Chapter thirty-five: Sherlock's return

One month later,

It was 8:300 in the morning when my phone rang. I yawned and answered sleepily. I typically didn't answer my phone in bed, but I was so tired that I'd accidentally fallen asleep again. "Hello?"

Tammy?

"John?"

Yes, I need you to come down to Bart's.

I frown. "What's wrong, is it Mary?"

No, it's Sherlock.

I bolt up right. "Sherlock? John, is he hurt?"

No, he's not hurt.

John, give me the phone! I can hear Sherlock shouting in the background. You're going to freak her out!

No I won't! John states emphatically. Until, I tell her what you've been up to!

Suppose I tell Mary what you've been up to! Now give me that phone!

What's he talking about John?

Nothing! I swear Mary, he's making this, ahh!

"What's going on?" there's a brief struggle over the phone and I hear Sherlock, Mary and John shouting. "Hello?"

Tammy? Sherlock has the phone now, and I can hear John complaining about Sherlock stealing his phone.

"Sherlock? Are you all right? What's going on?"

Nothing. John's overreacting again.

I am not!

Shut up John. Now, promise me that you won't listen to anymore from John until you get here.

"Why?"

Because, I don't want you upset on your ride down here. It's not good for the baby. I roll my eyes. Don't do that.

"Don't do what?"

Roll your eyes at me.

I groan. "I hate you."

Yeah, I know, I hate you too. Especially when you don't mean it.

I laugh. "Fine! I love you. I'll see you down at Bart's!"

And don't bring the children!

"I won't. Mrs. Hudson's watching them."

Sherlock is silent for a moment. You're still in bed aren't you?

"Your fault." I remind him. "I'm pregnant, remember?"

Well actually, considering your sexual activity—

I hang up on him and shake my head. "No, I'm not talking to you when you say things like that." I stand up and begin routing through my closet for a dress to wear. I finally settle on my tan, military style dress. Unlike most women, I love flaunting my stomach. I picked this dress because it was easy to get into; it had a zipper on the front. I grab a pair of sensible sandals and then hurry down to Mrs. Hudson's flat.

She's teaching the children their alphabet; she looks up from the table. "Hello Tammy, did you sleep well?"

I nod. "Yes I'm sorry about that."

She shook her head. "No bother, I love this and you know it."

Linda and Sherlock run up to me. "Morning!" They chime out in almost perfect unison.

I hug them. "Good morning. Mommy's got to go for a while."

"No!" Sherlock cries out. "Don't go."

I laugh. "I have to. Daddy's here and I need to go see him."

Their faces light up. "Daddy's home?" Linda asks. "Daddy?"

I nod. "Yes. I have to go get him."

"Tell him hurry!"

Sherlock gives me a push. "Go! Go get daddy!"

I am informed the moment I enter Bart's, by Charles that John is down in the lab with a group of dirty people. He would have escorted me down, except he had a patient show up. I move, or rather waddle, happily down the way to the labs. I open the door just in time to see Molly slap Sherlock hard with her hand. Everyone can only stare at her in surprise. Molly then slaps him again! I myself can only stare at her in shock.

"How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with?" Molly glances briefly towards John. "And how dare you betray the love of your friends? Say you're sorry."

Sherlock rubs his jaw. "Sorry your engagement's over, though I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring."

"Stop it." Molly demands angrily. "Just stop it."

It's at that moment that I find my voice. "And what gives you the right to slap my husband?!" Everyone turns towards me. Sherlock smiles innocently at me and my guard goes up; I know that look and it means that he's done something. "If anyone's going to slap him, it's going to be me."

Sherlock's eyes travel up and down the length of my body. "You look lovely this morning."

I walk up to him and wrinkle my nose. "Oh, you look terrible!"

"Nice to see you too." Sherlock says as he places a semi-dirty hand on my stomach. His clothes are about two sizes too big for him and there's this weird smell hanging about him. "Both of you." He smiles at me. "You've gotten bigger since I've seen you last."

"Sherlock!"

"And it's most becoming." He says as he pulls me into a hug. "You should be pregnant all the time." I flush brightly. "Your eyes are glowing, you look simply adorable and you're sweeter than an entire candy store."

I roll my eyes as I wrap my arms around his waist. "Don't you even bother sweet talking me. It won't work."

"It always does."

I struggle to keep a stern face. "Not today it won't."

"Yes it will," he states matter-of-factly as he runs his hands up and down my back. "because you've missed me."

I shake my head. "Stop distracting me and tell me what happened." I pull back and examine his face. "What did you do?"

"Well, before you fly off the handle-

"So you did do something that's going to make me mad at you?"

"Several things," he shifts uncomfortably. "but since I haven't seen you in a month, would you mind it terribly if I kissed you before all Hell breaks loose?"

"I certainly would," he tilts his head to the side and studies my face carefully. "but why don't you go ahead and do it any way?" Sherlock smiles as he leans forward and kisses me on the mouth. I smile as his beginnings of a beard scratch my chin. It starts off as one kiss then it quickly becomes five kisses and would have become more if I hadn't pulled away. I shake my head. "We're in public Sherlock." He lets out a groan and kisses me once more. I flush and turn away as his lips tickle my jawbone. "I mean it."

He places his hand in the small of my back. He whispers closer. "You look so beautiful and I've missed you so very, very much." He kisses me a few more times and I smile as he breaks the kiss and rests his head against mine.

"Now...we should get back to business?"

He groans. "I suppose so."

"We need to discuss this now." John speaks his face stern and his voice low. "If you were anywhere near this kind of thing again, you could have called. If you couldn't talk to Tammy, then you could have talked to me."

"Please do relax." Sherlock says to John. "This is all for a case."

"What's all for a case that's got John in such a mood?" I ask. "And John, can you tell me?"

John groans. "He's been doing drugs again. Illegal ones."

My face freezes and I pause where I am. I turn towards Sherlock and study him. "Really?" He nods. I bite my lip, unsure of what to say. I'm shocked, surprised, but at the same time irrationally calm. After all, he did warn me that he was going to be doing things that I wouldn't approve of. I look at Sherlock, then at John, then back at Sherlock. Then, I say the only thing I'm able to say. "Oh."

John lets out an exasperated laugh. "I'm surprised you're taking this so calmly!"

"Who says I'm taking it calmly?" I ask. "Who says I'm calm at all?"

Sherlock adds for good measure. "She's actually pretty upset but isn't sure what to do with the conflicting emotions inside her."

I glare at him. "I would be sorely tempted to smack you if Molly hadn't denied me the pleasure. But," I point out. "you did give me an advanced warning, so I can't really get mad at you can I?"

Sherlock gives John a satisfying smirk. John groans. "I can't believe this! Tammy!"

"My life John, not yours. If Sherlock hadn't warned me that this was all for a case I wouldn't have let him lay a hand on me for a month!"

"Considering you're pregnant and your hormones are out of control," Sherlock comments. "it's highly unlikely that you're going to refuse any of my advances. Judging by your choice of outfit, granting me easy access, you can't wait for us to get home."

I splutter in embarrassment, as John demands. "What kind of case would need you doing this?"

Sherlock glances at John. "I might as well ask you why you've started cycling to work."

John begins shaking his head. "No. We're not playing this game."

"Quite recently, I'd say. You're very determined about it."

"Not interested."

"I am." I notice this scraggly, half-dead/asleep young man. "Ow."

"Oh, sorry." Mary says, from where she's binding his wrist. "You moved, but it is just a sprain."

"Yeah. Somebody hit me." He looks at John. "Just some guy.

"Yeah," John says. "probably just an addict in need of a fix."

Sherlock looks pointedly at John. "Yes. I think, in a way, it was." I shake my head. John sprained a man's wrist? Well, that was unusual!

"Is it his shirt?" the man asks, his words slightly slurred.

Sherlock addresses him. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, it's the creases, ain't it?" All eyes go to poor John and his shirt. "The two creases down the front. It's been recently folded but it's not new." Sherlock smiles slightly. "Must have dressed in a hurry this morning, so all your shirts must be kept like that." John and I stare at the man in confusion. "But why? Maybe because you cycle to work every morning, shower when you get there and then dress in the clothes you brought with you." Sherlock is clearly impressed. "You keep your shirts folded ...ready to pack."

"Not bad." Sherlock comments.

"And I further deduce…you've only started recently, because you've got a bit of chafing."

John looks down his body self-consciously. "No, no," Sherlock says. "he's always walked like that."

"Great!" I say what's on everybody's minds. "Now, there's two Sherlock Holmes walking around the face of this earth.

The guy then turns his gaze on me and I shift uncomfortably. "You're Mrs. Holmes. I deduce that-

"No, you don't." Sherlock says quickly. "No one deduces her except me. Remind me, what's your name again?"

"They call me 'The Wig'."

"No, they don't." Sherlock says quickly

The guy shifts awkwardly. "Well, they call me Wiggy."

"Nope."

He hesitates and then looks down. "Bill. Bill Wiggins."

"Nice observational skills, Billy." His phone sounds a text alert. He takes out the phone and looks at the message. "Ah! Finally."

"Finally what?" Molly asks.

Billy eyes Sherlock. "Good news?"

"Oh, excellent news, the best!" He says happily as he turns and heads for the door, working on his phone. "There's every chance that my drug habit might hit the newspapers. The game is on!"

"Oh no." I moan as I follow after him. "Do I have to sue somebody again?"

"Nope." He raises his phone to his ear as he reaches the door; he turns and looks around. "Excuse me for a second." He gives me a pointed glare. "You, stay here!"

He leaves the room and I mutter. "Where do you think I can go?"

John shakes his head. "You shouldn't let him get away with things like that."

I exhale. "He's Sherlock Holmes. He can get away with anything!"

John nods. "I guess...but sooner or later, everyone does something that they can't get away with."