A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

by tavingtonsbeauty

Seems impossible, but the man known as Sherlock Holmes is easily bored. That boredom drove him to the arms of a highly intelligent woman who could keep up with him both physically and mentally. However, when a child is thrown into the mix, Sherlock steps up, to the chagrin of the woman, and they marry. With so much baggage on both sides will it work or be a match made in hell.

11. One Year Older

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 11 – One Year Older

January 28 2011

It was raining harder than Marion Holmes had ever seen it. She was on vacation and she had never been so happy to be home in her life. A solid week of doing very little other than stay home and relax. She watched the rain upon the glass as she sat in the chair looking over the back. She leaned against, her head on her arms.

It had been only a couple weeks since the whole affair at the museum. Strangely, the museum had not suffered a decrease in sales or in donations. If anything having Sherlock Holmes there solving a case that involved his wife and several others did wonders.

She had gone every other day to visit Genevie, but she knew her friend would want her to slowly let her go. This weather was good inspiration. Her husband's birthday had come and gone. She had given him a gift, which he actually guessed wrong on. After a laugh they had spent the evening eating ordered in Chinese Food and watching movies since John was off on a medical training.

Mari had been amused by her husband's inability to use chopsticks. After watching him suffer for a few moments and try to make it work she had taken them from his hand and reached up and pulled out a hair tie from her hair. Startled by this she wrapped the elastic around the end to hold them. It helped, but she vowed to have more practice.

More amusing was him watching her and trying to mimic her deft movements. Finally something Sherlock Holmes didn't know how to do. She had teased him until he got annoyed with it and she had made up for it by climbing into his lap. He had tried to refuse until he had noticed she was barely clothed and only in his dressing gown. He then noticed she was wearing something, her pearls. Growling he had stood up, bringing her with him, her legs wrapped about him, and he carried her to the bedroom.

After she promised to teach him so John wouldn't make fun of him. He had smiled and thanked her with a kiss to her nose. She then curled up, wishing him a happy birthday and fell asleep, her stomach pressed to his side. He had caressed the swell for a time, feeling the soft kicks of his baby girl within her mother. It had been his best birthday in ages.

She sighed and heard someone come home. She listened, suspecting it was John, but it wasn't the footfalls were too hard from her husband's large shoes. She didn't turn when she smiled. "Hello, Sherlock." She greeted.

He looked at her and then out the window. "It is dismal out there." He said. "Have you been watching?"

"Nothing better to do at the moment."

"How boring." He pulled off his coat and scarf as he went to the bedroom to look at something. He looked at the table beside her bed. Her phone was there, but it was different. He blinked and lifted it. He came back out, holding it. "You got a new phone?"

"You did last week as well." She smiled. "My contract was over. I decided to get a Droid Razr. Problem?"

"It isn't an I Phone."

"I despise Apple." He looked up at her and then shook his head. "I have the IPhone 4." He pulled his out and handed it to her after unlocking it. She flicked through his various apps and smiled as he looked at hers. He pressed some keys and the phone unlocked and he serfed her internet.

"This actually has a fast processor." He said. "Same number?"

"Yes. Regretting your choice?"

"Not yet, but something to consider." He said smiling at her. He took his phone back and then handed her own. She smiled. "Thank you for keeping your password."

"Don't hack it. I know you make need it so…"

"I know." He smiled as he typed a text his fingers moving quickly.

She nodded and moved levering herself up. Even as she neared six months her belly was large and awkward when she had been in a position for some time. Sherlock looked at her out of the corner of his eye and offered her a hand. She took it as she gained her footing.

She took a couple steps. She was wearing comfortable pants and a yoga shirt clearly both maternity gear. She waddled and then picked up her yoga mat and went to the bedroom. She made it to the door and then paused, hissing through her teeth.

Sherlock looked over at her. He took in her bent form and stepped to her. "Are you all right?" His hand was lightly on her back, gently caressing, his long finger that could work out knots amazing well, as he leaned too, looking at her face. "Habibi?" He whispered. His other hand went to her cheek, long fingers cool as he looked her over. His green eyes held concern, deep concern.

"Yes. Just a twinge." She said taking a deep breath and straightening. He retracted the hand against her face, but the other remained to steady her a moment. She then turned to look up at him. He looked at her unsure. "I'm fine, Sherlock."

"I am not so sure. That looked like a contraction."

"Too early." She said in part to reassure herself as well as him. He gently tucked a piece of hair back behind her ear in a soft nervous gesture as he continued to look her over. She sighed and decided to change the subject so he would stop looking at her like that.

"Your parents are in town. They were planning to call later and take us to dinner."

"You couldn't make an excuse?"

"Between you and Mycroft I am the only one of the children they actually talk to. Come now, Sherlock. Just a dinner."

He arched an eyebrow. "Just a dinner?"

"Yes a family dinner. Then you and Mycroft and disappear and I will take them to see Les Mis." She smiled.

He paused a moment. "How exactly do you know them?" He asked. "I do not recall you meeting them."

"I haven't yet, but your brother insisted I phone them when we wed. They are actually looking forward to this." She paused. "I had to tell them I was pregnant, Sherlock. You should have as the proud father-to-be, but it was I who did it. Not that I am not happy, but they are good people and they want to meet me." She smiled. "As am I. You never told me they were still about."

"Must have slipped my…"

"Oh come off it. You find family tedious."

"I don't find you tedious." He said looking at her folding his arms over his chest.

"Yes, you do if I am annoyed or hormonal."

He sighed. "Well you have me there." He agreed. He sighed and stepped away and then turned back. "They actually phone you."

"Yes and quite often. Your mother seems very charming." He made a face and shook his head, his dark curls bouncing. "You could have at least called them to meet me before I was huge."

"Don't you have yoga to do?" He asked looking at her.

"Yes. Sherlock I like family. I don't have any remember."

"You have me. You have Mycroft. You have the baby."

"Yes and I have John and now your parents. Is it so much to ask for me to have some time with people who I want to know."

He sighed. "I suppose not." He said. "It was unfair to you and I am sorry." He said turning back. "I do care, you know. In my own way." He said.

"I know Sherlock. I love you." She said sighing. She sharply took in a breath and then shook her head rubbing her belly as he looked at her again his hands together, palms together under his chin, his thinking position. He arched an eyebrow and she shook her head. "She just kicked." She said.

She laid out her yoga mat and sighed taking a deep breath to calm herself.

ZzZ

Sherlock went to check on her. She in a position he had never seen. There was a soft tune on the music station and she was singing to it. It was not really words, it was her voice and it was haunting. One leg was tucked up, bent at the knee while the other was bent and turned upwards. Her foot rested in her elbow as she arched back, her hands folded together behind her head. She was breathing calmly and her haunting voice echoed on the walls.

The song ended and he watched her take a deep breath and seem to come out of a trance like state as she looked up at him a moment. "Can I help you with something?" She asked as she shifted and moved slowly until her body made a bridge, her hands and feet planted, head down, her bottom in the air.

He sat down looking at her. "How is that remotely comfortable?" He asked looking at her, cocking his head.

She smiled moving her hand slightly. "Downward dog is good. Improves circulation and takes the weight off my hips for a moment." She then looked over and gasped in surprised to see him mimicking her pose. "What are you doing?"

"Many people do this, maybe I should give it a try." He said looking at her. "How am I doing?"

"Very good, Mr. Holmes. I never thought you would be into yoga."

"Perhaps I can learn. I have a beautiful teacher." He said looking at her with a playful smirk.

"Flattery will get you everything."

He chuckled and watched as she shifted again and put her feet together, knees up. He blinked and looked down. "Hang on." He said. He removed his shoes and then mimicked her. She pushed down on her knees with her elbows, watching him.

"Butterfly. Push until you feel the stretch."

He did so and lifted his head, straightening himself and bringing his palms together before him. "Is this what you do to relax?" He asked closing his eyes.

"Yes. Relax my body and clear my head…"

"This is oddly stimulating." He said not opening his eyes.

"I have had students kick their smoking habits." She said.

He cracked open an eyeball and looked at her. "Good try, but I do not think that will work for me." He said.

"Worth a try." She said smiling.

"Perhaps."

She smiled rising and moving. She dropped down and sat between his legs. He grunted in surprise and then smiled as she fit exactly within his legs. She resumed her pose as he sat there watching her. He dropped his hands as she did to his knees and took a deep breath.

"You are quite good at this." She said after a time.

"You are not so bad yourself."

She laughed. "Modest as ever."

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her hair. "Indeed."

ZzZ

It was later in the afternoon when she stood dressed and ready to go. She was wearing a nice jumper and maternity pants that were very well suited for going out. She looked stunning despite her very round belly. She looked lovely and she was wearing a necklace he had not seen, but it looked very familiar.

"Sherlock? Are you ready?"

"Yes, dear." He said appearing. "Let's get this over with shall we." He muttered. He pulled on his overcoat over his suit jacket and shirt that his wife had given him. She was dressed in her own jacket and as he wrapped his scarf around himself he noticed her watching him. "What?"

"Thank you." She whispered and leaned up and kissed his cheek. He touched her cheek and kissed her on her mouth, his hands cupping her face. She was startled, but relaxed into his kiss. It was warm demanding and full of promise.

"Sherlock…oh!" Mrs. Hudson gasped coming in. She smiled as Sherlock broke off the kiss and looked up at her. She then giggled and looked at him.

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson?" He asked, slightly annoyed.

"Your cab is here." She said smiling.

"Ah, good. Shall we then, my dear." He said looking at his wife.

"Yes." She took his arm and smiled leaning close. "I owe you." She whispered.

"Yes, you do." He smiled at her.

They walked to the cab. The driver had the door opened. Mari climbed in and Sherlock followed settling beside her. "Where to?" The man asked as he closed the door and then got in.

"Bocca di Lupo." Sherlock said taking out his phone.

"On it."

Mari smiled at her husband as he looked at his email and various other items online. "I am excited." She said.

"Are you?" He asked. "Why?"

"Because I want to know what kind of amazing genes came together to create your brother and you." She smiled at him.

He chuckled. "You may be surprised then."

"I like your mother already and I haven't met her."

"I still do not understand why this is so important to you."

"Perhaps because you still have your parents." She said and took a breath and looked away.

He looked at her. "I didn't mean to upset you." He said gently.

"I'm not."

"You are lying."

"No. I am not upset. I just wish my parents could have met you."

"I do not think they would have liked me much."

"No. They would not have, but seeing me happy, they wouldn't care who you were." She said.

He shook his head. "You are so human, it is fascinating." He said.

"So are you, you just like to forget you are when it isn't convenient." She said.

He sighed. "I do love you, you know. Waking up at your side has become so thrilling."

She smiled pacified and he lifted her hand kissing her knuckles and wedding ring. She smiled at him. "I love you too."

He looked at the plain band and rubbed his finger over it. "We need to get you another one. One that looks more like a wedding ring." He said.

"I like this one. I am not overly fond of diamonds anyway." She said.

"Still." He smiled. "It is more of a promise ring than a wedding ring."

"I was married with it." She said looking at him.

"Ah, but you, my flower, deserve better."

"I have you, what else would I want in my marriage."

He chuckled and kissed her hand again. "You will need those diplomatic skills tonight, my dear, I assure you."

She smiled. It took them twenty minutes to arrive and once there, Sherlock paid the cabbie and then got out, opening the door for his wife. He smiled as he took her hand and then took her hand as he closed the door. They walked together to the restaurant door, dodging a puddle. Once inside Sherlock noticed several people at the tapas bar and then nodded to a waitress.

"Can I help you?" She asked. She was clearly Welsh. He smiled and nodded. "We have a reservation. Five for Holmes."

"Yes. Welcome. Follow me." She said walking to the back of the restaurant. There was a loft and she led them up to it. A nice fireplace was there and Sherlock removed his overcoat and then moved to help his wife. He pulled out her chair for her.

She dropped in, gratefully, and smiled as he moved and hung up the coat on one of several hooks nearby. His scarf joined them and he walked back to his wife, unbuttoning his jacket. He moved to stand behind her, clearly too full of energy to sit yet as his fingers drummed lightly on the chair back.

"They are late."

"No, we are early. It is only a quarter to six, Sherlock." She smiled up at him.

He grunted and removed his phone, surfing while he waiting, one hand on the back of her chair. She smiled as the waitress came with some water. "Thank you." She said.

It was almost ten minutes before Mycroft arrived. He walked up and regarded his brother. "Ah, she talked you into this as well." He said.

"Quite." Sherlock said putting his phone away and resting his hands on his wife's chair.

Mycroft came over and offered a hand to her. She took it and he kissed it gently. "You are looking well. You are you two doing?"

"Fine, thank you?" Sherlock said.

Mycroft lifted his eyes. "I didn't mean you. I meant your wife and baby."

"Oh."

Mari shook her head. "I am fine, Mycroft."

The other two came up and they were carrying gifts. "Oh! Hello! At last Marion!" A woman who was about Marion's height said as she came up. She was in her seventies, her hair pulled back, green eyes quick as she looked and saw Marion there. Mycroft and Sherlock looked at each other, using the table the table as a buffer between them and their parents.

Marion, however, went to the pair as Mr. Holmes the elder arrived and took his wife's coat. Mrs. Holmes, named Elizabeth, and then pulled Marion into a hug that pushed all the air from her lungs. She squealed with delight. Mycroft sighed and Sherlock stood with him as they both took it in.

"This is why I shall never marry."

"Oh come now I broke the ice, brother."

Marion stepped back taking her mother-in-law's hands. "It is good to see you too, Mrs. Holmes."

"Oh no you don't. I am mummy or Elizabeth to you."

Marion's eyes misted and she put a hand to her face.

"Oh, Lizabeth you made her weep." Mr. Holmes hissed.

"No, it is fine." Marion said smiling even as tears stung her eyes. "I…I just do not have my parents any more and…"

Elizabeth hugged her again, this time gently and hushed her. "Why didn't Sherlock tell us?"

"Does he tell you anything?" Marion asked.

Elizabeth chuckled. "I like her, George."

"Me too. Come here, you." He said hugging her in turn. He then put her out to arms length and they looked at her belly.

"Oh you look so amazing. How are you?"

"Good." Marion said. "Twenty-four weeks today." She said.

Elizabeth clapped her hands in delight. "Oh so soon!"

Mycroft coughed a little. "Perhaps we can have some starters before you exhaust, Marion too much with standing."

Marion shook her head and then returned to her seat. Mycroft took over the end. Sherlock dropped into a seat beside his wife. George sat next to Mycroft with his wife facing Marion. Elizabeth smiled. "This is lovely. I haven't had dinner with my boys since…since…" she frowned.

"Since I finished secondary school, mother." Sherlock said.

"Indeed." She said.

Marion smiled. "I hope we can do this more often."

Sherlock made a noise and Mycroft coughed a little. Marion stared her brother-in-law down as she dug her nails into her husband's thigh.

"I am sure that would be fun." Mycroft said sarcastically.

Sherlock winced and then looked at his wife who smile sweetly at him. "Yes, dear?"

"You know that family really isn't my…sounds lovely." He gasped as her nails dug deeper. "Ouch!" He grumbled.

The dinner progressed allowing the Holmes brothers to not speak much, just listen. Actually it was quite informative as to Marion's past. Sherlock listened as he ate his soup with half an ear as his mother grilled his wife about her life before marrying her son. She was open about it and Mycroft was listening attentively.

Marion had lamb, an interesting choice for a pregnant woman, Sherlock noted as he dug into his own meal of beef agnolotti with walnut sauce. "Sherlock dear, I was telling them how we met. Who won that match?" Marion asked.

"I won the first, you the second, and clearly also the third." He said nodding to her belly.

She smiled.

"The wedding was rather sudden." Elizabeth said.

"I rather surprised him with my pregnancy, Mum." She said. "I am just thankful he didn't run off?"

"What kind of a monster did you think I was?" Sherlock asked looking up. "I was going to support you." He moodily swirled his wine.

"And now…what are you having?" Elizabeth asked. Marion looked at her husband who was suppressing a smile. "Oh go on…I want to start shopping."

"She still is some months off mother." Mycroft said.

Marion looked up. "Let her be a grandmother. You aren't giving her any soon so let her have fun."

He rolled his eyes. "I suppose you are right. I am going to be an uncle though and a damn good one."

"Indeed. This I will have to see." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock play nice." Marion said.

"Sherlock has always been a little different. We have tried our hardest, but you seem to have made progress on him." George said. "You are to be commended my dear. We could hardly keep up with that mind of his. He and Mycroft both…"

Marion looked up. "I haven't changed him at all." She said. "Why would you say that?"

Sherlock gulped the last of his wine. "Welcome to the family my dear. They both are some of the best interrogators in the world."

"We are just making conversation." Elizabeth said looking affronted.

"Indeed." Sherlock said.

Marion sighed. "I haven't changed him. He can still be the most crass unbelievable asshole to walk this earth, but he is also charming and he has put many criminals away with his work. He does have a soul and he is a good man, though he tries to bury that in his cool egotistical nature."

"Wait hang on…" Sherlock started to protest.

Mycroft smiled into his wine. "She has you to the nines, little brother." He drank and smiled thoughtful. "And here I was thinking you had her under some of your hallucinogens."

"Mycroft…"

"Yes, Marion."

"Shut it." She said looking down at him. '

He coughed and suddenly became very interested in his napkin that was in his lap. The elder Holmes couple sat back in astonishment that this young woman have brought both Holmes brothers to heel.

Sherlock set down his fork and looked at her. "You think I am the crassest asshole to walk this earth and you still married me?"

"It's those eyes." She smiled at him playfully. She looked back at her in-laws. "Gets me every time."

He blinked at her. "I…"

She smiled at him gently. "Just because you are those things does not mean I do not love you, Sherlock Holmes. I know the real you. You are like Janus. You wear two faces and I know both and am grateful to know not only this you…" She pointed to his head, "But this you as well." She said touching his chest over his heart.

He looked down at her finger and then up at her. The look of affection in her eyes, let alone what her hand was secretly doing under the table on his thigh, made him search her eyes a moment before he moved, quicker than anyone could imagine and pulled her face to him and kissed her, deeply, startling everyone, including himself.

He pulled back and growled at her as his eyes narrowed. "Damn you." He muttered, knowing she had manipulated him into doing that to shock the hell out of his family. However, he was impressed and glad she had.

She quirked an eyebrow and then smiled. "I love you too, husband."

Mycroft's jaw was open, Elizabeth was beaming, and George's eyebrows were so high they looked cartoonish. Sherlock looked at them. "What?" He asked spreading his hands. "Mycroft, do close your mouth, it is unseemly."

Elizabeth giggled. "My God, Marion you are a breath of fresh air."

George nodded. "I am going to enjoy getting to know you."

Elizabeth smiled. "I see the locket suits you."

"Locket?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes. I sent it to her as part of her wedding gift, my son."

Sherlock looked at it. That was why it looked so familiar. It was a family heirloom. From his grandmother. She had commented on her deathbed that she had wanted a granddaughter to have it and failing that, a wife to one of her two grandsons.

He touched it. It was a large locket, but delicate all the same, made of white gold, it was well worn, and fit Marion's typical casual style. He smiled at her.

Dinner finished, Marion stood up and reached for her phone. She smiled. "I need to go to the loo. Won't be a moment." She said.

They nodded and she walked down to the washroom. Inside she leaned against the door a moment. Have you had enough family time, brother? I will give you a ring in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

Upstairs, Mycroft's phone alerted and he looked at the text. He then narrowed his eyes a little. The little minx was letting him get out easy. It then rang. "Holmes." He said.

"You are free, brother."

"Oh, dear, that is not good, I will be in the office shortly."

"Regards." She said and hung up as she then went into a stall. As she was washing her hands she heard her phone chime. She looked down.

I owe you. My thanks as ever. Send my regards to my parents. See you soon, sister. MH

She smiled and walked back upstairs finding her husband dressed in his coat, holding hers. She stepped into it. "Sherlock, I just got a call from Mrs. Hudson. She said there might be something wrong with the plumbing. She was wondering if you could have a look."

"Why doesn't she call a plumber?" He asked.

Mari tapped her phone behind her as she stood. "Actually she insisted on you since you are the man of the house and all…"

"John is somewhere and…" His phone buzzed. He flicked the code and looked. I am letting you get out of here before the play. Take it and run you idiot. Love you.

His eyes lifted. "Oh my, John isn't there, I just remembered. You are right, being the father-to-be that I am, I need to make sure it is all well and…" Mari leaned up to straighten his collar.

"Don't overdo it." She whispered as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. She then said louder. "Thank you husband. I am sure she will appreciate it."

He smiled and kissed her lightly and then turned to his parents. "Off to save the world. Sorry about the play."

"It is all right. I will allow us to get to know the mother of our grandchild better." George said. "Tuttle off then."

"Tuttling." Sherlock smiled and then nodded to his wife. "See you when you get home."

She watched him flick his coat collar up and call a cab.

Elizabeth took her arm. "So, tell me, has Sherlock improved on his cooking at all?"

"You mean is it still nonexistent? Yes it is." Mari smiled.

ZzZ

It was well after midnight when Mari returned home. She sighed and removed her coat. Her husband was sitting in his chair, hands together, looking into space as he sat, thinking. She removed her shoes and walked to the side of him.

She touched his cheek softly as she looked at him. He looked up at her. "Hello." He said softly.

"Hello." She said.

"How was it? As tedious as I thought."

"No, they are wonderful people and surprisingly ordinary." She smiled at him and then dropped into the other chair swinging her legs over the edge. "You both are enigmas to them."

"We always were." He said.

"I didn't expect you to still be awake."

He smiled. "I am often awake at this hour. I am just not a morning person." He said looking at her.

He rose to his feet. "Come now, you need sleep." He said. He offered his hands. She nodded and he pulled her up to her feet. She stifled a yawn and then looked about a moment before he pulled her toward the bedroom.

He looked at her. "Really, the crassest asshole…" He said pausing in the door.

"Well you are." She said.

He chuckled. "I know." He smiled. "Half the fun was watching mother look up at you when you swore."

"Was it bad?"

"I enjoyed it." He pulled her into the room. She giggled as he shut the door.

ZzZ

The next morning she was in making some tea with Mrs. Hudson. She felt a pain and passed it off as nothing. It was the day before her birthday. Mrs. Hudson was chattering about something on the television and Mari was only half listening.

She carried the tray upstairs and found her husband playing the violin. He was dressed, but he had a dressing gown on his body, opened, allowing for freedom of movement to play. She set down the tray and then dropped into the chair with some crackers.

She hissed a little in pain and Mrs. Hudson looked at her. "Are you alright dear?"

"Yes." She said smiling.

Sherlock did not stop playing, but he had heard.

She shifted about restlessly as he played looking out the window at the rain. He counted twice more that her breath caught. He turned this time and saw her wincing and holding her belly. His eyes narrowed as he set down his violin and moved to his desk. He pulled on his scarf and his Belstaff 'Milford' overcoat on. The coat was like his friend and went with him nearly everywhere.

He then fetched his wife's coat. "Come on then." He said a little impatiently.

"What?" She asked looking up at him.

He shook his head. "That was the fourth contraction you have had this hour and they are causing you pain."

"They are nothing…"

"You are far too early to go into labor and I wish to make sure you are not starting a miscarriage."

"A…" she looked at him and her eyes suddenly held panic. "Sherlock…no…I can't…No!" She shouted at him.

He realized she was now panicked and he pulled her into his arms. "Hush…calm. It is something. Come. Let us get it checked." He told her. "For me." He asked pressing his lips to her hair.

She nodded, weeping as he helped her into her coat. They flagged an umbrella and he looked at her. "Mari…focus on me. Stop thinking about the bad. Look at me!" He said.

She did. She looked up at him, half blinded from the tears.

"Where to?"

"Saint Barts." Sherlock said not looking at the cabbie.

ZzZ

The cab arrived and Sherlock pulled his wife from the cab and rushed her into the hospital. She was white as a ghost as she was ushered into a room. Sherlock stood near her, caressing her hair as much to soothe her as himself.

The doctor saw her and listened to what they both had to say and then smiled a little. "It is good you came in for pains that frequent, but have they gotten worse?"

"No. I haven't had one since we left the flat, either." She said.

He nodded. "Good."

"Good?" Sherlock asked looking at him.

"Yes. Those are contractions, but they are not anything to worry about. They are Braxton-Hicks, otherwise known as false labor." The kind doctor smiled.

"So she has not miscarried?" Sherlock asked.

"No." The doctor said. He lifted a device to her abdomen. The heartbeat was steady and the same as it had been before."

Sherlock took a deep breath.

"She should be on bed rest for at least the next couple of days to be safe, but then she can resume normal activities. You need to take more frequent rests my dear." He smiled. "Try resting on your left side. It helps with blood flow."

She nodded.

ZzZ

Once home Sherlock ushered her to bed. John looked up from the chair even as Sherlock walked, his hands on his wife's hips as he pushed her toward the bedroom. Once there he had her sit on the bed and then lay down on her side after getting into her nightdress.

"Sherlock, I am fine. He means to let me relax. I don't have to be in bed the whole time."

He grunted and then removed his coat and scarf and then sat behind her, his hand going to her wrist to count her pulse.

However, the bed was comfortable and she relaxed and soon slept as he gently braided and unbraided her hair as he sat behind her. Once she was asleep, he tip-toed out of the room and sighed as he saw John.

John looked up questioningly.

"She had a scare." He said. "Well we had a scare. She had some rather strong Braxton-Hicks contractions. She is to be on bed rest for two days."

"Her birthday is tomorrow."

"She needs to relax."

"Good luck making her."

Sherlock sighed. "I can be persuasive."

John shook his head. "She will rebel."

"Perhaps. For now she sleeps. It is good."

ZzZ

Mari slept much of the day and had woken for dinner. Sherlock refused to allow her to walk. He had carried her out for some soup and bread he had gotten at a local bakery. It was delicious and would fill her up. He had also laced the soup with a small amount of melatonin to help her sleep more.

When she was done she yawned and he carried her back to their room and the haven of the large sleigh bed he had. He laid her down and she blinked at him sleepily. He then played his violin.

He stopped when she was snoring lightly, halfway on his pillow, holding it as though it was him. He sighed and shook his head as he laid his hand on her belly. The baby shifted under his hand and he felt something distinctively like a small foot against his palm.

He smiled dipping down and kissing the swell softly before he went out into the other room to read until he became tired.

ZzZ

January 31, 2011

Mari woke and sat up, stretching. Sherlock was facing away from her, on his stomach, sleeping soundly and lightly snoring. He was still in his dressing gown and so he had been so tired that he had not taken it off when he had come to bed.

She smiled and snuggled up against his back and pressed a kissed to his shoulder as she wrapped an arm about him. "Sherlock." She whispered.

He grumbled something unintelligible and rolled over so his face was to her. He looked so young when he slept. She smiled and looked at him before she sighed and snuggled against his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

"Sherlock…" she said softly.

He muttered again and this time she grabbed his face and kissed him. He was fully awake as his eyes flew open and he grunted as she held him there before letting him go. He looked at her somewhat between annoyed and wanting to pounce on her.

"Morning." She giggled.

"Do you have any idea how little I have slept?"

"You run on nicotine anyway so why are you even here?"

"Fair point." He said shifting. He looked at the clock. "Actually I did sleep for about six hours."

She smiled. "Good, breakfast time." She said moving to rise, but a hand caught her arm. "Crapes are calling my name."

"Oh no, you don't. You are still on bed rest. Doctor's orders."

"But…you promised…"

"I will take you for brunch in a couple days when you are better." He said softly. "I made that promise before I had to take you to hospital."

"But…" she pouted a little and sighed lying back and rolled onto her side and shook her head.

"Marion…"

"Go away." She said shakily.

He blinked. How was it that women could go from fun and flirty on moment and then be a sobbing mess the next. He shook his head and rose to his feet. He walked around the bed looking at her. Her eyes were closed as tears dripped down her face.

Part of him hated himself and he wasn't really sure why. He walked from the room and noticed John there drinking coffee.

"Morning."

"Morning."

"Where is the birthday girl?" John asked.

"Sulking." Sherlock said lifting his violin up to play.

"So are you."

"What?"

"So are you?"

Sherlock paused and pointed at the bedroom with his bow. "She is the one who is crying for making her stay there. It is not my fault the doctor told me she needed rest."

"You are defensive. You really hate seeing her upset don't you?"

Sherlock made a face. "Women. A curious breed."

ZzZ

Marion had stayed in bed all day as she was supposed to. She was reading on her tablet and ignored her husband when he came in to dress. He had told her not to leave the bed and that he had a case, he would return before dinner. She had ignored him, though he knew she heard. He had sighed and kissed her hair and left her in the care of Mrs. Hudson who had brought her tea.

Mari had only left the bed to use the washroom, but otherwise had stayed put.

It was dark when her husband returned to her. He had spoken with the other two occupants of the home and they giggled as they both left. Sherlock made a tray up with the fresh crapes and berries he had bought. He then topped them with clotted cream. He made some tea, a skill he learned from John who called it "survival", and then put a card and small rose in a tiny vase on the tray. With everything perfect he moved to the bedroom.

"Mari?" He asked.

No answer.

He opened the door and looked in. He chuckled a little. "Come off it, you aren't sleeping." He said in a teasing way.

She shifted and muttered something.

"Come on now. Breakfast, darling."

"Breakfast?" She asked. "It is half of nine, Sherlock. PM."

He smiled. "I know."

He then went to her and pulled her up setting the pillows behind her so she sat up. She gasped and tried to stop him, but when he was done, she was quite comfortable. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"Fulfilling a promise." He said smiling as he bent and lifted the tray up to her knees.

She looked at the tray and gasped. "Crapes…" She whispered. "For dinner…" Her voice cracked.

He smiled a little and sat down beside her. She noted there were two plates and some two cups. She blinked at him in non-understanding.

"It is your birthday, my love, so I brought your food to you." He said.

"But this is breakfast."

"Yes. And I promised to get you crapes on your birthday didn't I. From Frederick? He sends his love by the way." He smiled at her. "You should eat them while they are still warm."

She smiled then and then dove in as he lifted on himself and ate it smiling at the delight on her face. He sipped the tea and cocked his head at her as she ate her fill. She had some cream on her nose. He smiled and leaned forward. "Happy birthday, my darling." He said before licking the cream off and kissing her softly.

"You…you planned this…"

"Well you are only thirty once and I did promise…" He said sitting back.

She spotted the card and lifted it. She opened it as he sat back to eat his other crape, watching her out of the corner of his eye as he chewed. It was in his scrolling hand that he did when he actually wanted someone to be impressed.

Thirty years.

How amazingly brilliant? You are thirty this day and I cannot believe that soon we will be married a year and bring a child into this world together. I realize now what was missing in my life? I did not have someone who I could love and cherish. Love, before was something of a distraction, and unneeded nuisance, but now I have grown to understand what it means to be so blessed.

Love and affection

The crassest asshole on the Planet.

She looked up at him. "You really are never going to let that go are you?" She asked.

"What? Oh no." He smiled at her.

"Sherlock…" She looked up at him. "I didn't mean for you to take that so personal…"

"Oh wait." He said. He lifted a box from his pocket.

She looked at him. "You are not the jewelry giving type."

"I gave you pearls."

"Which I love, but you are more of a flowers and chocolates type."

"One is eaten and the other dies. How does that show love?"

She opened the box to reveal a ring. She put a hand to her mouth as she saw the garnets woven white gold band. He watched her, his hands pressed together. "This seemed to be the best wedding band for you since you love Celtic and garnets are your birthstone." He smiled and took the box and removed the ring.

He put it on her finger and then looked at her. "With this ring…"

"I thee wed." She said. She beckoned him to her. He shifted and sat beside her, facing her as she looked at him from her pillow nest. "I love you, Mr. Holmes." She smiled. "So much." She lifted her chin, her voice unsteady. "This is what I mean. The real you. The man behind the curtain." She shook her head. "The man I love so much with all my being."

"As I you." He whispered and lifted her chin with his finger. He kissed her, deeply before he pulled back. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Happy birthday, sweetheart." He said before wrapping his arms about her and kissing her again.

"The best." She whispered. "The best Sherlock."