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 Fifteen.
Time passed a bit too quickly for Sherlock's comfort and soon he was answering the door to his mother while John was hiding his nervousness in the living room, rocking Benjamin. "Mother, you look well."
"My baby," she immediately wrapped him in a hug, "Oh my! Oh you've gained weight!" She sounded incredibly excited, looked it as well with a happy gleam in her eye as she pat Sherlock's ribs, "Still a beanpole but a healthy one, not dried out."
"You look well as always. Have you been enjoying your visit with Mycroft?"
"You know the answer to that already dear. Gregory is wonderful, good for Mycroft, reasonably clever, and so even tempered."
"Did you pull on his ears and map out the structure of his head as well?"
She just laughed and bent to greet the dog that approached, "Ah and here's a handsome fellow as well. I've heard wonderful things about you Sentinel," she scratched the dog's ears as Sherlock closed the door behind her.
Sentinel allowed her to pet him as he sniffed her hands and even gave them a quick lick. He'd picked up on his human's nervousness though and was quick to return to sit at John's feet.
John looked up from rocking Benjamin at the tall woman who'd just entered. Oh yes, he could definitely see the resemblance to both Sherlock and Mycroft in her features and the way she carried herself. He walked across the floor and held out one hand, the other arm cradling Benjamin. "Mrs. Holmes, it's very nice to finally being able to meet you." He fought the urge to stand at attention, nerves always brought out the soldier in him.
She beamed, positively beamed, and rather than shake his hand she moved in to hug him warmly, careful not to squish the baby. "Oh I've wanted to meet you for ages now! Please call me Violet, or Mummy if you like."
"Oh..." John returned the hug a bit awkwardly. "Well, um...Let's stick with Violet for now and you must call me John, everyone does." He stepped back and gave her a smile. "And this, this is of course Benjamin." He angled the baby in his arms so she could see him properly. Benjamin had just slept and been fed so now he was content to be in someone's arms and regard the world around him with calm blue eyes.
"Oh isn't he just a darling," she cooed down at the baby, "Looks so much like Sherlock did, except for the newborn eyes and that chin, that's absolutely his Papa's" She ran a finger lightly over said baby's chin, chuckling when her grandson wrinkled his little nose, "Oh yes you are just about your Daddy all over aren't you little love?"
Sherlock met John's eyes, a clear 'I told you so' in his pale eyes.
John just gave Sherlock a small private smile but his shoulders did relax. At least she didn't hate him on sight, seeing that Sherlock was worth so much better than him. "Do you want to hold him?" He transferred Benjamin gently into his grandmother's arms. "Can I offer you anything? Tea, coffee?"
"Tea would be wonderful thank you John," her arms automatically took the baby, muscle memory shaping them around him just so. "Actually, Sherlock dear you go make the tea. John do keep me company?" It was framed as a request but it was clear that it wasn't really as she settled to sit on the couch.
Sherlock just bussed his mother's cheek, murmuring a soft, "Play nicely Mother." Before heading into the kitchen.
John watched Sherlock walk into the kitchen before he made his way over to his chair and sat down so that he was facing the couch, polite smile in place. He was a little unsure how to start the conversation or what Mother Holmes...Violet wanted to talk to him about.
Her smile was warm and she gently bounced Benjamin in one arm while reaching out with her other hand and patting John's knee, "I want to thank you John," nothing but soft sincerity in her voice.
"I apologize but I'm not quite following you Mrs...Violet." He furrowed his brow in confusion as he looked at her.
Utter delight crept into the warmth of her smile, "My baby," her glance toward the kitchen was eloquent, "has always struggled as I'm certain you are aware. He can act well enough for very short periods of time but in the long term Sherlock is utterly incapable of wearing a mask. He simply cannot disguise his incredible mind and it makes most people, most normal people, so uncomfortable they treat him very badly. I was so worried he would never find anyone," her smile brightened, "But he did. Bradley, as I understand it, told you that I call you Sherlock's miracle. I do, because you are."
"If that's the case then it's because he's my miracle in return. Sherlock saved me Violet, he saved me in more ways than one. He gave me a reason to get up in the morning without stopping by the gun in my drawer, then he gave me his friendship and finally I had the greatest gift of all in his love." John clenched his left hand into a fist before relaxing it again. "What Sherlock does, how his mind work, it's incredible, I will never stop being amazed by him but more importantly, I will never stop loving him because he is who he is."
"And that is why I'm thanking you. You say Sherlock saved you? John dear, believe me when I tell you that saving was utterly reciprocal. He'd sobered up but before he met you I was expecting to have to bury him before I turned seventy." She gave an exasperated look in the direction of the kitchen, "Trust him to fulfill that expectation then defy it at the same time."
John's smile turned honest and warm. "He's Sherlock, what else did you expect? He better not ever pull a stunt like that again though, if he does then I'm afraid my doctor will wear his bollocks for earrings. Pardon the language."
"Pardoned. Is this doctor the esteemed Sarah Sawyer? Gregory mentioned that she kept Mycroft successfully in the dark about your condition and the particulars for a good month."
"That would be her yes." John's smile became full of amused mischief. "She's Benjamin's godmother, she's very useful to have around to keep your eldest from toeing over the line."
"So I understand." Her eyes echoed his mischief, "Do tell me more." She looked up as her son came in with the tea, "Ah thank you darling."
Sherlock passed her a cup, then John on before taking Benjamin into his own arms so his mother could drink her tea, "Sarah is the woman who John was kidnapped with during the Black Lotus case."
"Ah, the Blind Banker I believe John called it on his blog." She tsked, "Honestly what is the criminal element reducing themselves to? Such an easily rectified mix up."
"You get what you pay for Violet. If one uses morons to do one's work for you then one better be prepared to get shafted." John shrugged. "The thing that baffles me about that case is how they could be stupid enough to mistake me for himself over there." He nodded at Sherlock.
"Very good question. You're quite handsome John but goodness you certainly are not a curly haired beanpole."
Sherlock quirked a brow, "Foreigners who don't do their research are prone to ridiculous mistakes."
"That's true I suppose...I chuck it up to greed though. Such a hurry to get your money's worth that you don't stop and think." John looked up and met Sherlock's eyes. "That's the problem isn't? That people don't think?"
He felt his cheeks warm a bit and hid it by giving his son closer attention. "Yes, that is what tends to cause problems."
John smiled at him in an utterly besotted way, he was delighted he could make Sherlock blush. He wasn't even teasing, just wanted to remind Sherlock that he listened when he spoke, that he heard what he said.
Violet hid her delighted smile in her teacup. "Forgive me for being horribly nosy but what are the plans for the future for the three of you?"
He didn't choke on his tea but it was a near thing. John quickly put the cup back on its sauces before an accident happened. "Plans?" John wasn't aware if they had any plans other than raising their son and staying together no matter what. John wanted Sherlock to go back to taking cases because he knew that made Sherlock happy no matter what he said, he wanted to be with Sherlock on those cases as often as he could and set up a more organized form of his consulting service but no real plans. After Sherlock came back, everything had happened so fast.
"Yes, plans," she looked amused at the expression on his face, "For example, the cases, will you and Sherlock return to working cases, Benjamin's education when he's older, will you be homeschooling, putting him in a state-funded school or a boarding school," she gave Sherlock a very 'Mum' look at the disgusted sound he'd made, "Yes I am aware of your opinion of boarding schools dear," she turned back to John, "do you intend to remain at Baker Street, and of course a question you don't have to answer but I'll be eternally curious about, any thoughts on siblings for Benjamin?"
John gaped, he knew his was and he was doing his best to make his jaw close again. "Um...Well, yes," He gave Sherlock a look. "we will return to working cases. Benjamin will go to state-funded schools close by until he expresses any wish to do differently. Children can be very cruel and in a boarding school he would be too far away if they started to poke fun as to where he came from. Siblings...I have no clue. I'm not exactly twenty anymore and this body is really not made to carry children. That's something Sherlock and I will have to discuss and decide together."
Sherlock had an expression of mingled joy, approval, pride, and contemplation on his face as he nuzzled Benjamin's little cap of black fuzz, "Any other questions Mother?"
"Involving your life, not as yet, however I would appreciate an opinion of what sort of gift to give Mycroft and Gregory to celebrate their nuptials."
Sherlock blinked once, slowly, tilting his head and readjusting a squirmy Ben, "As far as I am aware, they have all the usual things and the only thing that comes to mind would result in Lestrade being conflicted and possibly disapproving as he believes in being fair and going through appropriate channels when possible."
"Yes, as much as I would like to gift Greg with his children he would not appreciate any meddling...Perhaps we can talk to his ex though, try to convince her to let them attend the wedding. That would be the greatest gift for Greg and Mycroft as well since he wants Greg to be happy. I have no illusions that she will do it from the goodness of her heart but maybe we could bargain with her..." John drifted off, thinking about what Lestrade's shrew of an ex-wife could want that they could provide.
Violet's smile took on a sharp edge, "Oh why bargain? I'm certain she'd listen to reason."
"In other words, threats." Sherlock's tone was dry, "All neatly couched in supremely polite euphemisms designed to chill the blood without offering any sort of possibility of the words being used against the one speaking."
"Well I am as I am dear."
"As far as I am concerned you can threaten away to your heart's content. As long as you don't hurt the children or really tell Greg. As Sherlock says he wants to go through the proper channels in getting his kids back and he doesn't need anything that can ruin his chances." John Reached for his teacup and took a sip.
"I'd never do anything that would jeopardize that, I'm simply going to talk to her." Violet looked extremely innocent, to the point you almost expected a halo to appear over her head.
Sherlock exchanged a look with John, saying nothing in reply to his mother. As she'd said, she was as she was.
"Well good luck with your little chat then." John was almost able to keep the dryness out of his voice. "Backup plan we get them a toaster or a waffle iron, something cliché and boring." He shrugged, after having met Violet he had no doubt the children would be given permission to come to the wedding.
Both Violet and Sherlock chuckled at that and the conversation turned to Violet's past and travels, what wasn't classified that was. Sherlock felt John would enjoy hearing about the things his mother had done and seen.
oOo
Sherlock dimmed the lights in the bedroom having just put Benjamin down for the night, and went back out into the living room, where John was curled up on the couch, the baby monitor right next to him. Sherlock settled his long frame in behind John somehow and slipped his arm around shoulders broader than his. "I told you she would like you."
"Yes you did, I was wrong to doubt your massive brain and I bow down to your intellect in questions regarding your mother." John grinned a bit sleepily and leaned back against Sherlock's solid form. "For what it's worth I like her too, your Mum is quite the character."
"Indeed. I'm glad you liked her," Sherlock leaned his cheek on the top of John's head, "Perhaps I might risk next Christmas dinner at the Holmes estate if you and Lestrade come. You've not told Harry yet."
John sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "I know...I'm struggling with how to tell her. She and Clara tried so hard to get pregnant when they were together, spent so much money on something that just didn't happen for them. She's already so bitter with me...I don't know how to tell her."
Sherlock's fingers began playing in soft, soothing strokes over the fabric of John's chest, "I would suggest having me tell her but that might be unwise," Harry hated him, almost as much as Anderson did, and Sherlock, being who he was, responded accordingly. "Perhaps Sarah might have some advice."
"Mmm, perhaps." John sort of doubted that but it couldn't hurt to ask, he was certainly stuck on what to do. He couldn't help but wonder how things had gone so terribly wrong with him and Harry. They had never been very close but now they were worse than strangers and John had no idea how to fix it.
"You're the only one working at it," Sherlock knew where John's mind had gone, "Harry is still too deep in her addiction to work with you to fix what's broken." He held John tighter, knowing that Harry's alcoholism hurt his lover. "One day that will change."
"Yeah I suppose it will, she'll either realize her problem or die from it." It was cruel and harsh but it was the truth. John had tried to help Harry every way that he could but it was hard to help someone who didn't want it. "Maybe we should just bring Benjamin and visit her, no matter how she feels about us, I can't see her doing anything but love him."
Sherlock hummed, "So long as we call ahead." He slipped one hand up to measure John's pulse, for no reason other than to touch him. "I like the plans you have that Mother put you on the spot with."
"You do? I'm glad, of course I don't want to decide them all on my own but I want to work cases with you again. I want to stay here at Baker Street, we have an extra room for Benjamin when he grows older. And of course I want him close...Education may be better in a boarding school but I don't think it's worth the cost of having him so far away." John paused. "And what do you think of the sibling question?"
"I think that it's not something necessary to dwell on before our son is at least two. I think that it is your body and therefore your decision as to what goes on inside it, that you have a choice about. I also think that there are more ways than one to get him a sibling should we decide we're ever ready for a second child." He brushed his lips against John's ear, "I had thought, before, that when we were ready, perhaps after Lestrade wound up Superintendent as the majority of cases would then become swiftly dull, that we might consider adopting a child. It had been a vague consideration to bring up to you for discussion at some point in the far future."
John turned his head to nuzzle against any area of Sherlock he could reach. "I love Benjamin and I love the fact that I was able to carry him to term and that all went well...I'm must admit that I'm bloody terrified of the thought of doing it all again though. That might be because it's still such a short time since it happened but I like the idea of adopting. We would love that child just as much. As you say we can see when we are ready." John was so aware of everything that could go wrong with him carrying a child. It was just luck that made it all go well this time around.
Sherlock nodded. In the back of his mind he was sifting through the dozens of scenarios that could have happened, ways it could have gone wrong, and he could very happily admit that he never wanted John to risk that again. "As to schooling, the education a boarding school provides is never worth the cost," he swallowed, "Holmes children have been sent to boarding schools...since they came into existence and I would let Anderson into my lab before I let Benjamin go to one of them." He'd gone to a boarding school and had loathed it more than he could properly express.
"Gods, don't ever let Anderson into your lab, his stupidity would contaminate everything. And all Holmes children might have gone to boarding school but this Watson Holmes or Holmes Watson child will not. I didn't go and I made it out alright anyway. Besides, I want him close. I can be selfish enough to admit that." John reached down to stroke his hand over Sherlock's thigh in a soothing motion.
He nuzzled John's temple, "You made it out perfectly, Doctor. And if wanting him close is selfish then that is expected of me isn't it?'
"Stop that, you're the least selfish person I know. You may huff and puff and pretend but you don't fool me." John's hand gripped Sherlock's thigh. "You have such a large and giving heart, protecting it against hurt does not make you selfish in the least."
Sherlock snorted, "John you are entirely too biased and apparently forgetting about the tea, the mobile, shooting the wall. I am selfish, very, very selfish. I care about a very limited number of people and the rest are merely bodies and possible forms of entertainment, some dead, some not dead yet."
John hummed. "Fine you're a selfish berk, luckily I love you anyway." He still believed that Sherlock wasn't nearly as selfish as he made himself out to be but he wasn't going to have a discussion about it. The tea and the phone...well that was just as must his own fault because he let Sherlock get away with it. The wall shooting, that had been childish and stupid but selfish...John wasn't sure.
"Very lucky, and not fool enough to think otherwise." He wrapped himself closer around John, "When do you want to start working on cases again?"
"When you're ready, I'm ready." John smiled, loving being close to Sherlock like this. "I'm not quite up to running across the London streets quite yet but I'm getting there." John had begun to train to build up lost muscle tone again. "We can start small perhaps? I don't want to spend too much time away from Benjamin right now, not yet."
"Less than seven cases until we can bear to leave him with Mrs. Hudson then."
"Sounds like a plan, though you still have to get dressed, no sheets...Too distracting." John twisted in Sherlock's embrace so he could touch him better.
A smile pulled at Sherlock's mouth; "Well if I must..." he nuzzled John's cheek.
"I'm afraid I have to insist? People are usually put off by a consulting detective's assistant walking around with a boner, something about common decency I suppose." John grinned and caught Sherlock's mouth with his own.
Sherlock made a soft sound of welcome, more than happily fitting his mouth to John's and following his lead. Every kiss was precious, something he'd been quietly terrified he'd never have again more times than he liked to contemplate.
Sherlock could cut anyone to pieces with the sharpness of his tongue but in John's mind, Sherlock's mouth was made for kisses. He'd been entranced by that mouth since the very first meeting and the simple act of pressing his lips against Sherlock's was amazing every single time. Cupping the back of Sherlock's neck, John slowly deepened the kiss.
He parted his lips eagerly, his hand trailing over John's shoulders, mapping out the cloth covered muscle. His mind of course measuring how much tone had been lost during the pregnancy and how long it would likely take to regain it. That was in a far back corner though, the rest of him was sunk quite firmly in sensation, enjoying the slide of John's tongue into his mouth, the soldier's form against his own.
Making some sort of grumbling noise, John speared his fingers into Sherlock's hair and pulled slightly on the dark curls as he tasted Sherlock's mouth. He bit down on Sherlock's bottom lip and soothed the tiny sting of the bite with the tip of his tongue.
The bite and pull brought a moan out of Sherlock's throat. He really had a deep love of when John got aggressive, giving him the same punch of thrill a case usually garnered him. He snuck his fingers under the hem of John's shirt, to touch and tease the skin of his back and sides. His fingertips found old scars, playing over them, around them, and in essence worshipping them. He loved John's scars, loved the proof of what John had survived to meet him. In time, once he was fully healed there would be another scar for him to worship, the scar of the cesarean, proof of what John's body had endured to bring their son into the world. That was something sacred to him.
Letting out a low, ragged moan, John moved until he was straddling Sherlock's slim hips. His fingers was still tangled in dark hair but he pulled his mouth away from Sherlock's to run his bottom teeth over Sherlock's jawline before closing his mouth over Sherlock's pulse point and sucking a vivid purple bruise there.
"God, John," it was a husky whisper. He tilted his head to grant John better access, almost purring as the invitation was seized upon. His fingers curled and he drew his nails very lightly against John's skin before slipping his hands down to cup John's arse over his trousers.
Moaning again, John pressed against Sherlock, wanting to be closer still. He had just started to work on the buttons of Sherlock's shirt when a sharp cry pierced the air, cooling his libido as effectively as a dip in ice water. He licked his lips and looked at Sherlock with wide eyes before sighing and inching off Sherlock's lap to go tend to their very awake and very angry son.
Sherlock dropped his head with a breathless, half-frustrated laugh, adjusted himself in his trousers, then got up to join his family in the bedroom. "Feeding or in need of changing?"
"Both," John lifted Benjamin out of the crib to carry him to the changing table. "Seems he's made some room for the food he wants." He quickly stripped the baby of the one piece jammies and changed and cleaned him with a steady hand.
"I'll go warm a bottle then," despite his rapidly waning erection, he was smiling. As far as he was concerned, this family was worth an interrupted petting session on the sofa.
To be continued…