stomach lovingly, while John leaned his head on Sherlock's shoulder, almost asleep. The sound of the rain as it pattered down outside was just as captivating and lulling as Sherlock's violin, when he didn't play it just to annoy John or anyone else in the room.

John stayed awake as long as he could will his body to let him, but the rain outside, Sherlock's scent and the feel of his fingers as they brushed his skin, not to mention he was worn out from a wonderful session of lovemaking, he fell into a deep slumber.

When Sherlock felt John's breathing slow to a steady pace, he gently moved them both down in the bed so that they were laying down, the last thing John would need when he woke up was a sore back since he would get plenty of those once the baby grew. He positioned himself so that John's head was laying comfortably on his shoulder and the duvet was pulled up around the two of them to keep them warm.

John woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going ballistic, letting him know that he had to work today. He groaned as he sat up and stretched his muscular limbs, careful not to disturb Sherlock, who didn't even moved at the horrendous beeping.

He showered, shaved, got dressed and went out to make some breakfast and tea, making enough tea for two since Sherlock would be up by the time it was finished, as always. He waited until the kettle screamed and poured the two cups just as Sherlock walked out, hair disheveled, wearing only pajama bottoms.

"Tea," John said as he held the cup out towards his husband. He didn't even have to listen or look up to know he was there, it was just routine to them now.

"Thanks," Sherlock yawned. He walked up to John and placed his head on his shoulder tiredly. He could have fallen asleep right there standing up if John hadn't gently nudged him off. "Come back to bed."

"Sorry, love, I can't. Got to go to work today, and before you tell me to call in sick, I can't because we're short and I'm needed.

"You're needed here too. Think of how bored I'll be without you."

"Maybe Lestrade will give you a case. If not, go to your mind palace, it will seem like ten seconds before I'm back. Don't get me wrong, I would love to stay home and entertain you, but we all have to make sacrifices, love."

"It's not fair," Sherlock pouted, his voice muffled in the fabric of John's shirt. John rolled his eyes and kissed the alpha's temple.

"I've got to get going. See you tonight, love."

"If you really must go, I'll see you after you get back. Love you," he said before giving John a proper kiss that made him seriously think about calling in to work, but he knew he couldn't, and Sherlock would just have to wait until he got home.

Sherlock watched as John climbed into the taxi, and continued to watch until it was out of his field of vision. He sighed as he told himself that John would be fine on his own. He walked over to his chair and sat down, he didn't have a case to think about or any friends he could, or would, go see. He sat there for a few moments before deciding to re, so he got up and grabbed the nearest book. It was one of John's favorites, The Hobbit. Sherlock constantly told John that such literature was nonsense, but it reminded him of John and it would give him something to do. As he opened the book and the smell of literature sprang at his nose he found himself a tad curious about the whole plot. Hobbits, dwarves, wizards and dragons, he hadn't read such things since he was a boy and had wanted to be a pirate.

In a hole in the ground, there live a hobbit.

Some hours later, John walked into the flat to find Sherlock reading the last book in the Lord Of the Rings series. He blinked a few times as if to make sure what he was seeing was real, and when he realized it was, he allowed himself a small victorious smirk.

"I thought you said those books were nonsense."

"They are, but they're brilliantly-written, imaginative, captivating pieces of nonsense."

"Ah, I see," John said as he walked over and sat on Sherlock's lap. Sherlock put the book down and looked up at John, who leaned in and kissed him.

"How was work?"

"Boring, of course."

"Well, I tried to warn you. Maybe you should listen to me more often."

"I do listen to you. It's you who doesn't listen to me."

"Touche."

John chuckled a little and placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's lips. "I'm going to go sleep for a bit. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure."

The two of them walked to the bedroom, making it to the door before Sherlock bound back into the living room to get his book. They stripped down to the pants and crawled into bed, John snuggling into Sherlock's one arm embrace. A kiss was planted to the top of his head as the pads of Sherlock's fingers brushed over his arm lightly, pulling him out of consciousness and into slumber within minutes.

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