Sherlock walked into Joan's room, turning to close the door as he stepped inside, before turning to face her. She was dressed in the same white dress as earlier, and was laying out a beautiful midnight-blue gown on the bed, next to a pair of elegant black heels, which she had matched with a black clutch bag. She was putting some diamond earrings in when he walked in, and she smiled nervously at him before speaking.
"Everything okay, Sherlock? We really need to get a move on, the cab is booked for half seven." She stated simply, smiling slightly as he returned her stare.
"Watson, are you quite alright?" he asked, apparently ignoring her previous statement. He watched her for several moments, as she continued to get ready for the evening whilst avoiding his glance. She removed her hand slowly from her ear and ran her fingers down the dress on the bed, before looking up towards him once more.
"Of course. Is something wrong?" she asked, swallowing hard. She knew she needed to tell him, and she would, but after dinner. She wanted them to have something to enjoy and celebrate, a focus on the future, before revealing the new danger which they both faced. But by the look on Sherlock's face and her certainty that she would no longer be able to hide the issue, she became doubtful that any more delays would be possible.
"Watson, it is quite clear that-" Sherlock was interrupted by the sound of the front door being swung open, and a loud, familiar voice filling the hallway.
"Hello! Sherlock? Joan? Are you guys still here?" It was Miss Hudson. Sherlock turned on the spot, looking towards Joan's closed door, before turning back to face her.
"Yeah, we're up here!" Joan yelled, which was followed by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs and approaching the door. Joan looked apologetically towards Sherlock, before preparing herself to speak. "We will talk after dinner, Sherlock, I promise. Let's just focus on tonight, alright? It's something that we can really celebrate, and we should, and I-"
"Sherlock! Joan!" beamed Miss Hudson as she opened the door, causing Sherlock to take a few cautious steps to the side. Miss Hudson looked beautiful, and was dressed in a regal white and gold gown, with golden shoes and bright red lipstick. "Sorry I'm so early, I thought I would come by a little early and give you your gift before dinner! It's too big to take to the restaurant, so..." she trailed off nervously, before running her fingers through her hair and looking from Sherlock to Joan. "Oh, I... I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"No, no you're fine" smiled Joan warmly. "Did you say you bought us a gift? That's so kind, thank you, but it really wasn't necessary."
"Of course it was! Besides, it's more for the baby than for you guys" she smiled, walking towards Sherlock and hugging him tightly, before approaching Joan more cautiously. "Wow, you are getting big, aren't you." Joan placed one hand on her stomach and laughed lightly, before turning towards Sherlock.
"Why don't you go and see what Miss Hudson bought the baby, then get dressed, and we can meet downstairs? I just need a few minutes to finish getting ready." Joan stated kindly, her eyes not leaving Sherlock's. He was watching her with curiosity and anticipation, and with a look which revealed his sadness that they were not able to complete their conversation.
"Of course. Thank you, Miss Hudson" he stated, kissing her chastely on the cheek.
"Not a problem, Sherlock, not a problem. It's downstairs, I left it in the hallway." Miss Hudson nodded towards Joan, before beaming up at Sherlock, linking their arms and leading him from the room. Sherlock cast a look back at Joan, who nodded to him reassuringly, assuring him that they would continue their conversation later that evening. He gave her a weak smile, before facing forwards and following the excitable Miss Hudson into the foyer, where she introduced him to the gift.
Joan walked towards the door, watching Sherlock and Miss Hudson as they slowly descended the stairs, and leaned into the door frame. She heard Miss Hudon's animated voice, and parts of Sherlock's grateful responses, and smiled to herself. She appeared quite serene in the doorway, the evening light shining through the window and highlighting her figure, as she stared with wide eyes towards the staircase. She knew that she would have to discuss the letter and the phone calls with Sherlock that evening, and was well aware of how difficult it would be for them both; not just because of the threat, but also because of the significant delay in her confiding in him about the threats. But before that was going to happen, and cast a shadow over their current happiness and contentment, Joan was determined to make this evening wonderful. She wanted him to realise just how much they were supported, and cared about, and trusted. She wanted him to feel some of the happiness and support which he thoroughly deserved. After the dinner, they would return to the brownstone, and she would tell him the truth. All of it. She sighed at this realisation, closing her eyes for a moment, before creeping back into her room, closing the door, and continuing to get dressed.
In the next fifteen minutes, Joan fixed her hair into elegant waves, applied some make-up, and wrapped herself in the soft material of her dark blue dress, which hugged her developing figure perfectly. She looked happy, glowing, and completely content. Her eyes were bright and fanciful, and the black and silver accessories which she chose to accompany the dress completed the look to perfection. She looked at herself in her long mirror for a moment, nodding approvingly, before reaching towards her dressing table and picking up an antique silver dragon hair-slide, which her mother had given her at her graduation, before gently pulling back a small section of her hair and clipping it with the grip. It finished off the look completely, much to Joan's satisfaction. She picked up her clutch from the bed and slowly made her way down the stairs, where she found Sherlock and Miss Hudson, ready and waiting.
Miss Hudson had clearly been a wonderful influence upon Sherlock, who was now dressed in a fine an expensive, bespoke black suit, with a crisp white shirt and fitted waistcoat. She also noticed that he was wearing a deep blue tie, which was almost the exact same shade as her own dress. She smiled at this as she neared the bottom of the stairs, just as Miss Hudson and Sherlock turned from their positions to face her. Miss Hudson smiled and clasped her hands together, complementing Joan on her "beautiful and adorable" dress. Sherlock, on the other hand, was speechless. He simply stared at the breathtakingly beautiful woman in front of him, inhaled quickly, and felt his heart beat ever so slightly faster. She looked wonderful, completely wonderful. He had never seen a woman look so elegant, poised and confident. She was magnificent.
"Watson, you... you look incredible." He stated, offering her his hand as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She accepted it willingly, and allowed him to lead her slowly towards him, where he looked her over very quickly, his keen and alert eyes darting across her body. Joan watched as his pupils dilated and his breathing increased, and she smiled flirtatiously at the effect which she was having upon him. They all stood, in complete silence, for just under a minute, before Sherlock spoke.
"We... We have ten minutes until the taxi arrives, Watson. Would you like to see the charming gift Miss Watson bought our baby? I have placed it in the nursery, so it is quite safe." Sherlock sounded happy, borderline enthusiastic, Joan mused. She nodded, smiling warmly at him, before allowing herself to be led towards the bottom floor. Miss Hudson followed them, staring at their entwined hands as she walked. She had a very good feeling about this.
Sherlock slowly led Joan down the stairs and towards the nursery, before letting go of her hand and stepping in front of her, and opening the door to the nursery in an exaggerated manner. Sherlock stepped aside to allow Joan to enter the room, and she passed him by silently, her dress sweeping gently upon the ground. As she entered the room, she was overcome by the beautiful object which was proudly displayed in the middle-back of the room.
It was a wooden rocking horse, hand-carved, made from a dark wood which matched the rest of the décor. Joan smiled, walking quickly towards it, before resting a hand upon its head and running her fingers slowly across its body. The horse was smooth and shiny, made from flawless material, without a scratch or stain. There was even a saddle in the centre, as well as reins, and the horse had a mane carved into the wood around its neck. It's tail was similarly crafted, and it was completely beautiful, standing majestically towards the back of the nursery. The aspect of the design which attracted Joan instantly was the detail on its face. The eyes and nose were carved wonderfully, by a skilled hand who she pondered would challenge Da Vinci. She ran her fingers along its nose and lips, before allowing her hand to fall from its face, and she turned to face Miss Hudson and Sherlock, who had been observing her with the utmost interest and appreciation.
"Miss Hudson, this is wonderful, thank you. Wherever did you buy it?" Joan asked, beaming.
"Oh I didn't buy it. I had it made for me by an Italian sculptor friend of mine. I was his... we, had a rather interesting relationship in the late-nineties, and we meet up once every couple of years. When I saw him a few months ago, he was making something similar to this for a prominent family in Florence. I mentioned that I had two friends who were having a baby, and he made one for you, too." She smiled at Joan, as her eyes swam with the memories of her recent Italian escapades. "Yes, he truly is a wonderful man. Incredible artist, too. Very talented."
"Yes, yes he is." Agreed Sherlock, clasping his hands together and resting them in front of him. "Well ladies, we should probably go upstairs and wait for the taxi. After you, Miss Hudson" he stated politely, moving aside to allow her to pass first. She thanked him, before walking from the room and strutting confidently up the stairs, her curled hair bouncing upon her shoulders. Sherlock immediately turned to Joan, whose attention was fixed on the rocking horse. She pushed its back gently, watching as it gently rocked. It truly was a wonderful gift.
"Exquisite, is it not?" Sherlock asked, his eyes not leaving Joan. She turned instantly and smiled at him, removing her hand from the object.
"Yes, it's beautiful. Miss Hudson knows some remarkable people." She replied.
"I believe that's an understatement" Sherlock stated in a low yet satirical tone, before reaching out his hand towards Joan. She smiled coyly, before walking over to him and accepting it, holding it tightly.
"It's going to be alright, you know" she stated kindly. "Really. I promise you."
"Yes. Yes, I know." He stated after a few moments, before bending slightly and kissing her gently on the cheek. She smiled, and he led her slowly from the room, up the stairs and towards the front door, which was now open. Miss Hudson was standing in front of it, beckoning her companions to come closer.
"I guess it arrived earlier than you thought" she smiled, plucking her coat from the stand near the door. "Are you both ready?" Sherlock and Joan nodded in assent, and followed Miss Hudson from the brownstone and into the taxi, where they travelled speedily towards the restaurant.
Sherlock, Joan and Miss Hudson were the last of the guests to arrive, and were immediately shown to their table by an overly-enthusiastic hostess with dark hair and a perplexed expression, who instantly reminded Sherlock and Joan of Miss Hudson. They arrived at their large table, which was situated in a private room at the back of the restaurant, which was complete with a large fish tank which had been built into the back wall, and ornate golden décor. The scene was incredibly regal and grandiose, and suited Sherlock wonderfully. Joan knew this, which, combined with the high-standard of the food, had been one of the main reasons why she suggested this restaurant, which she claimed was a personal favourite of hers. As they approached the table, the smiling and merry faces of Bell and Alfredo wandered up to the guests, and they rose as Joan entered the room, each complementing her on her dress. Sherlock nodded politely as he was greeted by Bell and Alfredo, before allowing his glance to shift towards Gregson, who was watching Joan with a mixture of admiration and agitation. As he turned his head to meet Sherlock's gaze, the latter realised that Gregson knew something of what was troubling Joan, and it was clearly something which made him feel nervous and uncomfortable. Before he had a change to analyse the Captain's demeanour further, Gregson rose from the table and walked briskly over to the new arrivals, kissing Joan on the cheek before reaching out and shaking Sherlock's hand, placing his hand on his back, and leading him to the seat next to his own. Joan observed this with caution and interest, and sat herself in the seat next to Sherlock, with Miss Hudson following suit, placing herself between Joan and Alfredo.
"Well, let me be the first to say how honoured I am to have been invited here tonight" stated Gregson, placing one hand on his chest. "I mean, this certainly isn't something that I ever imagined doing with you guys, under these particular circumstances. But I think it's great. You guys are gonna be incredible parents, and this kid is lucky to have such intelligent, dedicated and wonderful people in its life. I just hope you guys realise that. I also want you to know that everyone at this table, and many others who are not here tonight, support you both fully and completely. And no matter what comes up, what obstacles arise, we are here. And we will do everything in our power to make sure you guys and your baby are safe, happy, and aware of just how great you are." Gregson paused for a moment, fixing his gaze upon Joan during the last part of his speech, before picking up his glass and raising it. "To Sherlock, Joan, and their baby" he declared, as the other members of the table also raised their glasses, repeated the toast, and drank. Sherlock and Joan thanked Captain Gregson, before hearing similar sentiments repeated by other members of the table.
"Y'know, I never imagined this could happen" began Bell, placing his glass on the table and leaning back in his seat. "I always knew you guys had something... special, something different. But this is not what I thought at all. But the Captain's right, y'know? You're both incredibly, and your kid is lucky to have you both, as partners or as independent individuals, whatever. You'll make it work, I know it. And this kid is gonna be... outstanding." Bell nodded, smiling towards Joan as he spoke. Sherlock thanked him warmly, as did Joan, before Alfredo began to speak.
"Same, guys. I mean, after everything you've been through over the past couple years, after all the things you have faced and defeated... you're gonna be fine with this. If you can handle the kinda things you do on a daily basis, then caring for a child is gonna be something you'll do too. And well, I bet. There ain't a kid alive who wouldn't be blessed to have Miss Watson as a mother. And you, Sherlock, will be an incredible father. Look how far you have come, what you have achieved. Your kid is gonna be the representation of that, the embodiment of your achievements. And he's gonna love you, man. And admire you. Both of you." Alfredo finished his statement with a nod, before clasping his hands and placing them on the table, staring at his ring as embarrassment began to wash over him from his impromptu and unplanned speech. Joan instantly sensed his discomfort.
"Thank you, Alfredo. You've helped us more than you realise. Especially Sherlock" she stated, turning towards him. "The support you have given him has been invaluable, and it has given us both incredible strength." Sherlock nodded in assent.
"The support you gave to him, and he gives to you, is also part of this, Miss Watson. You gotta believe that. Because the relationship you have, whatever it may be, works. And it will work for this kid too. Because you are both so wonderful at what you do, and being who you are." Alfredo stated, looking up from the table. Joan smiled warmly at him, and thanked him, before turning her attention to a voice coming from her right.
"Wow, you know, I..." began Miss Hudson, smiling nervously and shaking her head so her hair rested behind her shoulders. "I didn't prepare a speech, sorry. They definitely aren't my strong point. But I wanna say that... that you are both so incredibly, and so inspirational, that neither of you need to worry about a thing. You will be outstanding parents, and this child is incredibly blessed. And we will totally help you with anything we can. I'm always available for cleaning and babysitting!" She smiled, recovering some of her confidence. The members of the dinner party smiled and laughed appreciatively, before Joan and Sherlock thanked Miss Hudson, and the others, for their kind words.
"Thank you, thank you all so much" Joan smiled, clasping her hands together and placing them in her lap. "You know, I... I was so terrified when I realised that... when I found out that I was going to have a baby. But your support and your kindness has played such a great role in alleviated my fears and my doubts. Not all of them, of course, but a substantial amount. I can't even tell you all how grateful I am for your help, support, and trust." She paused for a moment, looking at each person in turn, before focusing her attention of Captain Gregson. "Your kind words to me, and to Sherlock, and our child, have touched us both. And I want to thank you for that. I also want you to know that we, too, are here for all of you. And the support you have given us here, today, and always, will never be forgotten. Not by us, and not by our baby. Although our child will be born into a frightening world, and one which is fraught with fear and anger and hatred, it is incredibly comforting to know that amidst all of that, are people like you. So, thank you. Thank you so much."
All of the people at the table were staring appreciatively at Joan, admiring her strength and her conviction. She was clearly being sincere, and it was not often that she expressed such sentiments as those she had just stated. Before anyone could respond verbally to her kind and wise words, Sherlock began to speak.
"As Watson has said, we are both extremely grateful to you all. I understand how unexpected this is for you all, it took us by surprise too" he began, turning slowly towards Joan, who smiled modestly. "But I want you all to know, and especially you, Watson, that this is one of the most incredible moments of my life. It is a great time, I think, to appreciate the moment. The people around us, the home we have created, and the evolution and development of our partnership. But more than anything, it is a time to celebrate the culmination of those things. Our baby is that representation. This child will be a rose amongst the thorns of our existence, and will blossom and bloom under the radiance and warmth of its mother. I only hope that I am also able to be as stable and as... useful and influence as the wonderful Miss Watson, who will succeed completely at this, our latest challenge. I... I just want you to know, Watson, everyone, in fact, that this truly is wonderful. It is terrifying, it is unpredictable, but it is beautiful, incredible and ours. And I am so, so grateful that I am able to be part of this." His eyes were wide and glistening, and Joan found herself transfixed upon him, completely engaged in his stare. They looked at each other with an intensity which rivalled every feeling and emotion they had ever expressed towards each other, and the people at the table watched this with interest and awe. Sherlock turned slowly from her face, looked down at his glass of sparkling water, and picked it up carefully, raising it into the air.
"I propose a new toast, everyone" he began, looking at the faces of each member of the table in turn. "To everyone in this room, and to everyone embarking on this journey with us" he turned to face Joan, catching her glance, and holding her stare. "And especially to Joan Watson, the incredible woman who has given me the greatest gift and the most wonderful opportunity that I have ever been honoured and privileged enough to receive. To you, Joan Watson" he stated, raising his glass slowly towards the air.
Joan watched him for a moment, and felt her heart beating faster as he watched her with the same intensity from just a few moments ago. She looked towards her glass, picked it up carefully, and lifted it towards Sherlock's own, holding it just inches from him. "And to you, Sherlock, who has made this journey possible. For both of us." They stared at each other for a few more moments, before slowly moving their glasses towards each other, causing a small clinking sound to break the silence.
"To Sherlock and Joan!" beamed Gregson, raising his glass, which was followed by a chorus of the same statement. Sherlock and Joan gazed appreciatively around the table, smiling at each person in turn, before placing their glasses back on the table. The dinner party members spent the next three hours talking and laughing, reminiscing about the past, and contemplating the future. At eleven o'clock, when they had paid the bill and were finally ready to depart, Joan had almost forgotten about the task which she faced when she and Sherlock arrived home. Almost.
"Goodnight, Miss Watson" stated Gregson, slightly tipsy from the alcohol he had consumed. "You'll be fine, okay? I know it. And we will fix this for you, I promise. Alright?"
"Yes, Captain, thank you. I hope Detective Bell is driving." She replied sweetly.
"Oh you know it, Miss Watson. That's why I only got a single glass of that fine champagne. C'mon, Captain, you're on duty in nine hours." Bell placed an arm on the Captain's back and slowly led him away from the table, before turning and thanking Joan and Sherlock for a wonderful evening, and wishing them the best. The hosts repeated these sentiments, and wished him a pleasant evening. Alfredo was the next to leave, pulling on his black dinner jacket and walking slowly towards Joan, thanking her kindly for the invitation.
"Not at all, Alfredo" she smiled. "It wouldn't have been the same without you. And I meant everything I said. We both did."
"I know, Miss Watson" he replied, half-smiling. "I still wanna thank you, though, for the opportunity. And not just the one you've given me tonight." Joan smiled warmly, nodding in understanding, as she leaned up and kissed his cheek, wishing him well.
Soon after Alfredo's departure, a tearful Miss Hudson rose from her seat, making her way over to Sherlock and Joan. Miss Hudson was clearly slightly beyond tipsy, which had the interesting effect of making her appear more serious and confident than usual. She walked quickly over to Sherlock's side, leaning into him and embracing him warmly. "Thanks Sherlock, you're so... so lucky, I... I'm so happy for you" she mumbled into his shoulder, as he looked over towards Joan, who was smiling at the scene. Sherlock cautiously placed his hand on the back of Miss Hudson's head, murmuring some kind words in return, causing her to disentangle herself from his person.
"And you, Joan" she stated, wandering over to Joan and embracing her too. "Thank you for being so... you". Joan laughed softly, returning Miss Hudson's hug, and offering to share a taxi with her.
"You only live a few blocks away, after all. And I want to make sure you get home okay." Miss Hudson smiled at this statement, nodding appreciatively before leading Joan through the restaurant by the hand. Sherlock adjusted his tie, placed his hands in his pockets, and followed the two women through the restaurant and onto the street.
The night air was cool and comforting upon Joan's face, and she found that it soothed her warm skin. In the last few minutes, since the guests had began to leave and she herself had departed, she became aware of just how real her current situation was. The evening had been wonderful, and she was glad that she had forbade herself from thinking about the letter and the phone calls in order to devote an entire evening to their baby. But as she stepped onto the pavement, and Sherlock moved forward to hail a taxi, the realisation of the conversation she was about to have with him hit her with an almost physical force. She felt herself become weaker, her limbs grew heavier, and she visibly paled. Her current condition was enough to cause the merry Miss Hudson to turn to face her, sobering up instantly, and place a comforting arm across her shoulders.
"Hey, hey Joan, hey. What is it? What's wrong?" She asked comfortingly, in a tone which made Joan want to weep.
"Nothing, I just... you know, hormones, exhaustion, I... I'm fine, really. Please don't worry." She offered Miss Hudson a small reassuring smile, which the taller woman seemed to accept, as she drew Joan closer to her.
"It's okay, I understand. Don't worry." Joan breathed in deeply and stared towards the sky, calming herself as she stared at the beautiful Manhattan skyline. It was beautiful, and she found herself instantly calmed by it. Her repose was broken a few seconds later by Miss Hudson, who called across the street to Sherlock, who was talking to a cab driver. "Sherlock!" she called, drawing his attention instantly towards her. Joan was brought from her thoughts, and stared curiously from Miss Hudson to Sherlock, who was approaching them. "Sherlock, Joan's really tired... she needs rest... c'mon, let's get her home, okay?" Joan froze, blinking in frustration as she forced herself to meet Sherlock's eyes, and she shook her head briefly, assuring him that she was fine. He surveyed her for a moment, noting her clear unease, and correctly deducing the reason for it. He nodded briefly, before turning to Miss Hudson.
"The cab is waiting, Miss Hudson. Please, after you."
Miss Hudson took the cue, and removed her arm from Joan's back, before walking clumsily over towards the taxi and sitting in the front seat, talking loudly to the driver. Sherlock looked towards Joan, who crossed her arms and held them to her, suddenly aware of how cold it was. Before she could speak, Sherlock had removed his jacket and wrapped it across her shoulders, before stepping to her side and resting his right hand on her lower back, and leading her towards the car. "It's alright, Joan, I assure you. After tonight, especially, I hope you realise how supported you are, and how much we are all willing to help you, both of you." He stated kindly, in a voice which made her heart beat faster. "I also hope that you are aware of how willing I am to assist you in anything you are concerned about, or anything you could need, Watson." He stated kindly, as they reached the door of the taxi. She nodded in response, as Sherlock slowly opened the door and held her hand as she eased herself into the seat, before he moved around the back of the taxi and let himself into the back seat via the other door. Sherlock and Joan sat in silence, the only sounds within the taxi coming from the loud and laughing Miss Hudson and the slightly bemused cab driver. After a few minutes, the cab pulled up outside Miss Hudson's apartment building, and Sherlock stepped out of the cab to escort her to the door. Joan watched them through the window, admiring his chivalry. She watched as Miss Hudson once more spoke enthusiastically to him, before draping her arms across his shoulders, disentangling herself slowly, and walking into her building. Sherlock watched after her for a few moments and, once he was certain she had made it safely into the lift, turned quickly on his heel and walked back towards the taxi, rejoining Joan in the back seat.
As soon as he sat next to her, Joan shifted slightly in her seat and turned to face him. He turned too, and they found themselves facing each other at the exact same time, their eyes glowing in the darkness. "Sherlock, I... I really want to talk to you about something, when we get back. Do you have some time?" She asked cautiously, her eyes not leaving his. Despite the relative darkness, as the cab slowly moved forwards Joan could feel Sherlock's hand reach towards her, and clasp her folded hands. She looked down towards the touch, before gazing up at his face at the sound of his voice.
"Of course, Watson. Of course. As long as you are ready." He replied kindly, in a low and gentle tone.
Joan smiled in the darkness, looking from him to her lap, and back to him. "I am. I have to be." Sherlock looked at her with interest for a moment, before the taxi pulled up outside the brownstone and the driver announced that they had reached their destination. Sherlock smiled kindly at Joan, before pulling out some cash and paying the driver, and exiting the taxi. By the time he had closed the door and walked to the other side, Joan had already opened her own door and emerged from the back seat, and stood to greet him. She smiled at the slightly put-out expression on his face, and held his jacket closer to her as she walked up the stairs and towards their home, a mixture of fear and anticipation rising inside her with each step.
As soon as she unlocked the door and entered the building, she was instantly compelled to remove Sherlock's jacket, as the warmth from the inside was completely different to the coldness of the outside. She felt strangely comforted by this heat, and reassured by the warm and comfortable feeling which seemed to surround her the moment she entered the property. This was a place where she felt safe, and happy, and protected. She almost felt as though the building itself was giving her the strength she needed for the conversation, and she pondered this as she hung up Sherlock's jacket and moved slowly towards the living area. She placed her clutch on the table near the door, before sitting in her favourite seat on the red couch, and attempting to remove her diamond earrings, which suddenly felt heavy in her ears. As she successfully removed one burden, she looked up to find Sherlock standing near his armchair, lowering himself slowly in it, as she prepared to relieve herself of another.
"Whenever you are ready, Watson" he began in a calm and sincere tone, crossing his legs as she clasped his hands together and placed them on his lap, "I am ready to listen."
Joan sighed deeply, staring at the fireplace, at Angus, and then at the ceiling. She exhaled slowly, before turning her head towards Sherlock and beginning to recount the incident. She did not allow her eyes to leave his face as she told him everything. She began by explaining the letter that she had received, its contents, the threat, and the reasons behind her concealing it from him. His eyes darkened as she told him how she had believed the threat, and did not tell him of the letter because of her fear for his life and for their child's. She then explained her own investigation into the area, and disclosed what she had uncovered. He listened with interest, nodding at intervals, before shifting in his seat slightly as she mentioned the phone call she received a few weeks after the letter. She then reinforced her reasons for not telling him of the letter and the call, claiming that it was due to her concerns for the safety of him and their child, as well as her belief that the news would unsettle him, and cause his current happiness and well-being to be compromised.
"I know it was a mistake, and I know that I should have told you sooner" she began, clasping her hands tightly together in her lap, as she watched his impassive face. "But I really felt that what I was doing was... was right, was appropriate. I thought I could handle it, and figure it out without compromising you or putting our baby at risk. But I was wrong. So I... I told Gregson yesterday, and he helped to uncover some more information, create a new theory. He believes that Ms Carter could be behind all of this, but I'm not convinced. It doesn't seem a plausible explanation, but..." she paused, noticing how he shifted slightly in his seat for the first time since she had began to speak. "I only told Gregson before you because I needed an outside opinion before discussing it with you. And for the record, he was shocked that I had waited so long to tell anyone, and was astounded that I hadn't even confided in you. Her urged me to do so, and I assured him that I would, tonight. I just... I wanted us to enjoy the evening, to celebrate the baby and the future, without the uncertainty of the present hanging over us. But I'm sorry, Sherlock. I know hat I made a mistake, and as a result, I have compromised more than just your safety. I've compromised your trust." Joan breathed in slowly, removing her gaze from his and staring at the fireplace for a few moments, as she calmed herself. She could not bare to be facing away from him, not to see his reaction, and so she turned to face him. When she did, she was surprised to see that he was no longer in his armchair, but by her side.
She glanced at him with caution, and was instantly struck by the darkness in his eyes. It was not anger or hatred that swam in his eyes, but disappointment, loss, and sadness. And she held herself completely responsible for that.
"Watson, I..." he began, before looking to the ground and sighing. "You should have told me, Watson, you should have... I could have helped you. This was not something you should have gone through alone, certainly not for two months." He sounded upset and disappointed, but not angry. Joan was not sure how to feel about this, and began to wonder whether she would actually prefer his anger.
"You're right. I know that now, I... I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I never intended for it to get this far, I just... I panicked." She stated simply, breathing in deeply in an attempt to calm herself. She wanted to remain strong, she had to. She knew that he would comfort her if she appeared distressed, but she did not wish him to. She wanted all of his efforts and his attention to be solely on himself, on his own feelings, and on his pain. She would not allow hers to enter the equation.
"I know. I do, I... I understand, Watson" he stated in exasperation, removing his clasped hands from his lap and standing before her, pacing the floor before looking back at her. "I know you were trying to protect me, to protect the child. But this was not something that you should have undertaken alone, and certainly not for such a long period of time. The threat, if it is true, may be even more real now that the writer has gone so long without being uncovered."
"You're right" she sighed, looking down at her hands before facing him. "You're right. And I know that nothing I can say or do will change what I have done. Or haven't done, really." she stated simply, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she prepared herself for his reaction. "I really thought I could handle it. I thought I could work quickly and solve it without anyone else, so that you would be safe and the baby would be okay, and your happiness and stability would be ensured. But instead, I compromised all of that. And I am sorry, Sherlock. I never meant for this to happen." She looked down at her hands for a moment, staring at her silver bracelets, determined not to allow herself to cry. She could hear him shifting on his feet just in front of her, and felt his presence near her. She looked up, and saw that he was moving towards her, and was kneeling in front of her. He placed one hand on her hands and the other on the sofa to balance himself, before beginning to speak.
"I'm not angry, Watson. I understand why you did it, and I understand how much pain this has caused you. I know that this was not because you did not trust me or believe me, rather, it was a misguided attempt to protect me and the baby. But you must realise that you cannot take on things like this alone." He paused for a moment, looking up at her as she nodded in assent. "Do you remember when you told me how important it is that I open up to you? That I tell you of my fears and concerns, so we can deal with them together?" Joan nodded again, but did not say a word, and waited patiently for him to continue. "That must apply to you too, otherwise we will find ourselves in situations which we do not understand, are not prepared for, and cannot control." Joan sighed, looked up at him and nodded once more, before verbally agreeing with him. His eyes were no longer dark and frantic, but had softened slightly. But they were not soft enough to conceal the pain and anguish behind his eyes. "Now, as no other threats have been made since the call, and there have been no direct or indirect attempts on either one of us, I think we have been fortunate. It does not appear as though we have been immediately compromised by your concealment. However, it is imperative that we act immediately. As the Captain is indisposed, and due to your clear exhaustion, I propose that we rest for tonight, and travel to the precinct first thing in the morning. I will examine the letter, discuss Captain Gregson's findings, and then we will discuss the case with a small team of trusted officers, as well as Alfredo." He was speaking gently and kindly, and Joan was relieved. Although the guilt she was feeling was almost unbearable.
Sherlock clearly sensed this tension, and squeezed her hand reassuringly, before continuing to speak in the same compassionate tone. "We will solve this, Watson. It may just be a hoax, or a scare tactic. But then again, the threat may be quite real. But you are sufficiently protected, which has been demonstrated on this very night." Joan nodded confidently, inhaling deeply as she turned her own hands from under his, and laced their fingers together, before looking back up at him.
"I promise I will do everything I can to make this up to you, Sherlock. Although I am aware of just how difficult a task that will be."
"My dear Watson" he began, moving back on his heels and raising their entwined hands, leading her slowly from the sofa. "You have already done so, by telling me, and allowing me to help you." Joan appeared to be visibly uncomfortable, her distress was clear, as was the reason behind it. "We will talk about this more in the morning, alright? But first, it is essential that you rest." Sherlock watched her for a moment, and tried to think of a way to reassure her, to make her realise that everything was going to be alright. "Watson, I wonder, would you spend the night with me in my room?" She looked up at him, her eyes widening at the offer. She had seldom been in his room, and was aware of how an invitation into the place was incredibly rare and a sign of good faith and trust which, at the moment, she did not believe that she deserved. But the solemn, compassionate and kind look in his eyes reassured her that he was not angry with her, and she understood in that moment the need for her to fix the damage she had caused. His offer was an olive branch, and one which she was grateful to receive.
"Are you sure, Sherlock?" she asked quietly, watching him intently. He offered her a small smile, and nodded bashfully, before returning his gaze to her own, and drawing her closer to him, until they could each feel the beat of the other's heart by their chest. "Yes. I would love to, Sherlock. Thank you" she stated, as he pulled her gently into his embrace. "Thank you."