"Sherlock!" Jemima shouted cheerfully through 221B.

"What is it? I'm busy!" Sherlock shouted back from the kitchen.

"Baby needs cookie dough ice cream and apricots!" Jemima replied.

"At the same time?" Sherlock asked, wrinkling his nose at the idea.

"Yup!"

"Ask Mrs Hudson! I'm working!" He said grumpily. He went back to his microscope, analysing some evidence from a crime scene.

"Already did!" She shouted to him from her comfy spot on the sofa. "I shouted and she didn't answer!"

Sherlock sighed deeply and reluctantly dragged himself away from his microscope. "Fine."

-
Sherlock was soon back with Jemima's favourite cookie dough ice cream and some fresh apricots. His wife was lying down on the sofa, resting with her feet up and her eyes closed.

"I got them" He said, dumping them onto the coffee table and going back to his microscope.

"Thanks, but I can't reach them." She said, feebly waving her hand in the direction of the food.

"You have legs." He replied, eyes on his work.

"Sherlock!" She whined pitifully.

Sherlock sighed again and walked over to her. She looked up at him with big puppy eyes and a child's sulky pout.

"Can you feed me the ice cream?" She asked in a tiny voice.

"Surely you can do that yourself."

"I'm tired." She whined again. "I didn't sleep last night."

Sherlock have her a sideways look. "Did you have another nightmare?"

She nodded and he sighed again. Without saying anything else he went to the kitchen and grabbed a spoon before coming back and pulling up a seat next to the sofa. He prised open the lid of the ice cream and carefully fed her a mouthful.

"Yummy." She smiled at him adoringly. "Thank you."

"You know, you should wake me when you have nightmares like that. I can help you." He said, getting another spoonful.

"I'd feel bad for waking you, there's not much point in trying, I'll just have another one after I go back to sleep." She admitted.

"I don't care, just wake me. You promise?" He said, refusing to give her the spoonful until she agreed.

"I promise." She replied.

"Good." He smiled, giving her an apricot.

"These are really good." She said with a mouthful.

Sherlock didn't reply, he was zoned out, starring into nothing. Jemima watched Sherlock as he looked right at her bulging stomach with a contemplative expression on his face. She reached out a hand and wrapped it around his, which was limply hanging by his side. She stroked his palm gently with her thumb and smiled lovingly at him.

"Penny for your thoughts." She said softly.

"What do you think she'll be like?" He said, still gazing at her stomach.

"I'm really not sure, there's so many possibilities of how she could turn out and we could never say for sure." She said. "We just have to take things as they come."

"Mmm." He replied, still not totally focused.

"Also, are you properly sure that it's going to be a girl?" Jemima asked.

"Really sure." He said.

"How do you know?" She interrogated.

"Spoilers." He said smugly.

Jemima just sighed and dropped the subject. She lay back and closed her eyes for a moment, keeping hold of Sherlock's hand. She felt Sherlock move next to her and attempt to lie on the sofa with her.

"You can't get on here!" She said, swatting him away as he grinned. "I'm too fat, I'll crush you!"

"Watch me." He replied.

By some miracle, he managed to squeeze himself onto the sofa and he lay in her arms, their bodies entwined. He lay so he was facing her and reached a hand up to stroke any stray hairs from her face. His other hand was placed gently on her bump, waiting for a sign from his child.

"Over here." Jemima whispered, guiding his hand to the place where their baby was moving. Sherlock's eyes lit up with happiness and wonder as they always did when he felt the gentle fluttering.

He relaxed into her embrace and closed his eyes, contented and exhausted. He had forgotten how much sleep he'd missed over the past few days. He liked to be there when Jemima slept, so if she woke up after one of her inevitable nightmares, she be right there in his arms.

"Sherlock! Inspector Lestrade is on the phone..." Mrs Hudson said, bustling into the room and trailing off as she saw the couple fast asleep on the old sofa. She smiled warmly at them and creeped back out quietly.

"I'll tell him you're busy." She whispered.