A Wife for Sherlock Holmes
Chapter 2 – Decisions
Marion woke.
She was in a different bed. She blinked. The bed was bigger than hers. The sheets were clean, though they had a scent to them. She lifted an arm to her face and looked up at the ceiling.
Where was she? Then she sniffed the sheets about her. She gasped. She was in his bed! Oh sweet lord in heaven help her. She was in his flat still. A thunder crash made her gasp.
She struggled to sit up, but then gasped her hand going to her head and she laid back. "Easy. You are weak and still need a good meal in your belly." His voice said.
She groaned. "Go away." She hissed.
"I can't you see. You are in my bed in my flat." Sherlock said. He smiled at her, his eyes dancing because he knew he had her there.
She covered her face with her arm and then looked at it. "Where did this come from?" She asked looking at the night gown.
"It suits you." He said smiling a little. "Can I get you anything? Mrs. Hudson is making you some tea and soup."
"Your housekeeper is quite nice."
"She isn't the housekeeper." John said stepping in from the door. "She is the landlady."
She looked at him and then looked at Sherlock who moved to sit beside her.
"How are you feeling?" John asked. She looked at him. He had a mop of short blonde hair, was wearing a sweater and jeans. He folded his arms as he regarded her.
"Well enough." She said lifting her chin as she looked at her lover who was watching her carefully. She arched an eyebrow at him and looked back at John.
He fortunately took the hint. "I am Doctor John Watson. Call me John. I am Sherlock's flatmate. I guess you will be seeing a fair amount of me."
"Oh?"
"He means he is quite happy to have you here once you marry me." Sherlock said.
"Oh is he?"
"Now, I did not say that…" John said.
"So you do not wish me here?" She asked.
He looked at her in horror. "No. I mean. I want you to…"
Sherlock shook his head. "Now…back to the matter at hand." He said. "You, my dear, are pregnant, by me, and so are both my responsibility."
"That was is all chivalrous, but I can look after myself. Why should I marry you?"
"You need support. It is the only reason why you can here. You have no family and you are scared." He said looking at her face.
She grunted and tried to swat at him. He easily dodged her attempt and took her hand in his. "I do not want to be married."
"But with a baby…the sigma of having a baby out of wedlock." He countered.
"I would be alright. You would help anyway."
"Oh?"
"Yes." She shook her head. She patted the bed around her. "This is rather nice." She said. She yawned and stretched like a cat.
He watched her and then shook his head. "I will have you marry me for protection. And you will need to come live here."
She looked at him as she sat up. "Demanding little…" She took a breath as his eye quirked. "…man aren't you."
"I have been told."
She shook her head. "We are not even in love, Sherlock."
"God no." He muttered and when she looked down and lifted a hand. "But I am willing to try. It is how things are done and Lord knows Mrs. Hudson would love to have another woman here." He shook his head.
Mrs. Hudson brought tea and then Sherlock lifted the spoon after blowing on it. Marion's eyes narrowed. "I am not glass, Mr. Holmes."
"Ahhh, but you are my problem now and I will care for you." He pressed it to her lips. She glared up at him, her arms folded, but then relented, allowing him to feed her. She did not like it an objected as much as she could, but often was silenced by him pressing a spoon to her lips.
When she was finished he looked at her. "Good. Now at least the pair of you won't starve."
She looked at the window. It was still raining very hard. She winced and shivered drawing the blanket about her.
He rose to his feet. "You should have your rest." He said softly.
She nodded and settled watching the flames dance. She settled down and then cocked her head, hearing the music playing from the other room. It was a violin.
He had told her he played. She listened and smiled. He played very well. There was so much they needed to learn about each other, but it could wait. She sighed and relaxed and soon slept.
It was sometime later then Sherlock walked into the room. His future wife was sound asleep in his bed. He smiled looking at her. She was beautiful and her hair was tousled. In the low light it looked molten. He then removed his clothing and pulled on a night shirt and pants, watching her the whole time, listening to her soft breaths.
He shook his head. He never imagined a woman sleeping there. The room was his sanctum, but he supposed he was going to have to get used to her in his personal space. He planned to marry her as soon as he could to make sure she was protected. He would insist on a doctor appointment as well.
He settled into the bed with her, away from her body as she rested on her stomach. Soon she would not be comfortable that way, he mused. He shifted her hair from her face and bent over her. "Sleep well, Mari." He whispered and brushed a soft kiss to her cheek.
ZzZ
Sherlock woke and found himself alone.
He gasped looking about. Where had she gone off to? He got up, pulling on a dressing robe, he walked out into the common room. She was not there. He looked at his clock. It was nine-thirty. Perhaps she had work to do?
He then noticed shoes by the door. The shoes were far too small for him and John. They were a lady's size 2.5. Size two point five? She was an elf! He wore an 11.5. He looked at his foot. His two toes would not fit into that shoe!
He looked about and saw her nowhere, but as he came to the stairs he heard voices below him. Female voices. Two of them. One was clearly Mrs. Hudson. The other was younger and was laughing in delight at something. He smiled a little. Mari's smile and laugh could light up a room and she had no idea she had the power.
He sighed and walked down to the door that went into the kitchen of the landlady who doted on Sherlock. She owed Sherlock much after she had made sure that her husband faced the death penalty in America. He would never bother her again.
He opened the door and the smell of French Toast, bacon, and tea reached his nose. He blinked as he saw his future wife standing at the stove as Mrs. Hudson sat with a cup of tea in her hands.
"Did he really do that?" Mrs. Hudson asked laughing.
"I know hard to believe, but he…" Marion looked up seeing her future husband. He was tousled from sleep. He looked at her with his narrowed green eyes. She was in the flannel nightgown, feet bare on the hard surface of the kitchen, her thick long hair reigned back into a braid that hung thick over one shoulder. It did nothing to help her elf image. "Well well. I thought you may sleep the day away. Come for breakfast, Sherlock?" She flicked it back over her shoulder and it hung down her back nearly to her full buttocks that he loved to hold in his hands. And her hair always smelled of rosemary and jasmine. Interesting choice for shampoo.
Mrs. Hudson smiled. "She cooks, Sherlock."
"I can see that, but I am trying to understand why she is on her feet." He said folding his arms, his intense green eyes watchful.
"I am a professional woman. I am not going to be in bed all day." She said. She rolled her eyes. "I am on my feet much of the day." She shrugged. "Work, training, and maybe some dance later."
"You may think differently later on." He said. He shook his head and walked to her. He kissed her cheek softly. "Good morning."
Mrs. Hudson smiled as Sherlock lightly caressed Mari's back. He then reached passed her to look to see if there was any orange juice or something similar.
"So. I haven't heard much about you, Mari. What do you do?"
"I am a curator for the British Museum." She smiled. "All the fun artifacts. Makes me feel a bit like Indiana Jones." She chuckled.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and poured a glass of juice and drank a sip. "You feel like a made up man who stole treasures."
"Well not like that, and I am in a lab much of the time…"
"That sounds lovely. I am surprised he did not say a word about you. I have never seen you before and suddenly you come in the rain and stay with him all night."
Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "She is to be my wife, Mrs. Hudson."
"Your wife? You are getting married? You?" Mrs. Hudson blinked.
"Oh have no fear, we will be remaining at Baker Street." He smiled. "At least until the new addition arrives at the very least." He smiled a little. "Perhaps longer. I am sure it won't be too much of a bother."
"New addition?" Mrs. Hudson blinked.
"Yes." Sherlock smiled. He turned as Mari flipped some of the toast. His large hand pressed to her belly, right above the juncture of her thighs. He pointedly looked back at Mrs. Hudson and then up at the startled Mari. He gave her a quick peck on her cheek before stepping back.
Mrs. Hudson gasped. "No…"
When Sherlock smiled a little she squealed and leapt up and hugged Sherlock about his middle startling him. "Mrs. Hudson!" He nearly spilled the juice he held. She moved back and looked up at him her hands together.
"I never thought I would see the day…I knew you would find someone. She is smart, pretty, and perfect." She giggled excitedly. She hugged Mari and then she pulled the woman away handing the spatula to Sherlock who looked at it as the pair started to chatter to each other so quickly he could hardly follow. He blinked and looked back at the toast.
"What am I supposed to do with these?" He interjected into the conversation.
The both looked up at him. Mrs. Hudson was holding Mari's hand gently and smiled up at him. "When they are ready, put them on a plate. Really Sherlock. You are the smartest man in the world and you don't know how to…"
Mari rose to her feet. She shook her head. "They are ready. Just put them on a plate and have them."
He nodded and did as she said dropping into a seat to eat the perfect slices. He took a bite and looked back at her, his eyes narrowed. "Keep this up, I am going to have to keep you, Mrs. Holmes." He said.
Mrs. Hudson paused eating hers as she watched Sherlock demolish his plate. She had never seen him eat more than tea and the occasional pastry. He had just devoured four slices of French Toast and then took too more from the stack on the table. He cut into them wanting more.
"Doctor." Mari said looking back at the new slices as she looked at the moodily.
"Pardon?" Sherlock asked wiping the syrup from his lip. He had devoured the slices and held a piece of bacon in his fingers. It was perfectly crispy. He ate it and shook his head. Perhaps marrying her for the food was even worse than for the baby, but he could argue the logic of that as well.
"Doctor." She repeated. "Doctor Bayezid."
He blinked. He had not really considered that. She had a PhD and a second she was working on a second. He also had not realized she would be so sensitive about it. John really wasn't, but then he was male and not pregnant. She flipped the toasts and sighed.
He rose to his feet and put the dish in the sink. "Thank you, Mari, that was lovely." He then walked to her and kissed her cheek again. "Doctor Holmes." He whispered and his eyes met her gaze before he turned to leave.
He went upstairs and Mrs. Hudson smiled as Mari watched him go. "He is quite taken with you, even if he has a hard time showing it." She then chuckled. "I do not expect he will eat another month after that meal."
Mari smiled and dropped into a place. "He eats, just not as much as I like." She chuckled. "He is so thin, no wonder."
"He is a good man and will treat you proper in his own fashion."
Mari nodded. "I know."
She walked up stairs after Mrs. Hudson had shooed her telling her she cooked the least the woman of the house could do was do the dishes. She looked about the room. Clearly two men lived there. Piles of paper were everywhere. At least it was clear that Mrs. Hudson kept an eye on them.
She moved some of the papers out of the way and then lifted the violin. It was sitting on a chair. She looked at it as she held it carefully, like an artifact. It was so lovingly attended.
"What are you doing?" Sherlock's voice asked.
She was pulled from her revere as she looked at him. "I was admiring your…"
"Don't touch it!" He barked taking it from her.
"You had it where someone could sit on it." She snapped back.
He narrowed his eyes. God, he was handsome in his dress shirt that was buttoned to the last top button which he left open. He wore black pants and regarded her coldly. She just shook her head unable to take the green eyed stare and walked into his bedroom. Bent doing the bed making made her all the smaller in his eyes no doubt. What had she gotten into?
Touching his things, in his room, this woman could be the very end of him. He held his violin and string as he looked after her and then saw her making the bed and fretting over the simple task. Why on earth would she be doing that?
He stepped closer and then saw her red rimmed eyes. She narrowed them at him and continued putting her head back down. "Are my clothes dry?" She asked.
"How would I know?" He asked. "Mrs. Hudson has them."
She sighed and moved to walk passed him and he caught her arm.
"You are angry."
"Brilliant deduction, Mr. Holmes. Now if you excuse me."
He held her elbow, long fingers locked about it, holding firmly, but gently in a hold she could break if she wished. "Why?"
"You are angry too."
"No I was annoyed, but clearly you meant no harm." He said. "But I do not know what raised your ire."
She hissed and freed herself and walked to the stairs and down calling for Mrs. Hudson.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. This was going to be a very long day for him. He reached to the side and pulled out a nicotine patch. He was totally unused to the wills of women let alone one who was surging with hormones.
It was going to be a very long day indeed.