From W. Y. Traveller: Candlelight

Day 5: Pillow Talk

Rated: G

It was well past midnight when Watson returned home, and he fully expected Mary to have turned in hours ago. Instead he found her in bed but awake and reading, lamps dark but candles lit on the bedside table.

Even odder, she was rereading A Study in Scarlet.

"Mary!"

"John." Her eyes lit up, and his irritation began to dissipate. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, after all, to see his wife after a dreadfully long day.

He undressed quickly and crawled into bed beside her. "What on earth are you doing awake so late, milady?"

She smiled as if his question were a silly one. "I wanted to be awake when you came home."

"I can see that."

"Don't be cross, Doctor Watson." She laid her book aside and scooted closer to him. "I've missed you today."

He chuckled and put his arm around her. "Why on earth were you reading that?"

She tilted her head. "I was reading the first few chapters. Do you know, while you are getting to know Sherlock Holmes, the readers are getting to know you?"

He hummed skeptically.

"Well, a younger you."

He decided to humor her. "And what do you think of this younger me?"

Unexpectedly, her face fell. "I think that I wish I could have been there, to help you heal from the war."

He tightened his hold on her and kissed the top of her head. "Oh dearest… you helped me when I needed it. I promise."

She took his free hand in hers and rested her head on his good shoulder. "Today," she said slowly, "the veil between now and the past has felt thin. Earlier, I missed Bombay so keenly that I could scarcely breathe. I've lived twice as much life here in Great Britain but I still miss India."

Watson squeezed her hand. "I understand. Sometimes I miss the borderlands very keenly myself, and Edinburgh most of all."

"Why didn't you go back?"

"Because it would not have been the same. I had changed so much… and I could not bear to go home as a stranger. The time that I did go back there on a case was bad enough."

She nuzzled him. "Poor darling."

He smiled softly. "Well, it worked out all right in the end, didn't it? I met Holmes. I met you." He kissed her head again.

"Mm… And with a little one on the way."

She spoke so drowsily that it took a minute for the import of those words to sink in. "...Mary?!" He pulled back and looked down at her, hardly daring to believe what he'd just heard.

She looked up and smiled sleepily. "Things have been so busy, so frightful… I kept it to myself when the first signs showed again." Worry flickered in her candlelit eyes. "But yes, John, God willing, we are having a baby."

Watson's heart felt too full to speak. After trying so many times, and the heartbreak of the stillbirth, it felt frightening to hope. And yet… "Oh, Mary…"

"I know. I'm afraid, too." Her eyes were bright with tears now. "I'm afraid, but at the same time… John, I think we're going to keep this baby. I don't know why I feel that but I do."

Watson was smiling past tears of his own. "Well…" He stroked her fingers briefly, then lifted her hand to his lips. "I trust your instincts, darling. When…?"

"Early to mid August, I think." She laughed softly, eyelids floating closed. "Dreadful time to have a baby…"

"But not a busy time for me," he murmured, sinking down below the blankets with her. "I shall be able to spoil you to my heart's content."

"Mm…"

"Goodnight, Mary."

"Goodnight, John."

Despite the late hour and his own exhaustion, Watson remained awake a while longer, watching his wife sleep. We're going to have a baby. And for all his fears and concerns, he could have jumped for joy. Well… perhaps in the morning… or rather… after the sun rose…

A/N: So, part of the reason this one is late is that the start was slow to form, and then the rest of the story formed very slowly after that. It's also attached to other things I've been working on, also slowly, for years. We'll see how it goes…