A Gift and A Curse

Chapter 12

4 weeks later:

The front door slammed shut for the eleventh – no twelfth time that morning. Most of the midwives Sherlock had scared off had seemed extremely insulted and promised to carry out an array of threats ranging from calling the police to incanting voodoo spells.

But the one who had just left had been the first time to cry. But she didn't just cry, oh no, she had a whole fucking mental breakdown.

As it so happened, that particular young woman had lost her own baby a few months back and Jane was the first patient she had seen since her tragic loss. And, to add insult to injury, Sherlock had asked whether the death of her child was her fault.

That was when she first started to cry but what it transgress into a full blown breakdown was when Sherlock, oh so innocently asked;

"So, are you intending on any more children or did your attacker damage your body too badly?"

Jane literally wanted to die. But then she realised that she didn't want to die. Oh no, she wanted him to die. Slowly. And painfully by spoon. And have it made to look like an accident. Yes, that was what she wanted.

She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on her breathing. She couldn't get angry. That would only increase her blood pressure which wouldn't do either of them any good. By them, she thought of the baby. Not Sherlock.

She rested her hand on her slightly protruding stomach when she heard footsteps pound up the stairs. She was only two months along and was just starting to show. Really, there was no need for a midwife for another month but Jane wanted to get it done.

When she heard the springs of the chair opposite her squeak she knew he was back in the room. She was determined she wasn't going to lose her patience over this. When she opened her eyes, Sherlock slid further down in his chair.

"I know that was very not good and I apologised profoundly and I'm sorry…?" He grimaced slightly at the end.

Jane knew she'd already forgiven him but there was no real harm in toying with him for a while. After all, she was bored…

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Both-either. Which one would you prefer at this particular moment in time?"

Jane fixed him with a hard glare. The kind of glare she'd developed during her time in the army. And, according to the way Sherlock shifted uncomfortably in his seat, she had mastered it as well.

"I want a bath. Put the lavender bath cream in there and I expect a cup of tea and you to give me a massage afterwards, understand?"

Sherlock nodded wordlessly.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Go on!" She thrust her hand in the general direction of the door.

When the World's Only Consulting Detective practically leapt out of his chair and bounded towards the bathroom upstairs, Jane couldn't help but stifle a laugh. She'd go easier on him once he'd run the bath.

He was trying, after all.

He'd been a lot more subdued since the 'Incident' and had paid a lot more attention to her needs, physically and emotionally. For instance, he'd stopped conducting experiments all together, when Lestrade offered him a case he would generally turn it down if he couldn't solve it within the first five minutes of being informed.

At first, Jane thought she'd quite enjoyed the new Sherlock. But there was something quite unnerving at Sherlock not being Sherlock. It felt wrong. Jane knew she had to do something to fix it.

She was about to get up and head to the bathroom herself when a cup of Camomile tea was shoved under her face. Jane looked sideways to see Mrs. Hudson smiling sympathetically at her.

Jane took the cup and thanked her. Mrs. Hudson moved stiffly to Sherlock's chair and gently lowered herself down.

"Is your hip still hurting you?" Jane asked, more than a little concern at how Mrs. Hudson's hip had been acting up a little more often lately.

Mrs. Hudson waved her hand in the air to dismiss it. "Oh it's just a little twinge because I sat for so long. It'll be alright once I move."

"Mrs. Hudson I really to think you should see a doctor about your hip."

"Oh Jane! I'm telling you there is no need! You should not be worrying about me in your state."

"Promise me that you'll see a doctor this week, if you don't I swear I'll pester you until you do."

Mrs. Hudson smiled, "Alright, alright, I promise. Now, tell me what happened. I saw the young woman that just went out sobbing on Sherlock's shoulder. I suppose it was a client was it?"

"Uh…no actually." John placed the cup of tea on the armrest of the chair. "We were looking for a midwife. I tried to convince him that a NHS midwife would do and that generally you don't interview midwives, but no. He insists that we go private and that we interview them. But I know he only wants what's best for this little one. Even if he'll never say it." She rubbed her stomach thoughtfully.

Mrs. Hudson smiled sadly. "I know. Well, it sounds like you're going private whether you like it or not. Mind you, I can talk, I'm with Bupa. How many midwives did you interview?"

"T…twelve. Yeah, twelve."

"And you thought none of them were suitable?" Mrs. Hudson asked in disbelief.

"Apparently not, according to him."

Mrs. Hudson laughed cheerfully. "Well, that's unfortunately probably down to me. On one of his cases, oh it was nasty one…it was to do with a midwife killing off newborns, anyway, he asked me about some of the techniques used and I apparently supplied him with the information he needed."

"Hold on, you were a midwife?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. I retired a good few years back, mind you."

"Really? Well –" Before Jane could continue the doorbell rang.

"Oh I'll get it, you stay here, Jane." Mrs. Hudson shot up out of the chair and down the stairs with surprising agility, defying all previous mention of a dodgy hip. Moments later the door was opened and Mrs. Hudson's voice travelled up the stairs;

"Sherlock! It's for you!"

Jane heard Sherlock stomp hurriedly down the stairs and greet the visitor at the door. Jane heard muffled voices and two sets of feet climbed back up the stairs. Jane stood up to greet whoever was entering.

It was two men. One was Sherlock. The other was the midwife. But that was not what surprised Jane. No, what sent shivers up Jane's spine was the fact that the young man extended his hand to her and said;

"Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Neil Moran. Please call me Neil." In an Irish accent.

Jane froze. Every muscle in her body tensed.

Moran.

Irish.

Moran.

Irish.

Moran.

Irish.

Moran

Irish.

When some control was restored to her tongue, Jane smiled kindly. "Hello, Jane Watson. Um…I'm terribly sorry, Neil but the position has already been filled. I am sorry that you took all the time and effort to hear that but don't worry, we'll pay for your taxi home."

She gave him her best 'lovely young woman' smile and showed him out the door. Signalling behind Neil's back to Sherlock to get him out. Sherlock, thankfully, complied without question.

When he came back upstairs there was a look of confusion on his face.

"Who 'filled the position'? Who did you choose?"

"Mrs. Hudson. Now, is my bath ready?"

Author's Note: Hello *waves* I just wanted to say that the next couple of chapters are going to be a bit drabble-ish mainly because I want to show how the developing pregnancy affects all of them...but mainly Sherlock. But after the baby is born (yes, I've chosen a name or potential names because it could either be a boy or a girl (; ) but after that it will be back to chapters that lead into each other. So yes, please stick through it and enjoy! xxx