Sherlock was waiting patiently for me when we got home in his chair by the fireplace. At least to the untrained eye. I knew better. He had that closed off look on his face that he got when he was deep in thought.

"Home," I said as I walked over to him.

"Hm?"

"I'm home."

"Obviously."

I rolled my eyes, "What would you like for dinner?"

"Not hungry," he sighed not looking at me.

"Fine. What are you working on?"

"Hm?"

"You have that look on your face that says you're on a case and something's got you stumped."

"Nothing stumps me."

"Whatever you say," I said trying to refrain from rolling my eyes.

"How was your milkshake?" he asked looking up at me finally.

"Delicious," I smiled as I sat down carefully on the couch and swung my feet up onto the coffee table. "Bean was very happy." He nodded and got up from where he was sitting and walked out to the kitchen, Gladstone on his heels. "Mummy could use a foot rub though!"

"Make an appointment with my secretary," he called back.

"It's made and you're late." He stuck his head out of the kitchen and gave me a confused look. "What? You said make an appointment with your secretary. Your brother still seems to think that's what I'm best for."

"Well he's wrong."

"Of course he's wrong, but when you refuse to talk to him who do you think he talks to? Either me or John, which would then make us your secretaries. Rather under paid secretaries if I might add." He continued to stare at me. "Please?"

He rolled his eyes, "Fine. One second. Gladstone, go to Charlotte." The dog looked from Sherlock to me. I patted the couch and he jumped excitedly before running over to jump up next to me, resting his head on my belly. I scratched his ears as I waited for Sherlock to finish in the kitchen. He came out a few minutes later, a cup of tea in his grip that was held out for me to take.

"You are the best," I said taking it from him. He bent down and lifted my feet from the table before sitting down on it and putting them in his lap. He started rubbing the one and I couldn't help but groan in relief. "I, love you. You are amazing. My savior."

He smirked at me, "You're welcome."

"So what are you working on?"

"Hm?"

"Don't play dumb," I said drinking my tea. "I know you're working on something. Remember we had this conversation about you hiding things from me?"

"I'm not hiding anything from you. You know all the cases I've worked on," he replied simply. "And anything I don't tell you, John does, so I fail to see the problem." I narrowed my eyes at him trying to think back to any cases he may still have open. He normally didn't take one unless he was done with the other, but there had been a few overlapped. He leaned forward and kissed the spot between my eyebrows, "Stop worrying about it."

"It's you. I worry about anything concerning you, constantly. I mostly know how your head works," I replied tilting my head up to kiss him since he hadn't moved back to sit on the coffee table again. Bean decided to give a good hard kick making me gasp. "Ow…"

Sherlock smirked before leaning down and kissing my stomach as Bean continued to move around. I heard a chuckled from the door and we both looked over to see John standing there, his phone out and a big smile on his face. Sherlock sat back putting my feet back in his lap and switching to the other foot.

"Delete that," he drawled.

"Nope," John said smiling at him. "Proof your human. I'm going to make a ton of copies too."

"Let me see," I said waving him over as Sherlock made a face. John walked over and showed me the picture on his phone. "Oh that's precious. Send it to me so I have a copy."

"Done," John chuckled as he started tapping his phone.

"What brings you up here?" I asked as John sat on the other end of the couch. Gladstone moved to snuggle up to him instead.

"Sherlock said he wanted to go check out something and needed a hand." I raised an eyebrow at the person in question.

"Change of plans John," he huffed. "Charlotte needs me to go to some boring class with her."

"It's a birthing class, of course you're going," I sighed.

"Yea Sherlock, that's a little more important than trying to hunt down a man who's been MIA for three months," John chuckled. I looked at John before looking back at Sherlock, who's jaw had stiffened slightly. Now things made sense.

"I thought you were going to stop worrying about him?" I asked giving him my sweetest look.

"I never said that," was his response. I rolled my eyes.

"So birthing class? Do tell me how that goes," John chuckled nodding in Sherlock's direction.

"Of course," I smiled. "I can't believe there's only six weeks until my due date."

"It's that close?" John asked. I nodded at him. "Oh wow."

"Is that better?" Sherlock asked.

"Much. Thank you." He gave me a small smile before resting my feet back on the coffee table. He got up and walked over to his desk, checking something and then going back to our bedroom. I shook my head at John.

"Everything ok?" John asked.

I shrugged, "I guess. He's just been a bit closed off the last few days. Something's eating him and he just won't talk about it."

"It's probably the whole Moran thing," John sighed. "He's not, like, ignoring you or anything is he?"

I shook my head," Far from it. Anything I need and everything I don't. He's just quieter than normal."

John nodded his head before shrugging. "Nursery done?"

"Yes. At least I think so. Of course, then I think of something else I need to do." Sherlock came back out and sat down at the desk, flipping open his laptop and clicking away on something. John and I watched him a few minutes before he quickly closed his laptop and stood up.

"Ready?"

"Uh yea, sure," I replied thrown off by his abruptness. He walked over and held a hand out for me, pulling me up off the couch. "We'll see you later John."

"Yup have fun," he chuckled.

Fun was not the word I would use for how my class went. Sherlock was his normal self, which didn't surprise me, but now I had to either find a new class or a new birthing partner to take. I was a bit annoyed, but too tired to start arguing with him. I dropped my jacket and purse on one of the chairs and walked back to the bedroom to get ready for bed. Sherlock came to lean in the doorway as I pulled the sheets back to crawl in.

"You're mad."

"I'm too tired to talk about this right now," I sighed refusing to look at him.

"You don't really need to go to those," he said. I turned to glare at him. "I'm quite capable of looking things up and guide you through it when the time comes."

"That's not the point Sherlock," I huffed. "I told you, I'm too tired for this. I love you. Let me sleep. Bean isn't kicking up a fuss right now and I just want to go to bed."

"Ok," he said. I walked over and kissed him good night before laying down wrapping myself in the blankets. I heard the door click shut and closed my eyes.

I was cleaning dishes in the kitchen about a week and a half later when the pain in my back started again. I had been feeling it on and off since the previous night. It really had been going on for a few days and after a phone call to my doctor and a trip to the emergency, they decided it was only Braxton Hicks contractions, nothing to worry about. My doctor said to just keep alert about it and any changes to call her immediately. At the moment, I was glad to have the flat to myself. Sherlock had been hovering and I had forced him to take Gladstone out on a case with him that he almost refused. It was peace and quiet in the flat, something I had been craving for days.

I walked out to the living room to grab a mug I saw on the desk that had failed to make it to the sink and was welcomed with a safety of a gun clicking. I froze and upon turning, saw a rat faced man pointing it at me. His frame rang a few bells as he stood leering in front of me.

"Ah, Charlie, we properly meet at long last," he sneered.