Exactly twenty-four hours after the wedding, the two of us sat down in the living room, pretending to be interested in the novels piled up on the coffee table. We were going to stay at Mycroft's until tomorrow, when we would be leaving for Switzerland. But we couldn't focus on much of anything except for the screams of pain that were coming from the room upstairs, where John and Mrs. Hudson were helping Mary bring Rosie into the world. Mycroft, Simza and Aunt Daisy had volunteered to take the children to the theatre to see a performance of The Nutcracker Ballet, the perfect distraction for all the hullaballoo going on.

Admittedly, there probably would have been much more chaos with them here, even though they were very well behaved, they were still children. They made noise and they got excited easily, and you could only supply them with so much ice cream before they would be running around the house.

"Come on, Charlotte, you've always loved The Nutcracker when we were little," Jane said, when I told her that I wanted to stay and help Mary. "Almost everyone in this house is going. Mother, Father, Uncle Charlie, even Grandfather. Mycroft asked Stanley and Carruthers if they wanted to go, of course they couldn't refuse the chance to get out of the house for an hour or two. William actually got us tickets for our anniversary. We have two extras since Mary and John can't make it, so if you and Sherlock want to go..."

"I appreciate the gesture, but I think it's better that I stay here."

"Are you sure you don't want to go somewhere more peaceful?" I asked Sherlock for what felt like the tenth time in the last hour. I was surprised when he told me that he wanted to stay, considering the fact that he wasn't the best around noise and how every one of Mary's screams made him flinch and clench his fists anxiously; much like me, he preferred the peace and quiet, but he told me that he wanted to be a lifeline of support for his friend.

"I'm sure," he replied, messing with his hair - a nervous tick - and his eyes shifted to the stairwell as Mrs. Hudson went up the stairs with a bowl of hot water in her hands and some fresh towels. I suggested that we put some old sheets on the bed to keep from ruining the clean ones, but Mycroft insisted that he was planning on getting rid of them anyways as he mentioned last night that a renovation had been planned.

"Just let me know when it becomes too much." I said, placing my hand on top of his, taking note of how sweaty it was and how he was clutching the arm of the chair so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "We could go outside, or we could skate on the frozen pond."

"Maybe later, darling." He shifted and tapped his foot impatiently on the wooden floor. "What's taking so long anyway? She should have been here by now."

"Delivering a baby takes a lot of time and effort; imagine trying to get a watermelon out of your nose."

He looked up from his book and I could see he was trying to picture it. "And now I don't ever want to eat a watermelon ever again."

"Maybe not the best analogy."

"It does sound painful."

We had been informed of the impending miracle at precisely 4:17 this morning. It was so unexpected, that when I first heard Mary screaming, I thought that she was in danger and grabbing the closest thing in the room to a weapon, an umbrella, Sherlock and I ran out of the room, but we were greatly relieved to know that it was just because the baby had decided to make her grand entrance.

It was now exactly 9:42, five hours later and so far, no word on Mary's progress, though her occasional cries and screams of pain still pierced the air, always followed by the low comforting tone of John's voice as he soothed his wife. I had read in a book that first time mothers took longer to have their babies than mothers who already bore children before. It had something to do with the muscles being stretched and stuff like that, according to Mrs. Hudson, who surprisingly knew a lot about childbirth.

"You should have been a midwife instead of a housekeeper," I said jokingly from my comfortable chair as she came down the stairs, presumably going to fill up a bowl of hot water. Her cheeks were all red and her eyes were lit up with excitement. She was born to do this, I could see it.

"I would have liked that, but I love my job and even though some people make things a little more difficult, I wouldn't change a thing."

"Is she alright?" he wondered aloud, setting his book down and reaching a hand out to pet Gladstone under the chin. "Should I go and check on things?"

"I'm sure she's just fine, her husband is a doctor after all, and Mrs. Hudson and my mother are there, too."

"But does he know anything about delivering a baby? He said he delivered two while serving in the war, but other than that, I don't know." After a long time, he said, "Watson knew that I didn't care for Mary in the least, but then I realized that if she makes him happy, and if he loves her with his whole being, then I'm willing to set our differences and petty arguments aside, since there's nothing I can do about it now."

"I know that you care for her, too." I said, setting my book down and moving so that I was standing next to him.

"Well, I would hate for something terrible to happen to her or the baby," he admitted. "I read articles where it says that sometimes the mother can lose so much blood, or that the fleshy cord thing can get caught around the baby's neck, or the baby could be stillborn."

"Reading up on childbirth? That's not something I thought I would hear," I teased, trying to lighten the mood, but he still looked like a hanged man going to the noose. "Don't worry, I'm sure the little terror will be here soon."

"Little terror?" he laughed, pulling me onto his lap. "but yes, I'm sure she will. It's only a matter of time."

It seemed like a long time later when the sound of a baby's cry floated through the floorboards. Sherlock opened his eyes and could not help but smile. Just a little. Whether from the joy he felt upon the child's highly anticipated arrival, or that all the ordeal was finally over, he was not entirely sure. He glanced up at the clock, it was nearly noon.

"So, are you looking forward to being an uncle?"

"I'm not sure yet, I just want to do it right."

"I know you will make just as good an uncle, as you do a detective."

We left the lonely office to meet John at the stairway, waiting for him to make the big announcement. Sure enough, he emerged from the bedroom and appeared at the top of the stairs, with a ridiculous smile spread across his face, joy alighting his eyes and a spring in his step. There was laughter on his lips.

"She's here," he said in the softest voice ever, and there were tears as he embraced his friend. "She's finally here."

"Congratulations," I grinned as he hugged me, too.

"You should come and see her, she's the most darling little thing." John dried his eyes with the back of his hands.

"For now," Sherlock teased. "Wait until she's older and she's tearing the place apart."

John knocked on the door and I could hear Mary's soft voice saying, "Come in." Once we did, we saw her sitting in a rocking chair while my mother was changing the sheets, putting the dirty ones in a pile so that they could later be disposed of. Mrs Hudson was patting Mary's head with a cloth, trying to bring her temperature down a little.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her.

"Tired," she replied and managed a weak smile, stroking the baby's tiny cheek with her little finger. "But it's all worth it."

"She's beautiful, just like you."

"Good thing she's got her mother's nose," said John with a small grin, kneeling down beside her.

"But she'll have your eyes, no doubt," Mary pointed out. "They say their eyes change, but for now, they're a nice shade of blue."

I looked up at Sherlock, trying to figure out what he was thinking. He didn't say anything, but cocked his head to one side as he examined the tiny thing. While knowledgeable about a great many things, caring for a child was not one of them, and though he said he had taken a liking to Alice, I wasn't sure how he would handle one that made noise. On the bright side, tomorrow we would be leaving, so if the baby did cry, he would only have to endure it for one night, and chances are, we wouldn't see them often, so it would be less stressful.

As he looked down at her, she opened her tiny, heavy-lidded eyes and stared right back, her lips slightly parted, and a little sound came out of her mouth as if she were trying to say something to him. For a moment, I saw the corner of his lips twitch and his eyes blink rapidly, but he cleared his throat and quickly managed to pull himself together somewhat.

"You look exhausted," he said, reaching out to brush some hair out of Mary's face and then looked over at John. "You both do."

"We're fine, Holmes, just a bit tired from being awake so early."

"Why don't you rest for a few hours and Rosie could come down into the living room with us."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked, though I don't know if I said it out loud or not.

"Holmes, you do know that a baby's first few hours of life need to be spent with their mother and father, don't you?"

"Watson, how are you both going to look after the poor thing when you're both aching for rest?"

"You're not going to involve her in any of your crazy experiments, are you?" John raised an eyebrow. "You've already subjected poor Gladstone to your torture."

"Of course not!" He replied defensively, and smirked a little. "I don't even have my equipment with me."

"She will cry, you know that, right?"

"Well, it can't be any worse than the noise the two of you were making this morning."

"Sherlock," I scolded lightly.

"You can come into the bed now, Mary," Mrs. Hudson said softly, offering her hand. "It'll be much more comfortable on your back than the chair."

"John," Mary said, reaching out her other hand; as her husband helped her to stand, she said, "We could both use some sleep. Besides, when you deliver a baby at a hospital, there is always someone who looks after the baby and makes sure she gets some rest."

"Very well," John said with a resigned sigh. He gently took the baby from Mary and placed her in my arms. "I trust she'll be safe in your capable hands."

"She will," I assured him.

We managed to clear out a small basket that would make a perfect temporary bassinet for the baby to sleep in. I placed her into it, making sure she was all wrapped up and cozy, but it wasn't too long before she kicked her legs and held two tiny fists up by her face as she started to cry. I didn't know whether anyone had fed her yet, so I walked into the kitchen. Thankfully, Mrs Hudson was already preparing a bottle of milk.

"Mary told me that she had brought some, just in case."

"Good idea," I nodded, "though I have to admit, even though neither of us were expecting her to come today, I'm glad she did."

"As am I," she agreed. "I would have rather had them give birth here than on the train back home."

"It would definitely make the train look like a murder scene." I bit my cheek to keep from laughing too loudly, not that I had any fear of making any more noise, for even though Rosie was a tiny little thing, she had a pair of good, strong lungs on her. I half-expected John to come down the stairs and ask what was wrong, but either he fell asleep, or he figured his priority was to make sure that Mary got the rest she needed.

"Indeed." Mrs. Hudson handed me the bottle and I thanked her before going back into the living room where the baby suddenly stopped crying. Sherlock was sitting in the chair he had been in previously this morning, leaning over the bassinet, peering down at her and spoke softly. I didn't quite catch what he was saying, but at the mere sound of his voice the screams faded to mere whimpers. Pleased with this, he continued, but frowned when she whimpered quietly, looking quite distressed to be away from the safety and comfort of her mother's arms.

"I have some milk for her, maybe she's hungry." I reached down and ever so carefully transferred the baby from the bassinet to my arms, then sat in another chair, right by the window, and noticed there was a bit of a draft coming in from a tiny crack, where it had been opened slightly. "Would you mind closing that?"

He did and already, she seemed to relax in my arms, taking the milk with a sudden urgency. The look in her eyes was enough to tug at my own heart and it looked like she was going to start crying again.

"Stay right there," he said, before dashing up the stairs and retrieving his violin. Coming back down to the office, he stood over the basinet and began to play a traditional lullaby. The notes were long and flowing, and they floated through the melancholy house. He swayed with the swells and dips of the music he played for the baby who now slept soundly. Eventually, I started humming along, and the humming became singing.

When we realized she had finally stopped crying and had given herself up to sleep, we exchanged a brief look, though neither of us knew what the other was thinking, at this point we could only just assume. I slowly put the baby into the bassinet and wrapped her up so that she was nice and comfortable. I quietly brought the bottle into the kitchen and then came back, seeing my husband watching the baby, completely taken by her.

"Well, now I'm jealous," I teased with a soft laugh.

"Not to worry, sweet thing," he replied. "Tomorrow, I'm all yours."

"Thank goodness, I don't think I like the idea of having to fight for your attention."

"Come here," he said, holding his arms out and I walked right into them as they wrapped around my waist and pulled me onto the chair.

I was about to say something when I was interrupted by a yawn.

"If you really want me to play for you, all you have to do is ask."

"Please?" I begged, moving so that I was lying down and sure enough the music started again, not a lullaby, but something close to it and I too, slipped away into dreamland.

Later that afternoon, when Rosie had been reunited with her mother and father, we heard the front door opening, and voices chattering loudly with excitement, probably talking about the ballet. Alice came into the kitchen in the special dress that her mother had her wear for the occasion, her hair was in little ringlets down her back.

"How's Mary?" asked Simza who looked pretty worn out herself. She tried to get some of the snow out of her hair, but it wasn't working.

"She's resting right now. The baby was born just after eleven o'clock."

"Can we see her?" Alice asked, jumping up and down and I made a motion with my hands to talk softly.

"Maybe later," I said. "She's sleeping right now, so we should-"

"Sherly!" She cried, completely ignoring my plea, but I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt since she was excited about the ballet.

"Did you have fun?" He asked, picking her up off the floor and holding onto her.

She nodded and ruffled his hair. "We saw people ice skating on the pond. Can we go, Charlie?"

"It does sound like a good idea," Sherlock said to me, "and maybe it will allow the new family to have a few moments to themselves."

"Anyone up for it?" I asked, but almost everyone had taken off their coats and boots.

"No thanks," said Jane, "I've had enough excitement for one day."

"So have I," Aunt Daisy said, then turned to Aunt Lucy. "What about you?"

"I have an embroidery project that I need to finish, I thought I could give it to John and Mary for the baby's room."

"I will prepare us some dinner," said Mycroft.

Simza sat down on the couch and laughed lightly. "I'm a bit tired out, but you go ahead."

"I'm in," said Anne.

"I'll go with you," said William.

"Wait a minute, we don't have any ice skates," she said, as if all her hopes and dreams had been swept away.

"Actually, I think they're somewhere," said Aunt Daisy. "Check in the box over by the boots."

She went there and her eyes lit up when she saw a beautiful pair of white ice skates. "Yay! I found them!"

"Let's go!" said Arthur, opening the door, and before anyone could stop them, all of the children, including Archie, went out the door.

"Wait for me!" William called and he and Anne ran after them.

When we got to the rink, it was completely empty, but maybe since it was the middle of the afternoon, so it wasn't as crowded as it was earlier. Anne and William kept to one side with the children while Sherlock and I stayed on the other side.

Let me just tell you right now that skating is not one of my strong suits, I much preferred walking on solid ground than the slippery surface underneath me. But even then, it was funny whenever one of us would stumble and sometimes we would end up falling on top of each other.

"You know, you look a lot healthier than you were when I first met you." I said, glancing down at his eyes that weren't so sunk-in, and his face looked less shallow and pale. His cheekbones were more defined, and dare I say, that he managed to put on a few pounds instead of losing them."

"I blame that on the embalming fluid I accidentally ingested." I quirked an eyebrow and he chuckled. "Don't ask me how that happened; I still don't have a clue."

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," I said, brushing that unsettling comment aside. "but there'll be none of that when you're living with me, Mister Holmes."

"In that case, we will have to find some unfortunate corpse to be the test subject," he smirked and I shook my head. "Since my loving wife wants to keep me alive so badly."

I nodded and stood up. "I will never let you go again. I can promise you that."

"Would it be absolutely insane if I kissed you right now?" He asked, walking towards me.

"No," I replied, stepping back a few more paces. "but you'll have to catch me first."

I sprinted and laughing, he chased after me; everyone else was completely oblivious towards us.

"Where are you?" he called in a sing-song voice, and from behind the tree, I could see his almost predatory gaze searching for me. "Run all you want, I will find you. I will catch you."

"No, you won't," I said, trying to hide the nervous giggle.

"Yes, I will," he replied.

I watched as he searched behind every tree, except for the one I was hiding behind, so for a brief minute, it seemed like I was protected. I saw the children building a snowman while Jane and William continued to skate. It looked like Father and Uncle Charlie had joined them.

"Do you think hiding will save you from me? I know where you are." He sounded closer and I waited with bated breath. "Do you think you can escape?"

Scooting behind another tree, I got an idea. A positively awful and delightful idea. I narrowed my eyes and reached down to make a snowball. It wasn't perfectly round, but it would do. Taking aim, and waiting for my window of opportunity, I threw the snowball and it hit him directly on the chest and his head snapped toward me. I had just gotten to the point where I was between this tree and that tree, unfortunately, it was an open space.

"There you are!" With a gleam in his eyes, he sprinted toward me, cornering me against the back of the tree, and I felt his warm breath against my neck as he playfully growled in my ear. "I've got you now! You didn't think you could get away, did you?"

"No!" I shook my head, laughing as he continued to nuzzle his face in the crook of my neck. "You need to shave, you look like a mountain man!"

"Why, you little-" I ducked under his arm and ran a little ways before he chased after me, grinning as he captured me in his arms and turned me around to face him. "Now, where was that kiss I was promised?"

"Actually, it was you who promised me the kiss," I smiled, catching my breath and tucking some hair behind his ear.

"Right, I remember that." And with perfect accuracy to the end of a Spanish dance, he dipped me and kissed me passionately.

I blinked my eyes, trying to keep from yawning. Sherlock was right, the fresh air was bound to tire us out.

"Are you ready to go, my love?" he asked and I nodded, then he turned to the others, telling them it was time to head back to the mansion. I would never take these little moments for granted, not now, not ever. I would live each day as if it were the last day I would have him.

Not that I ever wanted that day to come.

Never again.

Wow, this was a fun little chapter to write, full of enough fluff and sweetness to rot our teeth, but in the good way! Anywho, there's more to come, so stay tuned!