Hi! I am so sorry for the lack of update and the short chapter. Things have been hectic with familial obligations. Thank you for being patient and I hope to start updating sooner!

Tishbing

Chapter Five

Mycroft Holmes finished his report but the memory of seeing Joan recently tugged his attention away. Their last meeting had ended amicably but he could see the strain on her. The poor attempt to mask her emotions that the military had instilled in her only went so far and to Mycroft, she had a certain fragility about her despite her strength.

The pregnancy had started to take a toll on her. It took a remarkable amount of restraint to not interfere further in her doings as he watched her working double shifts in the busy hustle of the A&E. She had kept her word though and had accepted meeting with him every other day for a cup of tea or a meal and it was always cordial but still stilted.

The sight of her meeting with Dr. Phillips was infuriating, to say the least. The man was clearly a manipulator of women and, though Joan had yet to respond with more than a friendly smile, it was unacceptable. A report had cleared him of suspicion of the dubious threat two weeks ago but had revealed a long list of women in similar positions to Watson's. Alone and pregnant from another and vulnerable.

It was a simple task of...no. He refused to interfere. Joan was not some naive child to be coddled.

Sighing, Mycroft's thoughts wandered to his brother. He had arranged a dead drop a week ago to tell him of the latest development with the doctor. He should be checking in...looking at his wristwatch, he was unsurprised when his desk phone rang.

"Brother mine." He answered. The sniff of disdain could be easily heard over the line.

"You never contact me unless it is urgent. What is it?"

The voice was rough, as if Sherlock had forgotten how to speak and was just relearning the ability. The decision of informing his younger brother of his child had been a difficult one but necessary. As it was, he had given up so much to keep those he cared for safe.

Mycroft had been frantic at the possibility of not being able to stop Watson from terminating the pregnancy. Memories of his youth at university with Giselle had made him move faster. She had been an exchange pupil from Nice. Her easy smile and quick wit had won him over in their political science class.

"There are...certain developments that you need to be aware of concerning your doctor."

A sharp inhale. "If she has been harmed due to your incompetence, brother..."

Trust Sherlock to go to the worst deduction. "She is unharmed. However-"

"Then anything else you have to tell me is irrelevant."

Mycroft sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sherlock-"

"I cannot risk distraction. This is already taking far longer than was estimated." He could hear the frustrated huff on the line. "This is the one request I made before accepting this assignment. Keep her safe and happy."

The line disconnected before Mycroft could respond and he had to restrain the urge to slam the receiver in frustration. His attempts to assist his brother were rarely received well. The pain from Giselle was still a barely healed wound that he wouldn't wish on his brother.

Their separation had been painful and bitter at the end. Her decision to terminate an unexpected pregnancy that had been his had caused him to shut off and become every bit the "Ice Man" she had accused him of. They had argued and fought over her decision and it had broken their relationship beyond repair.

When she had told him, he had been elated but concerned. They were still in school, young and naive but he knew that he was up to the challenge. She had asked for space and Mycroft had allowed it. By the time she had returned it had been too late. He had barely had time to come to terms with being a father before the chance had been ripped away. Giselle had left back to France and Mycroft had turned cold and distant, cynical in every aspect.

A knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. It opened, revealing his PA. Quickly schooling his features into a neutral expression, he reached out, accepting the report on Syrian troop movements.

"Sir, I scheduled an early lunch if you wanted to attend Dr. Watson's sonogram at 11. Apparently, Dr. Phillips attempted to attend but was refused and Dr. Watson is going alone."

His eyes skimmed the report, committing the pertinent facts to memory while the woman stood patiently near his desk. He didn't miss the added subtext that she had added unnecessarily to encourage his involvement to support the doctor nor did he not notice her clear interest in pairing them together.

"Thank you."

Anthea smiled, a flash of bright teeth and it only served to remind him why he had hired her.

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The next two hours went by quickly and Mycroft had to admit to a small amount of anxiety and excitement at seeing the doctor again.

He was checking the time, noticing that Joan was late when he saw her walking in. Now that it was mid-October, Joan had reached 17 weeks and was not very successful at disguising her pregnancy any longer. Even though he could see the lines of stress marring her face she still seemed to have a glow about her.

Today she had a light blue knit maternity shirt with black slacks and her lab coat. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders and he could see she was uncomfortable. Her posture was defensive, head down, shoulders hunched as she hurried to check in at the reception desk.

He watched as she turned and was pleasantly surprised when her eyes spotted him. A small smile quirked the corners of her mouth and she shook her head good-naturedly as she made her way to sit next to him.

"Why am I not surprised." She told him as she sat, her hand reaching back to rub her hip.

He simply raised an eyebrow and smiled. Watson snorted. "Isn't there supposed to be an election you're fixing or a war you're supposed to start?"

Mycroft turned in his seat and fixed her with an intense look, hoping to get her attention. Joan's eyes met his and she swallowed nervously. He reached out and grabbed her hands in his, holding tighter as she reflexively pulled away. "What could be more important, at this moment, than seeing my nephew or niece for the first time. To be there for you as you see your child and support you during this trying time."

A corner of her mouth quirked in a small smile and she nodded in understanding, relaxing her hands and allowing Mycroft to release her on his terms.

"Besides," Mycroft sniffed. "Elections aren't until next year."

Joan huffed a small laugh and leaned back in her seat.

They sat in comfortable silence, watching the room until they were called. He was careful to walk behind Joan as they moved to the room and waited for her to give him a verbal cue to allow him to attend this appointment.

He wasn't disappointed when she rolled her eyes and told him that he may as well get in because he'll just find out anyway. Mycroft couldn't help but chuckle at the doctor. So few people talked to him like that. Like he was a person, an equal.

Joan climbed up to the bed and laid back, her fingers fluttering at the hem of her shirt while Mycroft crossed his legs and struggled with his own nerves.

"Right, now Miss Watson, my name is Keeley and I'll be performing your sonogram."

Mycroft allowed his gaze to take in the technician assigned to Dr. Watson's care and he couldn't quite disguise his dissatisfaction. The girl was-a sharp tap on his arm from Joan stopped him from his thoughts and left him scowling but silent and Joan smirked and turned back to the technician.

"And this must be dad!" Keeley smiled and Joan's face became brittle and still.

Clearing his throat, Mycroft corrected her. "No. I am, however, the child's uncle and I am Doctor Watson's support at present."

The woman flushed in embarrassment and nodded. "Sorry. If you'll lift up your shirt and lower your trousers a bit, I can start some measurements."

Joan lifted her shirt and Mycroft had to stifle his surprise. He had seen her growing but it had never been more evident than it was now. The swell of her abdomen was pronounced. His hand itched to touch her and feel the proof of it, of life growing.

Keeley turned and smiled, pouring gel on Joan's belly while she hissed at the cold temperature and then the transducer wand was placed. A rapid whooshing filled the room. "There's baby's heartbeat. Nice and strong."

Joan smiled and Mycroft couldn't help but smile back

"My own guided tour of my uterus." Joan snorted and nudged Mycroft, pointing at the screen above the tech's head.

"And there's the little one!" With one hand, the tech took measurements while the other continuously maneuvered the wand over Joan's belly. Mycroft couldn't help the gasp that left him at the sight. He could see the head, a nose, tiny fingers and toes that looked perfect.

He was rarely jealous of his brother but right now was one of those occasions. He watched the monitor saving every detail. He wondered if his child would have looked the same during a sonogram had Giselle chosen a different path.

Joan was staring at the screen, silent and still save for tears falling. Her face showed every single feeling and right now it was a terrible mix of anguish and excitement, pain and awe, and it was frustrating to see her go through this. It should have been an happy moment but the pain of her believing she was alone dragged her down. He resolved to make it as painless as possible from this moment forward.

"Would you like to know the gender? I can tell you right now." Keeley hovered uncertainly, her smile clearly painted on in an attempt at a cheerful disposition. Ever ready, Mycroft pulled out an handkerchief and Joan accepted it, dabbing her eyes.

"Um..sure." Joan straightened her shoulders and squared her jaw.

"It's a boy!" Keeley pointed out the identifying features and Joan gave a watery smile. Mycroft was going to have a nephew. He wondered if the child would take after the doctor or be more like his brother. He hoped that the child would inherit the doctor's patience at the minimum. Holmes genes tended to be rather formidable.

"Thank you." Watson's voice was rough but steady.

The tech printed a few images and left, allowing Joan a moment of privacy to collect herself. Her eyes were averted and she turned away from Mycroft, clearly embarrassed at her lack of control.

"You shouldn't be ashamed, Joan. It's perfectly understandable."

"It's these stupid hormones."

He knew that wasn't the case but allowed the lie.

"Thank you for being here." Joan murmured. It was so quiet, he had hardly heard her.

"Of course."

Joan pulled her top down and quickly stood up. "I'd better get back to work." Pulling on her white coat, she hesitated at the sonogram images. She held them, biting her lip and looked at them.

"I don't know if you want one but...here." She pressed the picture in his hand and left before he could stop her. It was tempting to follow but she needed time to process and he could respect that.

He tucked the picture away and was leaving when his phone went off reminding him of his other responsibilities. Sighing, Mycroft left the room and pulled on the mask of indifference he had mastered over the years, the only hint of being human residing in his wallet. The small grainy image of Dr. Watson's and Sherlock's child.