"Sherlock for heaven's sake, be reasonable!"
"Piss-off, Mycroft!"
"But the child is a Holmes! He must be brought up properly with all the social privileges that being a Holmes confers!"
"'The child' is a Watson too Mycroft! And don't preach to me about parenting as if you know anything about it!"
"Sherlock, listen to me−"
Mycroft's words were cut off abruptly by a furious Sherlock. "No Mycroft!" he spat out. "You listen to me! John and I are married, he honoured me with that commitment and it wasn't easy for him! So I will not pressure him to bond with me no matter how much I may want it, or you − especially you − may want it. Of course I want to be his bonded mate, believe me I want it more than anyone, but I will not put John in the position of feeling he has to bond to please me! You will never understand, Mycroft, how much John's freedom means to him−and by extension means to me! Every morning when I wake up to find him still beside me; I know that it is because he has made a choice to be there, not because he is trapped by a bond. And that, Mycroft, means more to me than anything in this world. Now, I will say no more! There is the door. Show yourself out!"
John, home unexpectedly early that afternoon unbeknownst to Sherlock, was awoken from his nap in the bedroom by their raised voices. He began to rise from bed only to stop still in astonishment at hearing Sherlock's angry words; he could hardly believe his ears! He'd had no idea that that's how Sherlock felt. How could he have missed this? Sherlock certainly had kept his feelings well hidden.
John heard Mycroft hiss in irritation but since Sherlock was evidently refusing to say anything further, he left, closing the door behind him with a barely restrained click. He hadn't been gone a minute before John was further surprised to hear the sudden loud thump of Sherlock's fist hitting the table accompanied by a frustrated curse. Sherlock then rose and strode to the door; there was a momentary silence while he pulled his greatcoat from its hook before he left the flat, slamming the door behind him.
Tears formed in John's eyes when he thought of the sacrifice and the consideration his husband was showing him. Then he smiled. The solution was so very easy.
He made his way to the kitchen where he boiled the kettle for a cup of tea. Glowing with happiness he carried his mug to the sofa where he opened a book and sat down to wait for Sherlock to return. He did not wait for long. It was not half an hour later that Sherlock strode into the flat looking, to John's surprise, relaxed and pleased with himself. He had a bag of take-away Chinese under his arm and upon seeing John smiling at him from the sofa; shucked off his coat, tossed it vaguely in the direction of its hook on the back of the door and made straight for John.
He enfolded John in a tender hug, being careful not to squeeze him too hard and murmured in his ear, "Home early? Dinner? May I feed you and the babies some of your favourite wontons?"
John smiled with pleasure and allowed his adoring husband to hand-feed him the wontons. One thing led to another and before long the wontons were being alternated with kisses and not long after that, they were set down on the coffee table and forgotten all together.
Later when they were cuddling under their duvet, John tracing the outline of one of Sherlock's well-defined pectoral muscles and Sherlock stroking the soft rounding of John's belly, John spoke. "Sherlock, I want to confide something in you."
"Mmmm? What is it?"
"Well, from the time I was young, very young, I dreamed about having a strong and loving mate and lots of children, you know, fairy tale stuff." He smiled. "I was different; maybe it was being a Gaia, I don't know, but I liked who I was, I wasn't resentful like some of the other omega, I was optimistic and excited for a future of marriage and a family." He looked away. "After I was married to Harvey, of course, I gave up those dreams. And I mourned their loss as much as anything else during those years."
Sherlock made a sound of distress; he found John being unhappy about anything to be unbearable.
John looked up at Sherlock and stroked his cheek. "Then I met you and everything changed – I caught myself dreaming again, Sherlock. I didn't do it on purpose, I didn't even want to because I thought it was impossible but I couldn't stop myself. I began having the same dream as when I was a child; the dream of a mate and children to love and nurture. The only difference was that now my mate had a face." John looked into Sherlock's eyes, a dreamy expression in his own. "Your face, Sherlock."
"You heard Mycroft and me arguing."
John was now stroking Sherlock's curls absently. "Hmmmm, yes and I'm glad I did. Otherwise I would never have said anything because I didn't think you wanted to bond with me."
At Sherlock's pained expression he said, "I'm sorry Sherlock, but sometimes I'm still insecure. I should know better by now; you treat me with so much love, like I'm the most important person in the world. And I'm getting better, I am, but sometimes I still doubt myself."
"I take that as a challenge John, so I will try even harder." Sherlock winked at John then sobered. "I treat you like the most important person in the world, John, because you are. You and the babies together. You are my world John. It used to be different before you came into my life but now there's only you and I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Then will you bond with me, Sherlock? It is the only thing that could possibly make me any happier than I am already. Please?"
Sherlock was anxious. "Are you sure John? Let me look at you. I have to know that you really want this for yourself and not for me." He held John's face gently in order to study him carefully. John knew better than to attempt to communicate anything other than the truth under the scrutiny of that all-seeing, ice-blue gaze. He bore it with equanimity for there was nothing to hide and everything to share.
After a long look, Sherlock broke into a happy smile and began to plant excited kisses on John's face interspersed with eager exclamations of, "Yes! Yes, John. And soon, is that alright?"
At John's enthusiastic nod, he dropped his head to the crook of John's neck and began to laugh, part in giddy joy and part in real mirth.
John grinned, Sherlock's laugh was infectious, and asked, "What?"
"I caught up with Mycroft after he left this afternoon and threatened that if he ever so much as hinted to you that I wanted a bond, I would play the video I have of him singing karaoke at Grannie's 80th birthday. I told him he could look forward to his moving rendition of "To All the Girls I've Loved Before," being played on the wall of the Diogenes Club on 'all members day'. At full volume."
John goggled for a moment, as if trying to envision the picture, and then began to laugh too.