A/N

Feuilledelune56

Thank you for your kind words! The reunion scene changed a few times and then it just became this one. I hope I was able to capture the yearning between the people who were forced apart for such a long time. Considering what you wrote, I'd like to think I succeeded there. Hope you will enjoy this chapter too. I had a lot of fun writing this one!

Kuppcake

Hi! You are spot on with your observation. OG Sherlock was about to interrupt the fight when Kyrie slammed the door shut again because she wasn't yet done with railing at other Sherlock. OG Sherlock overheard and was not very happy. I don't even think he gave other Sherlock a chance to defend himself. He was too angry and just went right at him. He only avoided interacting with himself because it would take too much time to convince his other self of what was going on. Basically he wanted to find out if his wife was in the otherverse or not and then go back again. With exception to the Gerulfverse in which he all but destroyed London. Now that he has found his Kyrie, a different plan is set in motion, which was going to serve as the tie-in for another sequel but I won't be writing that one.

Elbafo

Oh, she is wrong about that Sherlock. He really does have plenty going for him. I mean, don't forget the expensive red dress and yes, he's not shy of throwing a party! Kyrie simply wasn't ready yet to 'see' those qualities.

And I'm so happy you liked that it was St. John who figured it all out. Sherlock was really too close to the entire mess. And I did establish that St. John has an acute hearing in Like Swans (with the Nightjar) so I found it fitting to have him be the one to be able to 'hear' the correct coordinates.

Oh, the reunion scene! Remember how much I was going back and forth with that one? I'm really happy with the result though and I'm thrilled you like how it turned out!

* S *

The ride back to Baker Street was spent in silence. Kyrie knew she'd have to tread lightly and consider her actions very carefully. The Sherlock that was silently sitting next to her, brooding, was not the same as the husband she'd – unintentionally – left behind. To her great relief, he listened to her when she urged him to wait outside for just a moment, just so she could relieve Mrs Hudson who was looking after the baby.

It really wouldn't help to suddenly confront the elderly lady with a completely different Sherlock when that different Sherlock was not quite himself either. And so Kyrie did her best to dismiss the landlady as friendly and as quickly as she could, while dodging all questions about Sherlock's whereabouts. Only when the landlady closed the door behind her as she disappeared into her private living quarters, did Kyrie release a trembling breath before she quietly opened the door to allow her Sherlock to come inside.

There was a strange look in his eyes that Kyrie could not quite fathom. He was very meek and unlike himself when she gently led him up the stairs, through the door on the landing leading into the kitchen and beyond that… the bedroom.

When he suddenly stopped moving his hand slipped from hers. Kyrie turned around, her eyes studying his face and the myriad of expressions that briefly flitted into existence.

"I need a moment," he said on a half-whisper, before he gathered her in his arms and pulled her close. He buried his face in her neck and his ragged breaths told her many different stories, none of them comforting. Kyrie wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer, trying to offer her warmth and comfort as his body started to shake and tremble. He simply held on to her for a long time, without saying a single word, until Kyrie could feel some of his tension slowly ebbing away from his body.

"I missed you." His voice sounded strangled. Suddenly Mycroft's words echoed in her mind. "Sherlock Holmes detests everything boring and bland. In other words... he would detest you." She smiled thinking about his words as her Sherlock was making a fair attempt at trying to mould their bodies into one.

"Are you ready to meet your daughter, Sherlock?" Kyrie asked as she pulled away from him slightly.

"My daughter..." he sounded awestruck, then a soft rumbling emitted from his chest, a chuckle. "I told you we'd have a daughter this time."

When Sherlock cupped her cheek, Kyrie smiled up at him and placed her hand on top of his. "So you did. I named her Evelina, after your grandmother. And Melodia because… well, you'll find out for yourself."

He then took a steadying breath and went straight for the bedroom. Without a sound he turned the knob and pushed the door open. Kyrie lingered a few steps behind him as he approached the small crib, wanting to give him the space he needed. She could hear how his breath caught when his gaze glided over the tiny bundle.

"It took me so long to get to you, I'm so sorry my little angel," Sherlock told his sleeping baby girl. Kyrie didn't need to look to know what he was seeing… The tuft of dark hair, the cherubic delicate face with features so fine they looked to be painted on by one of the old masters.

As he reached down and scooped up the precious bundle, Kyrie could see the last remnants of that haunted look disappear from his eyes. Sherlock had one hand placed underneath the little body of their daughter and his other hand gently cupped her head as he studied the tiny human being. Evelina began the squirm a little. Her small hands shot out, her lower lip pushed out in a trembling pout… Kyrie held her breath.

Then Evelina's lips parted and a first pitiful wail tumbled from her pouty little mouth. Sherlock laughed, completely enraptured with the sound and looked round to Kyrie as he drew Eveline close to him. "She sounds like a melody!"

"She does," Kyrie agreed wholeheartedly, "and we composed her."

A more urgent wail brought a wide smile to Sherlock's face. "I know, I know, my little one. I rudely woke you up and now you are in the mood for your midnight feed a bit early."

"Sherlock, can you change her nappy please? Your – his – desk was changed into a changing table. I'll prepare a bottle for her."

He raised a brow at her, but she ignored the silent question in his eyes. Kyrie did not feel like explaining right now that the stress of the situation she'd been in, had put an early stop to breastfeeding. Sherlock then simply nodded as he carried his wailing daughter to the appointed location and set about changing Evelina's nappy as quickly and efficient as ever. Kyrie wasted no time in preparing a bottle for her daughter and handed it to Sherlock. While she stripped from the red dress and pulled a white nightgown over her head, she quietly watched him as he fed their daughter the bottle, a content smile on his face.

With Evelina changed, fed and sound asleep, and Sherlock's demons mostly laid to rest, it were Kyrie's own emotions that came bubbling to the surface. Only when it took her a really long time to answer his questions, Sherlock finally stopped asking them and simply pulled her closer to him. Hidden away deep under the bed covers, snuggled against his chest, Kyrie silently cried over the harrowing experience she'd been through herself. When her quiet sobs finally subsided, Sherlock's voice broke the silence that hung in the room, "Better now?"

"Getting there," she whispered back. An awkward silence descended between them and Kyrie instinctively knew that Sherlock was trying to find a way to comfort her that wasn't too uncomfortable for himself.

That's why she wasn't at all surprised when he suddenly said, "It's quite alright if you need more time, you know, to cry and…" he sighed, as if his next words pained him, "let it all… out."

Her Sherlock was being so wonderfully her Sherlock, the despair and sadness she'd felt al this time… it all just seemed to melt away. "If you do though, would you be terribly upset if I just… tune it all out?"

Kyrie blinked her eyes a couple of times, wondering if she'd heard him correctly, then wondering why the hell she was wondering that anyway. First it was a giggle, then a soft chuckle, before she was helplessly laughing against the fabric of a grey shirt he'd appropriated from other-Sherlock.

She could hear him tut in the darkness, right before he said, "That was not meant to be funny!"

"I know," she giggled, "that's what makes it so funny. Just… go ahead, Sherlock and frolic along your Mind Palace. I'm fine, honestly.

"Apparently there's no more need now. You're fine."

"How about you? Are you fine? Is-is St John?"

"Oh, no need to worry about me, I'm… just… archiving. And St John, he's... Actually, when you get back, he'll need some time."

When he didn't elaborate, Kyrie grew worried. "Sherlock?"

"He tries to be a grown up when he's still just a little boy. A little boy who needs his mother and who was extremely worried when she was suddenly gone. He even gave up his favourite night-time story. I have the pages folded in my pocket. He'll try to not show it otherwise, but we should expect regular nightly… check-ups for a while. To make sure we're both still there."

St John… her little boy… Kyrie felt like bawling her eyes out all over again.

"He gave you the Snake and the Rose? Why?"

It took a moment before Sherlock answered, and when he did, his voice was filled with emotion.

"I think… I think he wanted you to remember him when I found you… to remind you he's waiting for you to come home and tuck him in again."

Kyrie clasped two hands in front of her face in an unsuccessful attempt to prevent another bout of crying. Just the thought her little boy was scared she'd forget about him… who wouldn't cry?

"When can we go home?" she asked her husband when she felt it was safe enough to do so.

Sherlock turned on his side and trailed a finger along her cheekbone. "Day after tomorrow. The Matter Bridge needs to be calibrated after each use and this time… there was a need for maintenance as well. I could not wait that long. I had to know..."

"I think I only got about four words of all that." She offered him a small smile, even though it was dark and he would not be able to see it.

"I'll explain it all tomorrow…" He fell silent when he reached out for her and pulled her close to him. "Kyrie, if I ever took you too much for granted, or made you feel that way… I- I'm sorry!"

She snuggled into him. "It's okay. I think it's a trap we both fell for when everything seemed so…"

"Right?"

"I was going to say perfect."

"Well–"

"Shut up!" she sniggered against his night shirt and she could feel his deep laugh reverberate beneath her fingers on his chest.

"I wasn't exactly perfect though. I remember St John's last birthday. You went through so much trouble to make him that birthday cake and when I saw what you were doing… I was quite disparaging and said…"

"Why go though all the trouble of making that monstrosity when I could just order a perfect cake from a bakery… I remember and I agree, that was quite mean –"

"I wouldn't say mean… did you really think that was mean?"

"It wasn't very nice, Sherlock. But, I wasn't even halfway finished when you told me that and at that point it really didn't look like anything yet. And even though what you said wasn't very nice, I also knew you didn't mean it quite like that."

"It was a very nice birthday cake in the end. St John rather liked it."

That earned him a swat against his chest. Kyrie huffed. "It was a beautiful birthday cake and St John loved it!"

"He loves everything that has to do with birds."

"It was a beautiful cake, shaped like a robin and impeccably painted with a high gloss glaze."

"I wouldn't say impeccably, that would suggest a level of perfection. Meticulously, yes. Impeccably… no."

Kyrie pushed herself up and narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you being an arse on purpose right now?"

The next moment she found herself on her back looking up at Sherlock who was grinning down at her. "Perhaps a little. I have missed this." He leaned in closer, his lips just a hairsbreadth away from hers. "I have missed you." His voice was a husky whisper and in the long minutes that followed, Kyrie was kissed a dozen different ways, from soft nibbles to deep probing that played havoc with her insides, spinning her up and down and for a moment everything else blotted from existence.

The first thing to go was his grey shirt, next her nightgown and knickers got discarded. He began a thorough exploration of the soft planes of her belly and thighs, in such an adoring way that Kyrie soon abandoned any insecurity about her fuller, after-pregnancy body. His hand drifted closer and closer to the apex between her thighs until such a terrible yearning was built in her that she arched upward to meet his exploring hand.

There was a brief interruption when Sherlock simply pushed his pyjama bottoms down. He then kissed her again while at the same moment, with nerve-shattering slowness, he entered her, all the way, until he was completely sheathed.

For an eternity, only his mouth moved sweetly over hers, until Kyrie tilted her hips to encourage him, and when he began to slip out of her, she could not help the soft sigh that escaped her, or the gasp of pleasure when he slid back home.

The slow pace had to be maddening for him and Kyrie recognised his need for atonement, as he made each deliberate stroke so exquisitely prolonged. After her ecstasy had mounted feverishly, Sherlock withdrew until she held only the pulsing tip of him in her. Kyrie opened her eyes and found him staring down at her, a heated look in his eyes. She trembled, suspended on a precipice, and then he plunged deep within her a final time and pushed her right over the edge causing her to cry his name as an all-rendering ecstasy raced through her, each shock more extraordinary than the last, until she was near the point of passing out. She barely felt the last gentle kiss he placed on her lips.

* S *

At first a wild panic threatened to shatter her when Kyrie woke up alone in a cold bed. Her first thought was that the entire wonderful reunion of the night before had merely been a fanciful dream. A dream so amazingly beautiful that the cold reality now left her gagging. Until her eyes fell on a single sheet of paper placed on Sherlock's pillow.

With trembling fingers Kyrie carefully pulled it towards her. Seeing the large to-the-point, no nonsense 'S' at the bottom, relief flooded her and she cried and laughed at the same time.

There are a few things I need to take care off.

Don't worry, I won't be long.

Few hours at the most.

There's a slight chance I need more than a few hours.

Depends on how it goes.

S

PS I love you

PPS St John loves you too

PPPS So do John and Mary

PPPPS And Mycroft

PPPPPS Basically everyone does

The note put Kyrie in a deliriously happy mood. She hummed during her morning routine. She hummed a lullaby when she changed and fed Evelina. And by the time she was preparing a light breakfast for herself and was just in the process of making tea, Kyrie broke out in a full song. Though complicated arias were no longer achievable for her to sing, Kyrie did still love to lose herself in a beautiful or emotional melody… She did anyway before 'this' all happened.

"There's a new world coming
And it's just around the bend

There's a new world coming
This one's coming to an end."

Hmm, it felt a bit off, but seeing Evelina slumbering peacefully in the small cot that was placed in the living room was enough to put a smile on her lips.

"There's a new voice calling
You can hear it if you try

And it's growing stronger
With each day that passes by."

She danced a few steps back to the kitchen.

"Yes a new world's coming
The one we've had visions of
Coming in peace, coming in joy
Coming in love."

It sounded a bit off as well. She sounded off… She wasn't entirely herself yet.

The realisation made her stop. Better to not force things.

When she spun around, Kyrie suddenly found Sherlock… other-Sherlock… standing in the doorway, a most curious look on his face. It was a look that tended to happen when he wasn't entirely sure which emotion was predominantly present. Wait… Other-Sherlock didn't do emotion! Her Sherlock did! When she gave him a closer look, whatever emotion had been on his face before, was gone now. She sighed inwardly.

"Good morning, Sherlock. What brings you here? I- I mean…" Kyrie felt just a bit flustered when she remembered, too late, that this Sherlock was actually living here. She was merely a guest."

"Just checking. Wanted to see how things were… are… You seem to be in a good mood."

"Yes, well…" Kyrie released a breath of air. "My husband managed to find me after all so, bit relieved, as you can imagine…" Kyrie repressed the urge to follow up with 'or not'.

For a moment other-Sherlock seemed a bit lost. Out of place. Not that he looked out of place, more that he seemed to feel that way himself. "Speak of the devil, where is the man of the hour?"

There was something about his voice that made Kyrie narrow her eyes at him. He almost sounded scathing.

"He's away on an errand. He'll be back soon though." Kyrie gestured to the kettle. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you, I- I came to ask a question. Apparently your husband has been quite busy this morning. He apprised John and Mary of the fact that he does not plan to stick around for very long after he's answered some questions."

"And that surprises you?" Kyrie tried to keep her voice as calm as possible. Of course they intended to leave as soon as possible! She had not seen her little boy in months, not to mention the rest of her family and closest friends!

"No, no of course not. It's just that… Well, let's be honest, this is as close Mummy has ever gotten to being a grandmother. She hasn't even had the chance to meet her…"

Kyrie whipped around and gave Sherlock a warning glare to not finish that sentence. He quickly changed his faux-pas to, "your daughter. Is it okay if I, if I invite her too? If anything, it will give her a chance to meet and say goodbye to a notion that will never come to realisation here."

A notion? Did he really just have the gal to refer to her precious daughter as a notion?

Slow breath in… Slow breath out… They would soon leave and the constant desire that she currently experienced on a daily basis – to throttle that man until he saw blue in the face – would hopefully disappear. Well, that was likely too much to hope but Kyrie would at least like to spend a few days with her family without feeling that particular urge.

"I really don't mind, Sherlock. You can invite anyone you like." It really didn't matter to her. They would be leaving tomorrow and then Kyrie could finally regain her leash on life again.

"Thank you. Um, you should probably know… I heard a few mentions of… a picnic. In your honour. Well, yours and Evelina's. Not too thrilled by the prospect but my opinion was effectively…"

"Overruled?" Kyrie couldn't help but smile. Now that this bloody nightmare was finally over, she couldn't help but think he wasn't that bad. In fact… this Sherlock had some first rate qualities after all.