Quick sexy time! Sex included in this chapter. Mycroft and the Doctor meet. OH SNAP.

CHAPTER 14 - How Can I Help You, Mate?

The girls looked around the corner at John staring open mouthed at a very confused Sherlock. The man sent the girl's a hopeless look while John sputtered. The kettle shrieked, and Mary went to work getting the tea made. Tabitha stepped into the living room sheepishly.

"You told him about your marriage idea, didn't you?" she asked a bit sarcastically.

"Yes. I thought that is what would be expected of me, telling my best friend I plan to marry," Sherlock said.

"You've known each other for two weeks!" John finally said, able to make out words. "Look, I get her story, really, but you hardly know each other. Sherlock, I just can't imagine you being in love!"

"Who said anything about love? She is pregnant with my child. It would benefit both of us, and the child, if we were married."

Tabitha's heart dropped at those words. Of course he didn't love her – he was Sherlock Holmes. She cleared her throat just as Mary brought in a tray with four mugs of tea on them. She handed them to each person, and Sherlock sipped his as he moved to take a place at his desk. John and Mary sat next to each other on the couch and Tabitha took another chair. John seemed to know what was going on in her mind.

"Tabitha, he doesn't love," John said, lowering his voice so only him and the two woman could hear. They all glanced at Sherlock, who concentrated on his laptop screen, and knew it wouldn't have mattered.

"He does," she answered with assurance. "He faked his own death to save his best friends. He loves you three."

"Not the kind of love one would have for a partner to marry." John took a sip of his tea, and Mary placed a hand on his elbow as she looked sadly at him before turning to Tabitha.

"I think you're wrong. It may take a brick to the head multiple times, but he can be in love. I know it," she insisted softly. John sighed thoughtfully, looking at her with concern.

"I don't want you getting hurt. What if you go back to… your own universe? You have a job, a house, a paycheck. It's all there, waiting for you."

"Tabitha isn't going back. That's final," Sherlock suddenly interrupted, pushing himself up violently and reaching for his coat. Tabitha sent John a raised eyebrow, and John seemed a bit surprised at his comment. "Come, John, Lestrade has a case for us." He grabbed his scarf and headed out the door. Mary smiled and nodded to her boyfriend.

"Us girls will keep one another company!" she said, waving her hand for him to go.

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"Is she right, Sherlock? Do you love her?" John asked, keeping his eyes looking out the window of the cab. Sherlock scoffed, and let out a chuckle.

"John, you know me better than anyone. I am not capable of love." His smirk was wavering on his face, though. He slipped through some thoughts in his mind. "I do care for her, though. She is... nice company. And although I think children are messy and annoying, I know my responsibilities as a parent."

"I don't think you understand the emotional side of parenting," John chuckled. Sherlock waved that thought off with his hand and a grunt. "Maybe you should tell her you care about her, at least."

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The Doctor was pacing in the console room when the TARDIS started flashing red lights throughout itself. He looked around confused, and then poked his head out the door. The wind ruffled his brown hair, and he frowned at the two big men in suits that were staring back at him. He stepped out, careful to keep them from seeing inside the box.

"How can I help you, mate?" he asked with a grin.

"We need you to follow us." They each took an elbow and pulled-slash-carried the Doctor toward a waiting limo at the entrance of the park.

"You could have just asked me," he grumbled as he was tossed inside the long car. He dusted off his shirt and straightened his bowtie, finding himself eye-to-eye with Mycroft Holmes.

"Oh! Mycroft Holmes! Practically the government, yeah? What can I do for you?" the Doctor put on his friendliest smile, but Mycroft just started at him with a frown.

"You are the Doctor, no?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow and looked at him knowingly.

"In the flesh!" he answered with a flourish of his hands. The car begun to move, the light fading as the sunset. The Doctor ignored the places they passed – Mycroft Holmes would take him back to the TARDIS when they were finished with their conversation.

"I know what you are. I need your help."

"Lovely! Are their aliens on the loose? Trying to blow up London, or take over the world?" the Doctor asked excitedly.

"Not exactly. We think that the people after Tabitha Hunter are time jumpers."

"Time jumpers?" The Doctor went through the list of beings he'd come in contact with, and he couldn't place that particular name.

"Or, you would know them as The Weeping Angels." The Doctor went silent for a moment, a flashback of his time with Rory, Amy, and River. His voice turned dark.

"How could statues be after Tabitha? They don't really target their victims. Usually."

"We think Sebastian Moran, Moriarty's right-hand man, has somehow been using them to take care of people he needs to get rid of."

"Weeping Angels are not easy to control, Mycroft Holmes," the Doctor commented in a lowered voice, leaning forward. Mycroft stayed in his seat, but his eyes turned more focused on the Doctor.

"It's not important how, at the moment. What is important that the mother of my niece or nephew be kept safe," he acknowledged. The Doctor took a deep breath and leaned back.

"Yes," he agreed. He stared out the window, not really seeing the view. "Have there been confirmed cases of Weeping Angel attacks in the area?"

To anyone else, it may seem a very odd question, but the Doctor figured that Mycroft knew an exact answer to the question. He turned to Mycroft just as the man answered.

"No, not this area. In Scotland. They seem to be moving south."

"Seems they are on their way for something," the Doctor murmured.

"How do we kill them?"

"These creatures are not killed, Mrs. Holmes. They are outsmarted," the Doctor answered cryptically. Mycroft narrowed his eyes and used his umbrella to tap on the window behind him into the driver's seat.

"My mistake, Doctor. How do we outsmart them?" he replied with a sarcastic sneer.

"I'll let you know when I get more data," the Doctor quipped, grinning at the fact that he sounded just like Sherlock. Mycroft rolled his eyes as the car pulled to a stop back at the park.

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Mary and Tabitha enjoyed an evening of Disney movie and hot chocolate, with a moment to eat simple spaghetti that Tabitha prepared. The women finally looked at the clock, and looked at each other with a sigh when they realized it was past midnight.

"We should head to bed," Tabitha answered with a yawn and a stretch. Mary rubbed her eyes sleepily and nodded as she yawned loudly. They both stood up and put their mugs in the sink. "You can take John's room if you don't want to drive home."

"Good idea – it's not safe to be on the streets when I'm about to pass out," she chuckled an answer. They said a quick good night and Mary made her way to John's room. Tabitha did the small amount of dishes in the sink, and then made her way to Sherlock's bed room. Just after she changed into one of Sherlock's pajama pants and t-shirts, she heard the door open and shushing sounds in the living room. John was telling Sherlock to keep quiet, and Sherlock seemed to make a point out of stomping down the hall just to irritate the smaller man. Tabitha turned with a grin and her hands over her chest as the door was pushed open.

"You're wearing my clothes," Sherlock stated, staring at her. He was frozen in the door way.

"I'm pregnant with your child, too," Tabitha quipped. She kept a smile on her face as she stepped around the man and closed the door soundly. Sherlock eyed her cautiously. "Sherlock, you were right. Marriage. I know, you will never return my feelings, but you care about me, and you want to keep me, and our child, safe."

"I… do care about you," Sherlock replied, shifting nervously around the room. Tabitha slid into the bed as Sherlock pulled out his own pair of pajamas. Watching him pull his shirt off made Tabitha's breath catch – he was beautiful in the moonlight peeping through the window.

"Good. Let me take care of you," she flirted, throwing the covers back and popping up off the bed. Sherlock turned, the only thing on his body a pair of tight boxer shorts, and looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Tabitha chuckled and stepped to him. She put her hands on his chest, and slid them up to stop on his shoulders.

"Tabitha, I –"

"We can still have sex, right?" She asked with raised eyebrows. The blue in his eyes turned dark and cloudy as his hands went to her waist. He pulled her roughly against him.

"Certainly," he growled, then bent down to capture her lips with his. Their tongues dueled passionately, Tabitha's hands in his hair and his hands gripping her waist. They ran up her body to hold her breasts in his hands as she rubbed him against his pants. He pulled at her shirt, flinging it across the room, and pushed down her pants quickly. She grabbed his shoulders, and held tightly as he picked her up, their lips still locked, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

They fell into bed, him on top, her still wrapped around him. She groaned as his lips left a trail down her cheek, jaw, and to her neck. He nipped and licked the perfect spot, and she rubbed her wetness against him.

"No waiting," she gasped, pulling his head up by his curls to take his mouth against hers again. With a moan he slid inside her and started thrusting. Tabitha gasped as he thrust hard, the sound of their bodies coming together filling the room. She whimpered and moaned, he grunted and whispered rough words in her ears, and his hands flicked against her nipples as he pounded into her. Her finger nails ran down his back and he arched against her body.

"Why do you do this to me?" Sherlock growled against her lips as she quaked against him, pulling him tightly into her for the last time. He bite her shoulder hard as he came inside her. She shuddered and trembled in his arms as they came down from their high.

"That was rather fast," Tabitha murmured. Sherlock gasped for breath as he pushed himself onto his hands above her.

"It seems to be that way all the time with us," he replied, rolling off to his back. Instead of getting up, though, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Tabitha to his chest. She rested her head on his chest, his heartbeat loud in her ears, and let an arm rest over his stomach. Not wanting to ruin the moment, she kept silent as he absentmindedly stroked her hip with his thumb.

"Good night," Tabitha whispered into the darkness.

A hum was all she heard in reply.

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When Tabitha woke up, she was alone in the bed. Not surprised at all, she took a quick shower and pulled on a new white skirt and purple button-up shirt. She had people to see, things to do, today! Sliding on some black ballet flats, she walked into the living room whistling. She heard a snicker as she rounded into the kitchen to get a quick breakfast.

"It's still odd to know that the virginal Sherlock Holmes is not innocent at all," Mary quipped from her spot on the couch. She was wrapped up in one of John's dressing gowns, sipping at a mug. Tabitha turned and raised her eyebrow.

"Look who's talking, all naked under that robe," she replied with a chuckle. Mary blushed and tightened the green robe around her body. Tabitha made herself some quick toast, with butter and jam on top. Settling on the couch next to Mary, she took a bite as her friend sat her mug down.

"Plans today?" Mary asked.

"Yep. Lestrade this morning, Mrs. Hudson for lunch, and Ir- a new friend for dinner," she said, quickly fixing her mix-up. No one knew that she had talked to Irene Adler, although Sherlock was clever enough to deduce it as soon as she had gotten home.

"Ah. Well, can I ask you something?" Mary looked a bit bashful as she bit her lip.

"Of course!" Tabitha smiled back reassuringly.

"In your… universe, am I mentioned? With… John?" she asked slowly. Her brow creased, and Tabitha took a moment to think it over.

"Well, you know that this is a television show in my universe, right?" Mary nodded. "Well, season three – that's after Sherlock fake's his death – isn't technically out, yet. Well, I guess I'm in it, but…anyway!" Tabitha shook her head to get back on track. "You are mentioned for the next season, and… I don't know if I should tell you what happens…"

"Is it bad?" Mary asked, suddenly worried.

"No! No, not that I know of! I just don't' want to jinx anything!" Mary pleaded silently with her eyes. "Oh, alright! You and John get married."

Mary's mouth dropped open, and Tabitha felt a bit anxious about the fact she had just spilled. Would this mess up what was supposed to happen, mess up John and Mary's fate?

"Oh, god, I hope you didn't jinx it!" Mary cried with a laugh.

"Agreed!" Tabitha laughed, running a hand through her long hair. She stood up and put her plate in the kitchen. "Well, I'm off to speak with Lestrade."

"Does he know? About you?"

"Just that I have no past, no present, and that we are going to talk about a permanent future here," Tabitha answered as she grabbed a black jacket and stuck her wallet and phone in the pocket. Mary gave a finger wave as she left.

As she rode a cab to Scotland Yard, Tabitha sent off some quick texts to Mrs. Hudson and Irene to make sure their plans were still happening. After both had confirmed, she paid the cabbie and made her way into the offices. As Tabitha weaved her way through the desks and such, she heard whispers following her. She walked by a suited man by the water jug.

"Holmes's girlfriend. Must be an odd one, too."

Tabitha stopped and turned quickly to the man, making sure to put a stern look on her face. The man blinked in surprise and dropped his empty paper cup on the floor. She stepped to him, and poked him in the chest before speaking.

"Who knew the brightest man, and the best lover, would get a woman before you?" She gave him a final poke and turned her heel, lifting her chin proudly and eyeing everyone as she passed them. They stared in surprise, most likely by the comment about Sherlock being the best lover, and she grinned at them. When she made it to Lestrade's office, he was leaning against his door frame with an amused look on his face.

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