The following weeks continued as normal… almost. Sherlock continued to take cases in between looking after Marie as her stomach grew larger and larger and her emotional swings fluctuated at increasingly distant ends of the spectrum.

The Case of the Dusty Death

"He drowned, Mr. Holmes." The lady stated as Sherlock paced around while on his phone. "That's what we thought. But when they opened up his lungs..."

"Yes?" Mary asked intently from where she sat beside John, and the lady said in a hushed voice: "Sand."

"Superficial." Sherlock huffed, and then turned back to his phone as it whistled with a new message, while Marie sighed from her seat on his chair.

Another time

"Marie, I really wouldn't recommend eating that." Sherlock informed Marie as she sat digging into the tub of ice cream. "Or, well, Mrs. Hudson said I shouldn't let you eat that."

"Why not?" Marie demanded, and Sherlock shrugged: "It's supposedly not healthy."

"You think I'm fat?" Marie asked sharply, and Sherlock paused before he answered: "That's not what I was going for."

"You paused." Marie pointed out, and Sherlock sighed: "That's not-"

"So you do think I'm fat?" She retorted, and Sherlock demanded: "How did you even come to that conclusion?"

The Case of the Wrong Thumb

Sherlock examined the thumb his latest client had dropped off, and he called: "Come back! It's the wrong thumb."

He looked up, just as the front door slammed downstairs.

"Where'd he go?" Sherlock demanded, and Marie shrugged as she walked in with a cup of tea.

"I don't know, maybe he left after you made that deduction about his girlfriend?" Marie teased as she sat down beside Sherlock.

"It was perfectly obvious." Sherlock scoffed, and Marie chuckled: "Maybe for you."

"And you." Sherlock pointed out, and Marie grinned at him.

A different time

"Sherlock, don't forget we have an appointment with the obstetrician." Marie reminded him. "This Friday; we haven't been once since I confirmed my pregnancy."

"Do we have to?" He groaned, and Marie just gave him a look.

"Yes."

The Case of the Duplicate Man

John stood staring down at the photos of Dennis Parkinson, the array showing the murdered man in two different places at the same time, even managing to get murdered in on of them.

"Sherlock-" John began, but Sherlock cut him off, not even looking up from his phone as he said flatly: "It's never twins."

Friday

"I can't believe you forgot." John scolded Sherlock, who winced.

They'd burst into the hospital after Sherlock remembered belatedly about the appointment. They'd discovered the appointment had just ended, and Marie and Mary – who had come as moral support – would be out in a few minutes, and John was using that time to lecture Sherlock.

"Sherlock, this is your wife and kid!" John argued, and Sherlock muttered: "Yes, I know, I said I was sorry!"

"You've got a lot of apologizing ahead of you, if you think you're going to make it out of this one." John warned. "Poor Marie-"

He broke off as the doctor's office door opened, and a very pale Marie walked out, half supported by Mary.

"Marie!" John gasped, while Sherlock strode forward quickly as he asked sharply: "What's wrong?"

"Oh, you took your sweet time." Mary huffed, and Sherlock scowled: "Maybe later, Mary."

Mary folded her arms as Sherlock took Marie in his arms, and she slowly lifted her green eyes to meet his worried brown ones as he questioned: "What is it? What happened? Are you all right?"

"I… " Marie began shakily, as though she was slowly recovering from shock. "We…"

"Marie?" Sherlock almost begged, and Marie whispered: "I'm carrying twins."

Sherlock blinked, Mary glared accusingly, and John couldn't stop the half-surprised, half-amused snort that escaped him.

The Case of the Circus Torso and the Case of the Canary Trainer

"Hopkins, arrest Wilson. Dimmock, look in the lymph nodes." Sherlock ordered shortly to his laptop, while he continued to type away at his phone.

"Wilson?" Hopkins asked, bewildered, on her video chat while Dimmock questioned: "Lymph nodes?"

"Sherlock..." Mary said warningly, but he spoke over her as he snapped impatiently at the video chat window with Dimmock: "Yes, you may have nothing but a limbless torso, but there'll be traces of ink in the lymph nodes under the armpits. If your mystery corpse had tattoos, the signs will be there."

"Bloody hell!" Dimmock gasped, just as Marie walked in with a cup of tea. "Is that a guess?"

"I never guess." Sherlock retorted as he closed the video chat with Dimmock, and Mary said again: "Sherlock..."

"So, he's the killer?" Hopkins asked in your video call. "The canary trainer?"

"Of course he's the killer." Sherlock scoffed, while Marie told Mary with a sigh: "Don't bother – I've tried."

"Didn't see that coming." Hopkins stated, and Sherlock scoffed: "Hm, naturally."

He shut the feed with Hopkins as well, still typing furiously on his phone, and John tried to interject worriedly: "Sherlock, you can't go on spinning plates like this."

Suddenly, Sherlock stopped typing and gasped as he looked up: "That's it! The place was spinning."

A few days later

"Seriously, Sherlock, this is worrying." John told his friend. "I'm worried about you, and quite frankly I'm worried about Marie – you should be taking care of her more right now."

"I am." Sherlock retorted. "I'm making sure she gets everything she needs, stopping her from eating unhealthily – which, quite frankly is an accomplishment coming from me – and giving her massages."

"Yes, and every other minute of the day you're solving cases!" John argued, but Marie interrupted amusedly: "Oh, John, it's fine. He needs it."

"How can this be fine?" John demanded while Mary raised a brow as Sherlock turned away.

Mary examined the detective, before she said flatly: "You're scared of becoming a father, aren't you?"

Marie grinned at her friend, while John's mouth fell open and Sherlock immediately disputed: "No."

"Dear, Lord." John sighed, and Mary snorted.

The Case of the Cardiac Arrest

"The heart medication you're taking is known to cause bouts of amnesia?" Sherlock asked as he walked passed his latest client, Joel Fentiman.

"Yes, I... I think so." Joel answered, frowning slightly. "Why?"

"Because the fingerprints on your brother's neck were your own." Sherlock replied as he settled into his chair, not even looking up from his phone.

A different day

"Sherlock," Marie said in a warning tone, "please put the phone down, sometimes?"

"I am." He answered quickly, setting his phone down swiftly, but Marie pointed out: "You haven't stopped solving a crime, or looking for one, on that phone for the last fourteen hours."

"Has it only been fourteen?" Sherlock asked, genuinely surprised, and Marie threatened: "Keep this up, and I'm going to stay at your parents' house until the babies arrives."

Sherlock balked.

Bad day

"A jellyfish?" John chortled as he walked up the stairs to Sherlock's flat, and Sherlock agreed as he followed: "I know."

"You can't arrest a jellyfish." John laughed, and Sherlock shrugged: "You could try."

"We did try." John answered, still amused, when his phone vibrated. Several times.

He pulled it out, wondering what was going on, and Sherlock picked up his own phone as John unlocked his to find…

"Oh... Oh, God." John murmured as he checked his phone, and Sherlock questioned: "Mary?"

"59 missed calls." John confirmed, and Sherlock's eyes widened.

"We're in a lot of trouble." He muttered as he turned and raced back down the stairs.

A little later

"AH! Ow!" Mary screamed as she clutched her stomach while trying to breathe. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

"Relax," John stated as he drove as quickly as he dared, "it's got two syllables-"

"I'm a nurse, darling," Mary snarled, "I think I know what to do!"

She broke off with a pained breath, and Marie encouraged from the passenger seat: "You can do this, Mary."

"OH!" Mary groaned, and John urged: "Come on, then..."

"Re!" Mary gasped out, and John finished as he let out a deep breath with Mary, trying to encourage her: "Lax!"

"No, just drive, please, God, just drive!" Mary cried as she started squirming in the back seat, trying to fight the pain of contractions, and Marie glanced back. "God, drive! AH!"

"Sherlock." Marie ordered as she saw her husband still texting away on his phone. "Mary."

"That's it, Mary." Sherlock said carelessly, still typing. "Re..."

"Don't you start!" Mary snarled, and Sherlock paused in his typing to look at her as he finished lamely: "...lax."

Marie gave him a look while Mary growled and then smacked Sherlock's head. Except then she felt another contraction, stronger than the others, and her grip on Sherlock's head tightened, shoving him into the car window as she gasped: "John, John... I think you have to pull over!"

"Mary, Mary..." John tried to calm her, but Mary shouted: "Pull over!"

"Oh, my God!" Sherlock gasped as he stared at Mary, or more specifically her lower stomach, while she screamed: "AH!"


A few days later: 14 February 2015

John and Mary beamed as a flash burst, and Mrs. Hudson asked anxiously as she held the camera: "Has that come out? Oh, they never come out when I take them."

"Let's have a look." Molly said kindly, reaching for the camera as John smiled while Mary patted and soothed their newborn in her arms, the happy family sitting on their living room sofa while Mrs. Hudson tried to take a photo of them.

"Aw, she's so beautiful." Mrs. Hudson cooed, staring lovingly at the baby in Mary's arms, and Marie smiled while Molly handed the camera back to Mrs. Hudson with a murmured: "Have another go."

"It's okay, I got one." Marie informed her, showing her the picture she'd taken on her cell phone.

Molly looked over, smiling widely at the sweet photo, while Mrs. Hudson turned to the Watsons and asked eagerly: "What about a name?"

"Catherine." John answered, and Marie raised a brow.

She then snorted as Mary quickly interjected: "Uh, yeah, we've gone off that."

"Have we?" John asked, and Mary reminded him: "Yeah."

"Oh." John just shrugged, when Sherlock piped up from the corner of the room where he'd been texting away on his phone: "Well, you know what I think..."

"It's not a girl's name." Mary and John answered at the same time while Marie rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

Sherlock smiled slightly, while John added: "Marie, Molly, Mrs. H, we would love you to be godparents."

"Oh!" Mrs. Hudson sniffled while Molly laughed and Marie smiled.

"If you..." John trailed off, the answer clear as Mrs. Hudson beamed and Molly asked eagerly: "Really?"

"Of course." Mary answered, and Marie leaned over carefully to kiss her friend's cheek. Mary smiled back as Marie nodded, before she moved back so Molly and Mrs. Hudson could come over and coo over the baby, while John walked over to Sherlock.

"And, uh... you too, Sherlock?" John asked, letting out a slight exasperated sigh as he saw Sherlock still on his phone.

"You too what?" Sherlock asked as Marie walked over, and John said with a raised brow: "Godfather, we'd like you to be godfather."

"God is a ludicrous fiction, dreamt up by inadequates who abnegate all responsibility to an invisible magic friend." Sherlock answered.

"Yeah, but there'll be cake." John said firmly. "Will you do it?"

Sherlock glanced at him, and then muttered: "I'll get back to you."

"He'll be there." Marie corrected as she came up to them, and Sherlock rolled his eyes when he froze. Marie had paused mid-step, her hand going to her stomach and her eyes going wide.

"John, we're going to need to borrow your car." Sherlock said urgently, dropping his phone for once while John blinked.

"Why-?" He began, when Marie whimpered: "Oh God, oh God, oh God."

John's eyes widened, Mary looked around in alarm, and Mrs. Hudson and Molly frowned in concern as Marie took deep breaths between whimpers.

"As I said, God is a lud-" Sherlock began, and Marie snapped: "Shut up, get the car!"

A little later… again

"AH!"

"Re-" Sherlock began, and Marie snarled: "Don't even try."

"All right, it was worth a shot." Sherlock muttered, and John said severely from his seat beside Marie at the back: "Sherlock."

"Shut up, and just drive!" Marie cried, gripping the car seat tightly, and Sherlock muttered: "Of course your contractions would come quickly."

"Sherlock!" John scolded while Marie cried: "This was your fault, not mine!"

"Technically-" Sherlock began, when she screamed in pain: "AH!"

"All right, driving!" He said in alarm, and John glanced briefly away from Marie and out the car window.

He started, and he asked: "Christ, Sherlock, what speed are you going at?!"

"Well…" Sherlock trailed off, before he said abruptly: "John, hold Marie steady!"

"What-?" John began, when Sherlock slammed the brakes.

They almost went flying forwards, John hurriedly using his body to brace Marie, and Sherlock was already out the door as John slowly recovered.

"Come on." Sherlock said impatiently as he wrenched open the back door, and John demanded: "How were you not stopped on the road?"

"Mycroft." Was all Sherlock said, before Marie screamed again.


A few days later… again

"Aw!" Mrs. Hudson beamed as she took the photo of Marie and the newborn twins – Sherlock having refused outright to have a photo taken – while Molly smiled widely beside her.

They were gathered once more, this time at Baker Street, and John grinned at Marie as Mary rocked their baby girl in her arms beside him. Sherlock had backed away from the camera, but now that picture time was safely over he moved back to take one of the twins from Marie, holding his daughter awkwardly but securely.

"Who'd have ever thought it?" Mrs. Hudson sighed as Molly moved to the sofa to congratulate Marie and coo at the baby boy in her arms. "Sherlock, becoming a father!"

"Yes, well, it happens to the best of us." Sherlock muttered, but his expression betrayed him as he stared down with a soft smile at his daughter in his arms.

Since they'd been born, the twins had been an infinite source of curiosity and awe for the detective. And though he claimed otherwise, he'd been wrapped around their thumb since day one when he'd looked at their tiny faces. Born at thirty seven weeks, the twins had arrived perfectly on time and been proclaimed healthy to the very proud parents and close friends.

Though Greg had laughed over the phone at the irony of whom he called the most unromantic person's (Sherlock) kids being born on Valentine's Day, of all days.

"Oh, she looks just like her father, with her brown curls and blue eyes." Mrs. Hudson sighed happily, peering at the baby in Sherlock's arms, while Molly said admiringly: "But he got his mother's eyes."

She indicated the baby boy in Marie's arms, who blinked back with said eyes as Marie chuckled.

"And have you decided on names yet?" Mrs. Hudson asked eagerly, looking between Sherlock and Marie.

"Yes." Sherlock answered shortly, before Marie could, and John raised a brow in surprise.

"What did you decide in the end?" Molly asked curiously, and Marie replied: "Scott John Holmes," Mrs. Hudson squealed while Mary nudged an abashed but grinning John, "and Sheryl Mckayla Holmes."

"You actually went with Sheryl in the end?" John asked, laughing, and Sherlock sighed: "Yes, Marie persisted."

"You did say Sherlock was a girl's name." Marie teased, and Mary laughed: "I think it's perfect – they're both perfect."

She smiled at Sherlock, who rolled his eyes at all the sentiment going around, when Marie began: "Oh, and Mrs. Hudson, Molly, John, Mary; we'd love it if you could be guardians for the twins."

"Aw, not godparents?" Mary teased, and Marie laughed: "Well, since neither Sherlock or I belief in faith… We're also going to ask Greg."

"Who?" Sherlock asked, and Marie sighed: "Lestrade."

"Oh. We are?" He asked, and Marie answered firmly: "Yes, Sherlock. We are."

She turned back to their friends as she asked: "Molly, we were hoping you and Greg would be Scott's guardian, and John, Mary, and Mrs. Hudson, if you would be Sheryl's?"

"We'd love to." Mary answered warmly, and Marie smiled back gratefully as Molly added: "The honour's all ours."

"Hmm." Sherlock hummed, shrugging away their smiles, but John just chuckled and clasped a hand on his friend's shoulder, and Sherlock finally cracked a smile for them as they all chatted happily around the new lives about to start.

*A/N Spiegel means mirror in German.