The Bet
24 weeks (6 months)
How it ended up with Jane sharing a cup of water with Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan was still a bit of a mystery to her but what surprised her the most was the fact that she was actually enjoying the chat they were having.
It had all started when Sherlock had woken her in the morning, thrown clothes on top of her, then threw them on her when she apparently wasn't dressing 'quick enough', bundled her into a waiting taxi and all but threw her into the Staff Room at Scotland Yard and told her to wait until he got back.
The only other person in the Staff Room had been Sergeant Sally Donovan. The two women had regarded each other for a moment, then Sally put the cheese sandwich, which had previously been halfway towards her mouth, down on the OK magazine on the table in front of her and said;
"I see fishing didn't work out for you then. So I take it you're more than just a colleague now?"
"Something like that." Jane said as she slid down onto the poorly padded blue cheap desk chair.
Sally bit her lip before rising and moving towards the sink. "Cuppa?"
Jane shook her head. "Can't. This one won't let me." Her hand went instinctively to her stomach. "But don't let that stop you." She added, finding herself somewhat sympathetic to the fact that Sally's lunch break was probably ruined.
"Thanks but I've had one already. Do you want anything else? Milk? Water?"
"Water would be nice, thanks."
"Kay." Sally moved over to one of the overhead cabinets and clicked her tongue in annoyance when she saw only cups were left. "Men. Bloody pigs. Can't even wash a bloody glass. Just once they could act like civilised human beings."
"Rough time with...?" Jane let the question hang in the air.
"You mean Anderson? Don't get me fucking started."
Jane thought carefully about what she was about to say next, coming to the conclusion that it wouldn't hurt to talk about it.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Nah, it's alright. If I start I won't stop and anyway...I do sort of work with you so I do want to keep some of my professional pride." Sally returned to the table, she placed a cup in front of Jane and one next to her lunch.
"Anyway, what business has he got doing here? I haven't heard of any cases that would be up his street." Sally asked, before taking a bite out of her cheese sandwich.
"You know, I think that's the first time I haven't heard call him 'freak'." Jane said calmly and, which to her slight pleasure, brought a blush to Sally's cheeks.
"Well, you and him are having a baby...uh...congratulations by the way...and he hasn't walked out on you...so I suppose I can respect him...temporarily. That and the fact that my brother's having a baby and I know how touchy his girlfriend's become. It's like she's developed bi-polar disorder. So I really am not going to say anything to upset an ex-army, doctor am I? I'm not that much of an idiot."
Jane couldn't resist the urge to smile. She and Sally had had never truly disliked each other; in some ways they were quite similar. Both were independent women with careers that depended heavily on competing with the rest. Jane could appreciate Sally's immense dislike of Sherlock. Sometimes, she couldn't stand the bastard, it was hard to imagine a woman like Sally trying to compete with Sherlock. A man who constantly stole her limelight, never let her do her job, criticised and humiliated her publically.
"I never thought you were an idiot and the answer to your question is that I don't know...he won't tell me."
"He won't tell you?" Sally raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean he won't tell you?"
"None of them will." Jane said, not even bothering to keep the annoyance from her voice.
"Them? Hold on, who's 'them'?" Sally frowned, and took another small bite.
"The fucking League of Gentlemen. I swear to God they've been getting on my tits."
Sally snorted so hard she nearly spat out the remnants of her cheese sandwich. She put a hand over her mouth and laughed, almost hysterically.
"And! They think I haven't noticed their little rendezvous. Their texts at all bloody hours and now he's dragged me in here. You know, he hasn't left my side for a whole month. He won't even let me go to the shop downstairs by myself."
"Maybe he's just worried about your well-being. First time fathers can be a pain in the arse too." Sally half-hearted offered the explanation.
"Nah...there's something going on. I can tell and your boss is in on it."
"Well it's hardly a surprise that those two are putting their heads together but think about it Jane, the only reason he would consult Lestrade would be if it were something...romantic." Sally suggested, her tone hopeful.
"That was the first thing that was in my head but why would Sherlock consult his brother on the subject of romance. There's three in on it."
"What?" Sally's jaw all but dropped to the table. "There's two of them?"
As if on cue, a similar silhouette of the elder Holmes glided past the window.
"That's him." Jane nodded to the door.
Sally rushed out of her seat and threw the door open, peering out. When he disappeared around the corner, she turned back to Jane.
"Brothers?" She echoed in disbelief. "Really?"
"Yep." Jane nodded solemnly.
"But he's bald!"
This time it was Jane that couldn't stop the raucous laughter that burst from her chest. Eventually, Jane managed to hush her giggling and Sally smiled with the most mischievous glint in her eye.
"I think my lunch break is just about over. Do you want to come back with me?"
"You know what, I think I might just join you." Jane jumped up, and tucked her chair under the table. An evil grin spread across Jane's face as an equally evil thought came to her. "How much do you want to bet that I make a room full of men shit themselves?"
Lestrade sighed for the umpteenth time. He closed his eyes and with his thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of his nose. As the seconds ticked on, he suppressed the urge – no, the impulse to punch the two men in front of him.
For over half an hour he'd received the bollocking of his life from Holmes the younger about his lack of progress on whoever appeared to be stalking Jane. The progress he had made was the name of the man; Parker. The man was a private investigator; he could be hired by anyone at anytime and apparently the person who hired him had contacted him only by text and paid in cash for the photographs and hadn't been in contact since. No name. No address. Nothing. And, to top it all off the number wasn't registered.
Then, Holmes the elder walked in and Lestrade really wanted to scream. The man had strolled into the office and under the glares of the two of them and planted himself in the chair Sherlock had occupied before he began pacing up and down. He proceeded then to smile down at them both and ask about what progress Scotland Yard had made with regards to the origin of the photographs.
Sherlock had snorted and said; "Practically nothing! It is a mystery as to how the police force even functions without even a spec of intelligence!"
"Now, now, Sherlock." Mycroft had reprimanded gently. "You know Scotland Yard simply cannot concentrate all their efforts on one particular case, where they are not even convinced there is a danger. No, they are much too busy catching petty car thieves and small drug dealers."
The back-handed show of support made Lestrade's head hurt and unsurprisingly sparked off another argument between the two brothers.
"Then I suppose you have some useful knowledge to add to this do you, Mycroft?"
"No. But then, I don't suppose your lines of enquiry have lead to much of a breakthrough, have they?"
Lestrade had witnessed many infamous Holmes arguments in the past but the tension between the two was taking it to a whole new level. Then, Jane walked in. Arm in arm with Sally Donovan.
Sally patted her arm gently, "Stay here, a minute, I'll just get you a chair."
Perhaps if Mycroft hadn't have been so startled by her arrival he would've offered her his and perhaps if Lestrade hadn't have been so shocked by the alarm on Sherlock's features he'd have offered his but they didn't.
"Jane…is everything…alright?" Sherlock asked uncertainly, reaching out to Jane.
Sally came back in carrying a chair and plonked it down, smiling condescending at Sherlock. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, Jane."
"Thanks, Sally." Jane slowly lowered herself down; slightly exaggerating the effort it took her to sit.
"No problem." Sally winked and walked out of Lestrade's office, suppressing the urge to laugh. She was particularly excited to see what the doctor had up her sleeve and couldn't wait to see their reactions.
Sherlock stared at Jane; Jane could practically see the cogs whirl away behind his eyes. Eventually, it was Lestrade who decided to speak. "Are you alright, Jane? Do you need to call a medic?"
Jane shook her head. "No, no, I'm alright…" Jane reached out and grabbed Sherlock's hand. She smiled weakly at him. "I just had to be near you…"
Mycroft and Lestrade glanced uneasily at each other and through a silent agreement, they decided it was Mycroft's turn, as the diplomat, to speak.
"Perhaps it would be in Jane's best interest if you were to take her home, Sherlock?"
Jane shook her head. "No, no, I'm fine. Please, don't let me disrupt whatever you were doing. Do carry on." She smiled up at Sherlock, then asked softly, "What were you doing?"
Sherlock coughed, clearing his throat. "It's to do with…a cold case…a few years back. There may be some new evidence."
"Really? Then what are you doing here, Mycroft?"
At the mention of his name, the man visibly started. "There are some possible ties to…organisations under my watch."
"Really? Isn't it a bit public to conduct the investigation in Scotland Yard?"
Each and every man froze in his place, luckily Mycroft spoke first. "There are some things even I cannot control."
"Oh…" Jane feigned a look of shock. "Well that must be worrying. Please don't let my being here distract you from such obviously important work."
Each man looked to each other, with a hint of nervousness in the each eye. Sherlock silently acknowledged that it was apparently his turn to talk.
"Jane, I don't want to –"
"Ah!" Jane gasped with a sharp intake of breath; her hands flew to her stomach.
Sherlock dropped to his knees and grabbed her hand, his face only inches from hers. "What? What is it? Are you alright? Jane?"
Lestrade flew out of his chair and ran into the main block of offices.
"Who's the First Aider? I need a First Aider! Oh bloody hell! Oi! Donovan! Who's the First Aider?"
Mycroft simply turned an alarming shade of white but kept his composure the same as moments ago.
Jane transformed the giggle that threatened to bubble up in her throat into a low growl as she bared her teeth in what she hoped to convey as frustration. Heavy and rushed footsteps made their way back into the room. The first face to come into Jane's peripheral vision was none other than Donovan herself, looking slightly confused if the frown was anything to go by.
Jane took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly before putting her free arm on Sherlock's hand, the knuckles of which had turned an alarming shade of white.
"There's no need to panic. It's alright, it was just a twinge. They are not uncommon, this one just took me by surprise. I'm sorry if I startled everyone." The emphasis on the word made Sally's eyes widen with realisation, then morphed into amusement and finally respect.
Sherlock leaned closer to her, "Are you sure? Do you think we should visit the hospital?"
"I am a Doctor."
"You are also heavily pregnant and I do not wish to take any risks!"
"Honestly, Sherlock. I'm fine. I just want to go home and have a lie down..." She didn't add the final 'with you' but she smiled hopefully at him.
Sherlock sighed heavily and rocked back onto his heels, about to argue but his brother got there before him, speaking up for the first time since Jane had gasped.
"If you'll wait only a few moments, I shall have a car sent here to pick you up." Already he was taking his phone from the inside of his pocket.
"And take us to the hospital." Sherlock added.
Jane shook her head, exasperated at Sherlock's stubbornness. "I am not waiting four and a half hours for some snot-faced baby 'Doctor' to tell me it's just a twinge! Which is all it is!"
Just as Sherlock opened his mouth to retort, Mycroft tapped him lightly on the shoulder with his umbrella.
"If you'll excuse the interruption, I just wanted to say that the car is about five minutes away. By the time you two go downstairs, it should have arrived. Sergeant Donovan and Inspector Lestrade, may I ask a favour of you? Could you please escort Doctor Watson downstairs? I just need to have a quick conversation with Sherlock and I assure you he will be down shortly."
The authority in Mycroft's voice left no room for disagreement. Sally eyed Mycroft warily but didn't argue, Lestrade just looked relived that they'd be leaving earlier than he first thought.
Jane hauled herself up out of the chair with a helping hand from both Sherlock and Sally. Sally wrapped her arm underneath Jane's and they slowly began to walk. Lestrade got up to trail behind the two, casting a curious glance at Mycroft, his eyebrow raised in a question. Mycroft gave him a soft smile and a brief nod to signal it was alright. Almost reluctantly, Lestrade closed the door on the Holmes brothers, half wondering if it was really a good idea to leave them unattended in his office.
Sherlock leant against Lestrade's desk and crossed his arms. "Yes?"
"Clearly you have not told her." Mycroft's tone was almost accusing.
"Of course not." He snorted, disgusted with the obviousness of the question. "She has enough problems to deal with. This will simply frighten her, which is the last thing she needs."
"Stop underestimating her, Sherlock. She is stronger than you give her credit for. She deserves to know if she is in danger."
"In her ignorance, she is blissful and I don't intend to change that! So far we have made almost no progress! It's been over a month! You said, you convinced me that you could…" Sherlock closed his eyes, too frustrated with his conflicting emotions to carry on. He clenched his jaw shut when he thought; 'You made me believe in you, Mycroft.' He almost wanted to hit himself for being so ridiculously sentimental. It was hardly the first time his brother had disappointed himself and they were certainly not sentimental men.
Sensing the internal turmoil of his brother, Mycroft leaned forward and tapped his umbrella on the desk next to Sherlock, bringing him out of his mind .
"We're too close for comfort, which is why you have not received any more of these packages. If he makes a move we'll know."
Sherlock lifted his eyes from the floor and fixed his brother with a cold stare. "He. You know who 'he' is?"
Mycroft leaned back in the chair, looking down at the superbly polished leather of his shoes with a grimace. "I think you know, Sherlock. I think you've known who the only person behind this could be."
And, indeed he did. He couldn't think of the name without a violent loathing bubbling up inside of him. He couldn't say it without that hatred spilling out. That was one emotion he would not conceal.
"Moran."
That Evening
"Sherlock? Sherlock? Are you coming to bed?" Jane strained to hear a reply and when none came she hauled herself up to a sitting position. "Sher-"
Just as she began to call louder, the man himself appeared in the doorway, pyjamas on but with his dressing gown tied tightly around him. He looked deep in thought and Jane wondered if he had even heard her.
She reached out and touched his hand gently, running her thumb along his pale knuckles, slowly waiting for the fog to clear in his eyes and for his consciousness to come back. It was always much better to speak to him softly and to touch him gently.
"Sherlock?"
He looked down at here, fog cleared, attentive and looking slightly worried but remained silent.
"Come to bed?"
He nodded, but he was still too subdued for Jane's liking. He switched off the lights and with expected ease made his way round to his side of the bed in complete darkness. He climbed under the covers without a word and offered to put his arm around her so she could lie on his shoulder.
"No. You come here." She all but forced her arm underneath his neck and pulled his head onto her shoulder. Jane leant over and kissed his temple beginning to run her fingers through his curls.
"What's wrong?" She whispered, knowing full well that he probably wouldn't answer.
For ten minutes or so simply played with his curls until he was ready to speak. When he did, he voice was so hoarse that for a second she didn't recognise it.
"Jane, if I were to tell you that I was indirectly responsible to something that would directly affect us…"
"I'd want you to elaborate."
"I know." The pure disappointment in his voice overwhelmed her so she added;
"And, I know we'd be able to find a way around it. We always do."
Sherlock didn't reply and the room was plunged back into silence. The only sounds were that of their breathing. Sherlock's arm snaked around Jane's stomach, his fingers splayed gently against the bump. Slowly his breathing began to steady and his body relax as he began to drift off.
Then the baby kicked.
The force of the kick not only startled Sherlock into full alert but caused Jane to jerk up, gasping painfully. Sherlock flew to the side and switched the side lamp on. He stared at her with doe-like eyes. She stared back in disbelief.
"It kicked me." Slowly, the disbelief turned into a smile and then turned into laughter. "It kicked me! The little bugger actually kicked me!"
Relief spread across Sherlock's features and he soon joined in and his low baritone laugh echoed around the room. He climbed back onto the bed and placed his hand on her stomach just as the bump kicked again.
"Ow! Stop it you little blighter. Will you tell it to stop?!" Jane grinned at Sherlock.
"This is…"
Another kick.
"…absolutely fascinating." He beamed down at her stomach, his eyes ablaze with wonder.
"Bloody painful more like!" Jane tried to make it sound like a complaint but she simply couldn't. Not when she'd seen the look of pure delight in Sherlock's eyes, that hadn't made an appearance for a long time.
As she revelled in the moment although slightly uncomfortable as it was, she couldn't help but wonder what he had meant and feared it. Anything that could scare Sherlock Holmes couldn't be ignored. But the question was, how was she going to get him to tell her?
A/N: Hello! I am so sorry that I haven't been updating for a while but it's exam/coursework time and for once in my life I've actually not been procrastinating all that much which is...weird.
Anyway, what I wanted to say was that the next chapter is the biggie! It's the birth!So, I encourage you all to vote! vote! vote! Please...
Sherlockedmyheart xxx