Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes belong to Sir ACD and in this reincarnation Moffat, Gatiss and the BBC. We own nothing and are only writing this for fun.
Tell Me This Night Is Over.
Chapter Eleven.
Hours passed with Sherlock sleeping like the dead but, just at the onset of twilight, he began twitching and his head started jerking, his breathing growing heavy and fast.
John put down the book he'd picked up after he'd woken up and began to run his fingers through Sherlock's hair, scratching lightly at his scalp hoping to wake him up gently if Sherlock was having a bad dream. "It's okay Sherlock, it's all fine."
Sherlock's head jerked violently back, a sound of denial breaking from his throat before he flung his body backwards in his sleep, rolling off the bed and impacting with the floor. Which of course woke him up, a gasp like that of a man coming up for air breaking from his lips as he jerked up into a defensive crouching position automatically until he noticed his location.
"Good morning, or evening rather." John's voice was warm with affection. He wanted to ask Sherlock if he was alright but it was clear he wasn't. John knew firsthand how crippling and utterly devastating dreams could be and he ached for Sherlock that he had to have them. He would just have to do everything he could to replace Sherlock's nightmares with good dreams.
Sentinel shuffled so he was hanging off the side of the bed, sniffing at Sherlock on the floor.
Sherlock cleared his throat, voice a little rougher than usual, "John." He hauled his body off the floor to sit on the bed again, patting Sentinel absently when the dog nearly stuck his nose in his ear. He moved so that he was brushing against John's side again.
"Hi there." John turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to Sherlock's temple. "Tea? I have a thermos right here by the bed." John had most of his life surrounding him in the bedroom, it was horribly, terribly boring being stuck flat on his back in bed.
The corners of Sherlock's lips twitched. John, dear, sweet, wonderfully predictable John and his belief that tea solves everything. He pressed his face to John's neck, "Not at present." His nose twitched a bit, "Herbal tea, soothing and digestive aid. Ginger and chamomile, the scent is in your collar so you spilled a bit earlier."
"Ah yes, thank you for pointing out by dribbling." John was grinning. "I'm afraid it's all herbal right now, Benjamin and caffeine is not a good combination for anyone. You should have tasted the swill I drunk before Dr. Weisz showed me the light though." It was nice seeing Sherlock smile again, even if it only was a twitch of lips. "He told me he was the one who delivered you."
"Mmm, yes." Sherlock laid his hand over the swell of John's stomach, once more covered by his jumper. "Mother spoke about that quite often during small gatherings where he'd been invited. I'd not seen him since before leaving for uni." It had been...interesting to see the old doctor again despite the scathing lecture he'd delivered.
"He's been wonderful, I was lucky that he took me on as a patient." John covered Sherlock's hand with his own. "Sarah's a damn good doctor but she's not a surgeon and getting this little one out of me will be a wee bit complicated."
Sherlock made a sound that tred the line between concern and acknowledgement, "But he's your surgeon so you and the baby will be fine," it held an undertone of unconscious demand. He really couldn't countenance anything but John and their son coming through the delivery safely; if he so much as tried he'd lose his mind. His fingers wiggled and twitched absently, "Why Benjamin?"
John twisted again and met Sherlock's eyes. "Really? You can't tell? Can't deduce it?"
"Not for Benjamin. Johannes is obvious, the astronomer and mathematician really John," he tutted, "But there are too many meanings to Benjamin, too much data."
John chuckled and the tut but grew serious again quickly. "I thought about it and tried to think of names that would matter to you, that you would approve of. Benjamin for Benjamin Franklin and as you so very correctly stated, Johannes for Johannes Kepler. And yes...Johannes might be me thumbing my nose at you ever so slightly."
Sherlock nuzzled John's nose with his, silent apology, "They're good names and far less likely to inspire playground bullying than the sort of names my brother and I were saddled with."
"Hm, your brother suggested Sherrinford." John smiled and gave Sherlock a quick kiss. "You do have a say you know, if you have any other names you would like our son to have then tell me." John had believed that he was on his own; he didn't want Sherlock to feel excluded. It was a difficult situation but it was all worth it to have Sherlock there with him.
"Mycroft is a tit." Sherlock's eyes flickered in irritation and he set a reminder to annoy his brother for the suggestion of Sherrinford, bastard. Then he set it to the side and shook his head, "I like them. In Hebrew Benjamin means son of my right hand and Johannes is a German derivative of John, meaning God is gracious," he lifted his free hand and smoothed down a rogue tuft of John's hair, "Both are appropriate."
"Well I am glad you approve, I've kind of grown attached to the names of Benny-Jo here." John's eyes sparkled as he used the nickname Sarah had mentioned. "I didn't know that Benjamin meant that though, now I'm even surer it's a fitting name for a Holmes...Well Watson- Holmes. And yes, Mycroft is definitely a tit, hence King Tit. He has been...less annoying that he could be about my pregnancy though, it might be because I think he's a bit afraid of Sarah."
A twitch at the nickname was all that Sherlock displayed in possible disapproval before he gave a rumbling chuckle, "That is a pleasant thought. Mycroft afraid of Sarah, she is startlingly formidable, surprising." He sounded pleased.
"Why is that surprising?" John was curious. "I could see right away that she was and is a wonderful person." That was why he'd done the misguided attempt at dating her, there were no lingering feelings though, they had both realized their mistake very quickly on. "She's the best friend you can imagine, without her...pushing and support I would never have gotten by."
"A good person, a good friend yes. That is not the surprising part." His fingers trailed down John's jaw in a soft, absent stroke, stubble prickling under his touch, "Rather she thwarted Mycroft, stood up to thwart him. That is surprising. I know of only three other people not related to him or who did not see him in short pants who are capable of standing up to Mycroft."
"I applaud everyone that thwarts Mycroft in any way; he needs to be thwarted so that he doesn't grow complacent." John shivered underneath Sherlock's touch; he'd missed it so much, longed for it and thought it lost. "I gave her kick arse boots for Christmas...I think you became intimately introduced to them."
"Indeed," it was a dry drawl. He'd noticed the shiver and firmed his touch, giving to John without words. "Steel toes, workman grade, half a stone in weight. If she wears them often she'll gain defined muscle tone similar to a dancer's legs." Rapid fire deduction as was his wont, "Fortunately no permanent damage was suffered."
"Truly fortunate indeed." John was leaning into Sherlock's touches like a touch starved kitten. He couldn't help it. Without Sherlock, life was misery; John needed Sherlock in every aspect of his life. "I've missed you Sherlock...so much."
Something clicked into place in Sherlock's head, a realization that had been stewing and twisting and building for months. He pressed his brow against John's, his hand curving around his neck, "I know. I am sorry," he turned the hand on John's stomach, lacing their fingers together, "I was wrong," an unheard of admission from Sherlock, "I was so wrong."
"I wasn't blaming you or trying to make you feel guilty." John nuzzled Sherlock's cheek with his nose. "I know why you did what you did...It hurt, not going to lie, it nearly killed me but I do understand. From now on though...it's you and me, doing it together."
"Yes. But I meant it, I was wrong. I...don't know how to explain this. I apologize if what I say is not good," He tried to gather the chaos of his head into coherent words, "I needed you, I wanted and needed you to know the truth, that I was alive, but I let everything get tangled...I didn't think. I just reacted and kept reacting." He'd not once slowed down in the time he was gone, constantly on the move, constantly working, never really resting even when asleep, and never having any sort of respite even inside his own mind. John had always been his respite from the world at large but he'd cut himself off from that, from even the certainty that John was thinking of him and believing in him. He'd in effect cut off his right hand, a necessary component of his being.
"It's good, I hear you." John wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around Sherlock, kissing his neck, his jaw line, behind his ear. "I get it I do, you are a part of me...I'm a part of you, as cliché as it might sound. It's been a while but I think I'm still pretty fluent in Sherlock. I love you, you gorgeous nutter. I always will and I will not let you go again. From this moment on, where you go...I go."
He nodded, his arms slipping around John in an equal embrace. Later would be a discussion about the work and balance and family. Right now was building bridges and mending what had been torn. His lips brushed over whatever skin was in front of them tenderly, "You always knew. From the start John. You defied everything I'd been conditioned to expect from anyone and understood." It still caused a strange flutter, how John hadn't insulted him for his deductions or assumed he'd been the murderer, or attacked him for the stunt with the phone.
"You nearly knocked me on my arse that first day. You shine Sherlock and I knew that if I could help you shine...even in the slightest, as the conductor you say that I am then my life would be of use." John didn't really know how to explain himself, unlike Sherlock he wasn't brilliant or well spoken, he could only be himself.
Sherlock squeezed him, not hard, just a light squeeze around the shoulders, "Of use? You're essential. John you don't just conduct my light, you keep me from burning myself up."
"Always will, even when you get all stroppy I will never stop taking care of you. Starting with feeding you and make sure you sleep." John tried to sound stern but even he could hear the smile in his voice.
Certainly Sherlock heard it and it made him smile as well before his phone's alarm began to go off, making him stiffen in attention before controlling his body's urge to leap downstairs to check his experiment. It wasn't a volatile experiment and he could easily restart it. He was comfortable right where he was.
"Go if you want, I know what your experiments mean to you. I'll be right here, in this same spot when you get back." John pecked Sherlock on the forehead. "You are free to do whatever you fancy down there in that moist basement but you live here...better remember that."
He brushed his lips over John's quickly, "Not possible to forget. This one won't take long actually. I'm measuring the absorption ratio of the sodium polyacrylate crystals found in disposable diapers." That said he was off the bed, out of the room, and heading downstairs in a flurry.
Shaking his head, John ran his hands over his belly. "You're daddy is a real nutter Benny-Jo, amazing though. You are going to love him so much, just as I do." He leaned back against the headboard, petting Sentinel as the dog stole Sherlock's spot, snuggling close.
oOo
Sarah came up the stairs and stepped into the flat then froze at the smell already filling the air. It resembled baking bread, melted cheese, and ham. She looked into the kitchen and dropped the grocery bags as she saw Sherlock standing there at the stove, a turning spatula in hand. "What are you doing?"
Sherlock glanced over his shoulder at her, "Dinner."
She blinked and walked closer to peer around him at the panini's cooking on the grill frying pan, "You can cook."
"Of course I can cook, it's simple chemistry and timing."
"Ooookay," she backed away and went up to see if John was aware of what was going on in his kitchen and to take Sentinel out for his walk, "John there's a genius in your kitchen."
"I'm aware." John beamed at his friend. "I think it's a first time without there being body parts in there with him. Smells nice though, doesn't it?" He watched Sen dive off the bed and attack Sarah with kisses and a madly wagging tail.
She pet and scratched the dog into a puddle of bliss while looking at John, that beaming smile just about making her melt into a puddle of relief and happiness herself. "So he's there with your approval then?"
"He is." John nodded. "I had another dream, one of the bad ones and when I woke up I realized I'd wasted enough time. Sherlock is alive and I am not going to lose out on one more single day with him, life is much too short for that."
She smiled then, "You already look...brighter. Not that you looked dull before but I think you know what I mean."
"I know exactly what you mean. Life without Sherlock...It's like surviving in a gray scale, nothing really sparks but with him...It's like setting up house on the fucking rainbow." John returned her smile, hoping she would get it because he couldn't explain it any better.
She got it but at the same time it was funny, two men, setting up house on a rainbow. The pun was right there but she wouldn't make it. She did giggle though. "I'll tell Chryssa to start coming up here instead of down in C then." Off John's confused look, "A neo-natal nurse who's been teaching Sherlock how to care for a baby."
"Christ almighty...This Chryssa person must have the patience of a saint." John loved Sherlock with every fiber in his being but he also knew him and knew how he could appear to people he wasn't close to. "Still...he's willing to learn..." John's smile was utterly besotted.
"Willing? I have never, not once in all the time I've been practicing or even alive seen a prospective father so eager to learn everything he can about taking care of a child." She perched on the edge of the bed and pat John's hand, "And this was before he was certain if you'd let him in to your and Benny-Jo's lives."
John's smile turned a little sad. "No matter what could have happened between the two of us I would never have kept him out of his son's life...He must know that right?" He gave Sarah a look. "Still I've never met anyone as eager to learn all he can as Sherlock, as long as he deems it important that is, otherwise he just deletes it."
She squeezed his hand, "Intellectually and consciously I don't doubt he knows you'd never have kept him from Ben but...I don't know him John, certainly not like you do, but the subconscious is a funny thing and it seems to me that he might just expect for what makes him happy to be taken away once he makes a mistake. A sort of ingrained fear, I could be wrong though," she shrugged, "Like I said I don't really know him. You do though so it's what you think that matters. Now, I'm going to put the groceries I brought by up then take Sentinel for his walkies."
That word sent the dog into a tailspin, barking in joy and turning in circles in front of Sarah. John couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, I'm not giving Sherlock up now that I have him, my genius and I intend to keep it that way, as long as he wants me, he has me, no matter what."
"Alright then. The beast and I will be back soon," She smiled and got up, looking down at the dog, "Alright Sentinel, go get your leash." The lab bounded off like a shot and she followed with a short wave to John.
Not long after Sherlock came back in, a tray of the ham, cheese, cucumber, and basil panini's and steaming cups of the freshly brewed herbal tea in his hands.
"Mm, that smells absolutely amazing." John sniffed the air in pleasure, he loved basil and he could feel his mouth water. "Now that I know of your hidden culinary skills I will not hesitate to use them." He smiled up at the love of his life. "You'll share the meal with me right?"
Sherlock set the tray down and opened his mouth to say that he wasn't hungry but something in that look stopped him. The times that he'd ached to have John there nagging him to eat flashed through his mind and he found himself settling beside him, "Perhaps some."
John's eyes softened and warmed and he gave Sherlock a beaming smile. "Good, I will settle for some, some is good and fine." He patted the empty spot on the bed next to him. "Dinner time, first shared meal in nearly a year, that's worth celebrating." He looked around until he found a lighter and lit a tea candle on the bedside table. "There...Angelo would be proud."
A laugh rumbled in Sherlock's chest as he scooted closer to John, "He knows his business. It is more romantic, sentiment," the word held fondness rather than derision. Between him and John sentiment was a good thing. It was the rest of the world who made less so.
"Romance...What a strange word really. It can be whatever you want it to be. Romance isn't the same for any couple." John's smile stayed in place. "What I do know though, is that candle light makes you even more beautiful, it takes my breath away." He reached out and traced his fingertips over a sharp cheekbone.
He leaned into it, his eyes half closing like some great cat being stroked, "Hyperbole. I would be most distressed if your breath truly disappeared."
"Hm, we'll both have to do our best to keep that from actually happening then, for either of us." John continued with his soft caresses until a very loud, very embarrassing growl from his stomach made him drop his hand and reach for one of the panini's instead. They really did smell divine.
Sherlock picked up his mug of tea and sipped. He would have preferred black tea but so long as John had to drink the herbal he didn't want to put temptation within his reach. He watched as John took a bite, hoping that he enjoyed the food. He'd calculated a balanced nutritive meal that would nourish both John and their son best for the particular meal and time of day however he was aware that taste mattered and if it didn't taste good to John he'd wind up picking at the food and not really eating.
"Mmm and it tastes even better than it smells, oh yes, definitely going to take advantage of this cooking thing." John grinned at Sherlock and licked his lips, savoring the taste of melted cheese, crispy bread, ham and fresh basil. It was wonderful. John couldn't wait to actually sit at a table to have his meals again but right now with Sherlock next to him, eating in bed and getting crumbs everywhere didn't seem so bad.
He couldn't help but smile back and when John held the panini to his mouth he took a bite, indulging him. "Lestrade proposed to my brother." Completely random but something he felt ohn would like to know about as Lestrade was his friend, "Molly is dating Dimmock, and my brother's assistant has a new interest."
John blinked, chewed and swallowed as he tried to sort through the information Sherlock had just hurled at him. "Greg and Mycroft's getting married? Blimey...Good for them I guess but it's quite a scary thought. Molly and Dimmock, hmm, I think he will treat her like she deserves to be treated. If not I'll let Sarah don her boots and kick his arse. And Anthea has a new interest? I wasn't aware she had an old one." He held the panini to up to Sherlock again for another bite.
He obligingly took a bite, "More frightening than you know. As for Anthea, she's had three relationships since becoming my brother's PA, all of whom seem to expect that she will change how she lives for their sakes as they grow tired of her loyalty to Mycroft after no longer than three months. Morons."
"Morons indeed." John hummed in agreement, lifting his cup to take a sip of tea. "Hopefully this new interest will be the one to accept her for who she is then. When even Mycroft can find someone to put up with him then Anthea should as well." John couldn't say he'd ever really considered Anthea's happiness or private life before but everyone deserved a shot at a functioning relationship and it was nice, just making small talk with Sherlock.
Sherlock chuckled, "If Mother had her way then she'd match Anthea up with Cousin Basil but Anthea makes it a point to avoid Mother's matchmaking schemes no matter how good she is at them." An expression approaching a grimace flickered over his face. He was not looking forward to the guaranteed visit his mother would make once Mycroft informed her of his continued existence.
John caught the grimace and he felt his own eyes widen. "Oh Christ Sherlock...You didn't let your Mum know you were alive. That's just not on Sherlock. I mean...Harry and I aren't the closest of siblings but she would kill me with a rusty spoon if I'd put her through that. Don't wait for Mycroft to ease the way for you; you need to let your Mum know." Truthfully John was a little bit wary of Mother Holmes, he had never met the woman but she had raised both Mycroft and Sherlock...That alone spoke volumes in John's mind. He wondered what she would think about her first grandchild being carried by a man, a common man none the less.
"I'm not worried about my Mother being angry, it is simply that I don't want her to visit until after Benjamin is delivered and you're taken off bed rest because as soon as she knows she will visit. It's how she is." He played his fingers along the edge of the tray, "And I don't want you to be cornered if you don't want to be." He'd come by his propensity for pushing people and getting into their personal space and cornering them honestly. His mother was a past master at it. he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to his brother.
'Do NOT inform anyone, ESPECIALLY Mother, of my return until after John is taken off bed rest. And let me tell Mother when it's time. - SH'
"I do hope Mother's old contacts have retired." It was a frowning murmur.
"Cornered? Old contacts? I'm not sure I want to know." John looked a little bit wild as he finished his panini.
Sherlock's phone chimed with a message.
'Don't be ridiculous Sherlock. Mummy already knows, who do you think informed me you were back at Baker Street that day? - M'
Another text followed that one, this one making Sherlock look pained.
'Darling Bradley is not as good at keeping things from me as he likes to think and I am ruthless, not heartless and well remember being abed after having you. Tell John I will meet him in person, two days after he is taken off bed rest and that I fully expect to be allowed to cuddle my grandson and spoil him terribly. Also, number sixteen in France Sherlock? Really I thought I'd taught you better than that. - Love Mother'
He passed the phone over to John so he could read the message.
John both looked amused and slightly horrified as he read the text message. "Oh dear lord...She's like a mix between you and Mycroft isn't she? All genius wit and scheming mind." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, telling himself that it didn't matter but he still wanted to make a good impression, wanted Mother Holmes to like him, to approve. "What's this number sixteen thing then?" John looked up at Sherlock.
"Mother was an MI6 agent during the Cold War, a double 0," Sherlock heaved a put upon sigh, "Number sixteen is one of twenty methods she taught me, and Mycroft as well, to cover our tracks if we thought we were being followed."
John's jaw dropped and he couldn't care less. "Your Mum's bloody James Bond? No wonder you never wanted to watch the movies with me, you lived it." As a soldier John had believed he was prepared for nearly anything but not this.
"Not precisely. I never want to watch the films because every time I do all I can hear is my mother using frankly appalling language to insult Fleming, the directors, scriptwriters, and actors for their ham handed attempts at turning her profession into entertainment." He reclaimed his mobile to send a reply to his mother about sixteen's suitability versus twelve's, "Some things cannot be deleted no matter how hard one tries."
John just chuckled; he had no idea what else to do. The lives of the Holmes' were like some fantasy, sci-fi, thriller book that didn't really make sense but you couldn't put it down anyway. He was still a little intimidated about meeting Mother Holmes but not enough to worry about it, he'd survived Sherlock and Mycroft hadn't he? "Well, no teaching Benjamin any cover his tracks business until he's at least twelve okay?"
Sherlock wasn't the one John would have to worry about in that regard but he didn't say so. "Agreed," he tapped his fingers on the side of his mobile then turned it off, setting it on the bedside table. No one would be calling about cases and quite honestly he did not wish to banter with his mother right now. It was usually an enjoyable pursuit but he'd rather just spend the time with John uninterrupted. "I would be correct in presuming that incendiary experiments, ones involving severely corrosive chemicals, possible poisons, human body parts and/or certain fluids are also off the table until he has experienced similar sorts in secondary school yes?"
"You would be very, very correct in presuming that yes." John's tone was dry. "Feel free to experiment together with him but nothing flammable, poisonous or simply gross until secondary school. Also, no dissections of roadkill, no matter how educational it could prove."
Sherlock's lips pursed, "What if he asks without any prompting, suggestions, or implications from me?"
"If he asks then we answer, of course we'll answer. Let's just save the actual demonstrations for a little bit down the line alright?" John reached for Sherlock's hand and brought it up to his lips for a gentle kiss.
He smiled and rubbed his thumb in little circles over the back of John's hand, "So long as I don't get the blame for anything he undertakes on his own, I'm agreeable." He looked up at a thump and then toward the door just as Sentinel came barreling into the bedroom and over to the side of the bed to sit and wait for permission to jump up. "Ah, Sarah has returned."
"Obviously." John teased, voice filled with affection. He gave Sen permission to jump up and was proud of how carefully the dog moved around him and his stomach so that he could greet John with kisses. Sherlock though, ended up with a face full of wagging tail.
"I've got to say, that's a sight that amuses me more than it probably should." Sarah watched as Sherlock used his free hand to provide a tail stop so he wasn't getting slapped in the face with it. "So he cooks, was it edible?"
"Delicious." John replied and ordered Sentinel to sit so he would hit Sherlock with his tail anymore. "Both me and Benny-Jo are full, content and nourished." He smiled at his friend. "I hope you and Sentinel had a nice walk together."
"Always do. You know he's beautifully behaved," she returned John's smile, "Not to mention wonderful protection. I wonder if I could get the name of the man who trained him from Greg? A therapy dog at the clinic would be wonderful and I could use a live-in companion."
"I don't see why Greg wouldn't tell you who trained him, if you can pry him away from Mycroft that is." John grinned. "Maybe you might even have to be polite to him." John didn't mention anything about what Sherlock had said about Greg and Mycroft getting married. Maybe they didn't want to go public yet. "If you can't get a dog though you know you can borrow Sen for the clinic, he loves being useful."
"Ugh, being polite to Mycroft Holmes," she wrinkled her nose, "It's possible but is it worth it? Though Greg seems to find it amusing more than exasperating. I know you'd let me borrow Sen but I'd rather you came with him since he might mope if you're not there." She noticed that Sherlock was absently scratching along the dog's back and the furball was close to melting into a blissed out puddle of canine goo.
John noticed too and it made him happy, he wanted his two blokes to get on with each other. "I don't know...I don't think Sentinel would mope if he was being adored and cuddled by other people. I don't think you should hold my spot at the clinic Sarah, I think I'll be busy for the foreseeable future." John had thought about it long and hard and now with Sherlock's return he knew he would never, ever be bored even if he quit his job at the clinic.
She nodded, "I thought you'd say that eventually. Do you plan to continue the online consultations?" She saw Sherlock's scratching twitch just a bit and was fairly certain that the conversation had a very big piece of his focus now.
"I might yes. It's gone better than I can ever have imagined. Both the patients and I are breaking new ground there and I'm not sure I'm ready to give it up. I don't think I'll ever completely be able to stop being a doctor and the online consulting could be the best spot for me, at least now." John scratched behind Sen's ear absently as he spoke. "Also the consulting can be combined to fit with babies and geniuses."
She chuckled, "Or baby geniuses as the case probably is."
"High probability," Sherlock spoke in his rapid way, "Both John and I are possessed of a high IQ, the only difference is what we keep in our minds and how we organize it."
John lifted Sherlock's hand again and pressed yet another kiss to it. "Benjamin will be amazing however he turns out. Genius or not he will never be average and he'll always be loved."
"Well of course."
Sarah blinked. It had been a pragmatic, 'that's obvious' tone, hardly the sort you'd expect sweet nothings or admissions of love in. She'd known from the very first meeting just how connected Sherlock was to John, how much he needed him. You really didn't date crash as he had if you were heavily invested. But still she'd worried and wondered, despite the way he'd thrown himself into the baby care lessons, if there was room in Sherlock's limited emotional landscape for anything but John. She had her answer in those three bluntly honest words. "And spoiled rotten too. I do wonder who will be the worst offender in that."
"I think it will be a heavy competition...in the lead of it I expect Mrs. Hudson of course and maybe Mycroft, if he's allowed back inside here by then." The hand that wasn't holding Sherlock's went to his stomach. "Who wouldn't want to spoil a miracle?"
"No one in their right mind," Sarah looked down and pulled her phone out as it chimed, "Oh-oh, I need to go," she gave John a smile, "I'll see you again tomorrow."
"Go be the brilliant doctor that you are, see you tomorrow." John gave her a beaming smile. "Be safe and take care of yourself." He waited until she had left before turning to Sherlock. "If it doesn't make you uncomfortable, I would really like it for Sarah to be our son's godmother."
Sherlock's head tilted, "Why would it make me uncomfortable? She doesn't hate or insult me and she's been invaluable to you. Who else could be Benjamin's godmother?"
John shrugged. "I thought you might want Molly to be it. I just want you included Sherlock, want you to decide right along with me."
A slow shake of Sherlock's head, "Not Molly. Molly would be good at being maternal but a soft maternal. She would not be able to stand up to someone like my brother under any circumstances."
"No, you are right about that. Sarah can and will stand up to Mycroft anytime necessary." John shifted so he could lean against Sherlock's shoulder. "Sarah for godmother then, who do you wish for godfather?" So much had happened while Sherlock was away, John had made every decision and he wanted Sherlock to know that he wanted his input, that Sherlock and his opinions mattered.
Sherlock wiggled his fingers and toes, his head turning this way and that as he thought, "I...don't know. The only one who crosses my mind as appropriate will soon become our son's uncle so who else is a possibility?"
"Uncle doesn't have to exclude godfather you know and I can't really think of anyone else either. He's already a brilliant father if only that shrew would let him be one and he's strong of character and has a loving heart. I think Greg's the only possibility actually." John smiled at Sherlock's little fidgeting, he'd missed that too, even when still, Sherlock was never completely still. It was endearing.
"Then Lestrade," he returned the smile for no reason other than it made him pleased to see John smiling, "Online consulting John?" It was a request for information on whatever else John had been doing aside from gestating.
John's smile turned sly. "Can you really imagine me just lying around doing nothing? I might have to have gone into hiding once I couldn't pass for just fat anymore but I've never been one for being idle. Sarah came up with the online consulting idea, I was hesitant at first but it has actually worked brilliantly. Common colds and swollen tonsils are quite easily spotted even through a computer and most people just want advice anyway. It works for me."
Sherlock settled more comfortably, "Tell me? What you've done the last eight months, deducing is easy but I want to hear you." He wanted not just the facts but what was behind them, the emotions that drove his John.
Thinking about what to say, John snuggled as close to Sherlock as he could before he started talking, telling him about those dark, dark days at the beginning and then just continuing, telling Sherlock everything.
He held John and listened, occasionally twitching when John described particularly bad moments, and gently running his fingers along John's jaw or over the belly in comfort and a silent 'I'm here' assurance. He listened until John fell asleep in mid-story of finding out the gender of their child, and then he kissed John's temple and let the new data filter and file through his mind.
To be continued…