Chapter twenty-three: If you asked me to

I groaned and squeezed more water out of my hair. "I can't believe it."

"It was an accident." Sherlock assured me as he opened the front door.

"You threw me into the lake!" I snapped, even though I wasn't truly angry with him. "And don't lie to me and say that! I know you did it on purpose!"

"Well, you were going to get paint on you. I spared you the trouble of ruining your dress."

I drew his coat tighter around me. "Sherlock, as you insisted that I don't wear corsets anymore thanks to your requests, when the water hit my white dress I came up nude!"

He grinned and pulled his coat from my shoulders, dropping it to the floor before pressing me against the door. "I noticed."

I tossed my head and murmured. "Idiot."

He simply leaned forward and kissed me. Sherlock Holmes and I were unashamed in showing the world that we had affection for each other. We'd been married for almost six months now, if I included the days prior to us consummating our marriage. It had been a wonderful teaser of a long life ahead with Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock and I worked hard, grooming 221B Baker Street into a house suitable for a private detective, yet fit for a family at some point in the late future.

We were a strange couple. Sherlock let me do pretty much whatever I wanted now. It was unusual how I thought that he'd be the kind to keep me on a 'leash' like some husbands. However, Sherlock let me help him with cases; I could wear whatever loud colors I wanted. I realized that the louder the color on the dress, the more Sherlock appreciated me. We both weren't bound by society's rules and conventions about silly things. If Sherlock wanted to kiss me in public, he did it. I'll never forget finding Sherlock his deep blue coat, which he loved, he wore it everywhere now. My body still ached as I recalled him thanking me for that coat in a blushingly intimate way.

"Oh Sherlock," Mycroft said drolly forcing us to separate slowly. "you two are late…and wet."

I groaned. "You have horrible timing."

"Actually, its perfect timing. We have company, and you two are a mess. Tammy is," he cleared his throat and shifted his gaze away from me. "well, rather wetly exposed since you requested that she not wear a corset anymore." I wrapped my arms around my chest, while scowling at Mycroft. "Go upstairs, get dressed and try to get down here in a timely fashion."

Sherlock picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder. "We were heading that way anyway." He moved towards the stairs and I shook my head in dismay as Sherlock added mischievously. "However, we might be late for dinner, feel free to start without us."

Somehow, Sherlock and I were able to make it downstairs an hour later looking somewhat decent. My hair, I had cut it a little shorter, so it always hung loosely down my back. Besides, Sherlock was always messing my hair up when it was pinned up, this way, no one could tell what he was up to with me.

We entered the dining room and all eyes went to us. "Sherlock! Tammy!" Mrs. Holmes said with a smile as Sherlock nudged me towards our designated seats. "There you two are! I thought you two got home an hour ago."

"We had to have a bath." I explained. "Sherlock got paint on himself and I got…knocked into a lake."

"And by knocked," Mycroft stated. "you mean Sherlock pushed you into the lake."

"I prefer my wife's hair color brown, as opposed to green. Simple choice really." I sat down and Sherlock sat down beside me as the butler began serving the meat, potatoes and vegetables. I was hungry and the scalloped potatoes looked delicious. "Are you sure you want to eat those?" Sherlock murmured in my ear as I place a scoop onto my plate. "They're full of starch."

I stopped in place and turned slowly to look at him. "Are you implying that I'm gaining weight?"

Mycroft let out a guffaw. "This is going to be good. I wish I had popped corn for this moment little brother."

Mrs. Holmes heard that and asked. "What moment would require popcorn Mikey?"

"Sherlock just implied that Tammy shouldn't eat her potatoes because they're full of starch." Now everyone at the table was looking at us. "I'm awaiting his answer."

Sherlock frowned. "Well, Tammy has been putting on a few pounds," everyone groaned as my eyes bulged. "so I tactfully asked if she wanted to eat her potatoes."

John shook his head as I snapped. "What's wrong with me putting on a few pounds?"

"I just assumed you were a woman who was conscious of her figure," tears sprang into my eyes. "and I was only commenting so." He frowned. "Why are you crying?"

"You really don't know?" I blubbered out as my tears began flowing faster. "You honestly don't know?"

"Mother said I should never make remarks about a woman's figure, but as you and I are always honest with each other, I'd decided to state my question honestly." He blinked and asked. "Not good?"

"Well unfortunately for you," I sniffled as I tried wiping my cheeks. "I'm going to gain a lot more weight."

He frowned. "Why? That's not like you"

"Because…I'm going to be having your baby," Sherlock blinked once. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes!" I shook my hands uselessly. "You honestly didn't know?" Sherlock blinks rapidly several times but other than that, he doesn't move or react. In fact, Sherlock is perfectly motionless. "Sherlock?" but Sherlock doesn't react. He's like frozen in time, staring blindly out into space. The silence drags on for long seconds. "This is actually getting a bit scary now." Sherlock didn't respond so I grabbed my glass of water and threw it in his face. Sherlock spluttered to life as I jumped out of my seat. "Oh, for God's sake! If you can't even-

Sherlock jumped up and said. "Are you sure?"

"Just look at her stomach, little brother," Mycroft said blandly. "you'll see that she's almost four months pregnant. Got a little enthusiastic, didn't you, in this recent attachment of yours?"

John 'accidentally' knocked his water into Mycroft's food. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

Mycroft nodded curtly. "Indeed."

"Shut up Mycroft." Mr. Holmes ordered. "This is a private moment."

"That," Mycroft muttered. "is on display for everyone."

Sherlock grabbed his full wine glass and chucked it across the table at Mycroft without even tearing his gaze away from me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and stepped towards me as I shifted slightly. Sherlock's gaze was deep and penetrating as he began to study my body, looking for the small changes that he'd deduced as weight gain. There is only silence in the room as Sherlock just studies me silently. Sherlock's eyes narrow as he runs a hand down my abdomen, checking my body for any changes that he's missed. I smile as his hands pause on my stomach. His dexterous fingers have finally located the small lump that proves that my stomach is beginning to expand.

I whisper quietly. "Sherlock…we are in the dining room and you are….touching me rather…intimately."

"That's true." He mumbles as he continues his investigation. "But, you're my wife, so, it's completely respectable."

I shake my head. "Fine, continue by all means." After a few moments, he pulled away and looked at me. I cleared my throat. "Well?"

He didn't say anything. He simply took my hand and tugged me out of the room. Everyone let out murmurs of concern as Sherlock and I walked out of the living room, upstairs to our room and out onto the balcony. Sherlock released my hand and looked upwards at the stars for a moment before turning towards me. I wasn't sure what to expect with him, after all, most men acted unusually when they realized that they were going to be fathers. Sherlock, however, I wasn't certain how he'd react.

He pulled me towards him, pressing my head against his chest, while his hand stroked my hair. He didn't have to say anything; I could feel what he wanted to say in every little gesture. However, what he did say surprised me. "I wish your father were here." I frowned and looked up at him. "Because…if he were," Sherlock leaned forward to kiss me. "I'd thank him for persuading the most wonderful woman in the world to marry me." I smiled as he kissed me; I clung to him as he pressed me against him. "You're the wonder of wonders."

"If you say so."

"I know so."

After several moments of his intoxicating kisses and soft words, I pull away from him. "We should go back downstairs."

"Can't we just stay here?" he says. "It's a nice night and I'd really prefer to spend it up here with you instead of those idiots downstairs?"

I roll my eyes as he pulls me down onto the chaise lounge. I snuggle against him. "As you wish." I exhale and close my eyes as he continues stroking my hair.

"If we'd met of our own accord," Sherlock questioned. "do you think we would have gotten married?"

I smile as I reach up and run my hand through his hair. "In a heartbeat, if you asked me to."

And...it's over. I'm sorry about the delay, but as always with a story you're having fun with, you never want it to end. But, the good news is, I've got another Sherlock/Tammy story in mind. This time, it's set in the Tudor time period and yes, I was somewhat inspired by Benedict's performance in the other Boleyn girl, but I don't have much of the plot worked out yet. But, I've included a teaser below.

In my anger, I grabbed a handful of snow and wadded it into a snowball. I threw it at a tree, but missed. As I picked up another handful of snow, I heard a man shout. "OW!" All my anger dissipated as I realized that I had hit some unsuspecting person, probably upside the head with a snowball!

A man came stomping out of the woods; his expression was one of annoyance. I couldn't tell much of his physic, as he was bundled up. However, his face was extremely angular and his cheekbones were prominently sharp.

"Who are you?" He demanded. "And why are you throwing snowballs at me?"

Now, I was indignant. He thought I did it on purpose! I didn't even see him! "My name is Lady Tamera Trenowyth. Who are you?"

His brow arched in curiosity, as if he were surprised that I didn't know him. He crossed his arms across his chest. "Sherlock Holmes."

I arch a brow. "And? Is that supposed to mean something?" Now, he looked amused. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"You should be."

"Well, I'm not!"

That's as long as a teaser as you're going to get. Sorry. Also, we are getting a petition together to get Fanfiction to grant writer's the power to remove reviews. If you're interested in helping out, please, give me permission to add your name to the petition. If you want to do more, PM your friends and let them know. The more people involved, the better.