This one is extra long because of the unusually long wait! I'm having a few people read it over and give me feedback before I post it, but they haven't responded, so I'm going to post something anyway. This is half of what I had written, so I'm going to have to take a day or so to get back to the right number count to post again! (I try to have 10,000 words written and THEN I post another chapter).

I hope you enjoy this one!

CHAPTER 18 - How Do I Turn Him Off?

"Mycroft may know about these Angels," Tabitha suggested. Sherlock whipped out his phone and made the call, walking to a far corner. As he murmured into the mobile, the three left around the body looked down at it.

"Did Sherlock mention the note?" The woman's heads popped up at the sound of Johns voice. Tabitha shook her head. John rolled his eyes and pulled out a clear evidence bag with a piece of notebook paper on it. He lifted it up so they could see the writing.

"Beware the Weeping Angels. They take your time, leaving you with nothing," Molly read out loud. They all took a deep breath. "It's repeated multiple times, filling the paper," Molly pointed out. John put it back on the table next to the body.

"He really wanted someone to know about these," Tabitha responded.

"Mycroft will be meeting us at our flat. Come, John, Tabitha." With that, Sherlock hurriedly left the room. John mumbled to himself, irritated with Sherlock for doing that all the time. Tabitha gave Molly a quick hug before saying a goodbye and leaving the area. The ride home in the cab was quiet, with Tabitha and Sherlock in the back while John sat across from them. Sherlock took her hand in his, something that was a new development in their relationship.

The first time he had done it was a few weeks back, just after the confetti party. They had been taking a walk to the library, as Tabitha insisted and Sherlock wouldn't let her go alone. He took her hand on the way back, while pretending he didn't even register their touch. She had just smiled.

Now, in the back of the cab, he glanced over at her with a small smile, a simple acknowledgement of their touch. John didn't miss it, but covered his mouth to hide a smile as he looked out the car door.

"How's Mary? I haven't seen her in the last week," Tabitha asked, trying out a new topic of conversation.

"She was at her parents," John answered. "I meet her there tomorrow."

"Meeting the parents. You've never been with a woman long enough to do that," Sherlock said, making it sound like an insult. John gave him a look, and Sherlock sighed. "I meant it in the best way."

"I know," John countered. "Unfortunately, I know."

They all chuckled for the rest of the short ride to the flat.

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Just as Sherlock said, Mycroft was waiting at the flat, looking out the window. He was wearing one of his usual suits, and Tabitha grinned at the cane in his hand. The tenants of the flat took off their coats, hung them on the pegs near the door, and went on with their usual routine after coming home from the morgue. John went to his desk to blog, Sherlock to the kitchen table with experiments, and Tabitha to the kitchen to cut up some apples and oranges to snack on.

"How are you feeling, Tabitha?" Mycroft asked, turning from his place at the window to look at her across two rooms. Although Tabitha was certain she had never told him she was actually pregnant, she knew that he was talking specifically about that. She turned around with a bowl of fruit in her hand and placed a hand on her stomach as she made her way to the couch.

"Great, but I'm sure in the next few weeks I'll feel like crap," she commented with a smile, nibbling on an apple as he leaned back. Mycroft nodded, but she saw a slight smile on his lips. A real smile, not something put in place to show. Sherlock sent a smirk to his brother, then went back to his project.

"You should make a doctor's appointment in the next few days, my dear," he replied, touching some papers that were on the desk next to him. John looked up from his laptop, and reached out to pull the papers toward him. Mycroft just raised an eyebrow and walked over to the couch. He stood next to it as he surveyed the men and woman. "Now, on to important matters. The Weeping Angels."

Everyone's heads slowly turned up to look at the older Holmes brother, silently waiting for him to go on. When he stared back with no words, Sherlock huffed an irritated sigh.

"Yes, the Angels. I assume they are aliens, like the Doctor?"

"You know the Doctor?" asked Tabitha.

"I know of him – I met him a month ago for the first time," Mycroft countered. "This man, well, non-human, I suppose, has been in classified documents for a long, long time."

"Obviously," Sherlock muttered, pouring a bit of chemical into a beaker.

"Angels, Mycroft, what about the Weeping Angels?" John asked.

"The body you look at today – he was taken by the Angels a few days ago back into time."

"Wouldn't time just rewrite and make him the right age? Why didn't they change in the records?"

"It seems Moran wanted you to find the body."

"Why is he after me?" Tabitha asked, touching her stomach.

"Because Sherlock took the one person he loved more than anything." Mycroft picked up his phone and began to text. "Revenge, I suppose."

"I'm better," Sherlock mumbled with an edge to his voice. His hands tightened around the microscope knobs visibly.

"At what?" Tabitha smirked, remembering he actor who played in him her own universe saying the same thing in Star Trek.

"Everything."

Tabitha couldn't hold it in – she cackled with abandonment. The three men stared at her with confusion on their faces. She took a few deep breaths as she tried to calm down, wiping tears away from her eyes.

"What now?" Sherlock probed.

"It's… it's from my… universe!" she replied, having to pause with laughter every now and then.

"Of course it is," he grumbled. His eyes went back to his microscope. John leaned back in his chair, his finger on his chin thoughtfully.

"Are you going to explain?"

"Maybe later. I'm sorry," she apologized. Tabitha blew out a heavy breath and grinned. "I'm done. Now, Moran wants to get to me to fuck with Sherlock – got it. So these Angels, they take you out of this time and put you in the past, feeding on the energy of the traveling."

Sherlock and John snorted at the curse word.

"Yes, I assume so. How did you get that?"

"She's clever, Mycroft. My child's mother can be nothing but intelligent."

"Thank you, Sherlock." Sherlock grunted his answer back.

"The statues the Doctor told you about – these were the Angels?" John asked, now distracted from his blogging. His chair was turned from the desk to face the open room. Tabitha finished nibbling on her apples and oranges and got up to put the dishes in the sink. She'd do them later tonight, after their dinner. She also made a mental note to contact a doctor for an appointment.

She made her way over to Sherlock and leaned against the table next to him, her hip on the edge and her arms crossed over her chest. He glanced out of the corner of her eye at her stomach, which was next to his face. It lingered, and a warm feeling settled into Tabitha's body.

"Yes. He said that they move when no one is looking."

"That's what 'Don't Blink' means." Sherlock mumbled thoughtfully. "Well, that's easy enough. We'll keep you away from statues, and if there is one around, we'll make sure someone has their eye on them so you can get away."

"They can get to you, too, Sherlock," Mycroft said softly. Sherlock ignored him, but Tabitha and John shared a worried look. "Well, that is all I have for you. Good day. Tabitha, appointment, remember." He looked pointedly at her, and then left.

"John, if this liquid turns pink in the next hour or so, text me. Tabitha, we have research to do," Sherlock stated, standing up. He took Tabitha's hand and pulled her from her position against the table. She followed him to the couch, sat down next to him, and watched as he put that laptop on his lap and started typing. Tabitha was surprised when she saw what he was searching.

"You want me to text you even though you're in the same room?"

"Obstetricians in the area?"

"Yes. Mycroft is right – now would be a good time to make an appointment. It's been approximately six weeks, so it would be safe to say that it would be recognizable to a home pregnancy test." She hummed and nodded, then leaned back to watch him search and read through different profiles of doctors. It didn't take long for him to turn the laptop toward her. "It'll be easier to get my attention if you text me, John."

"I'm fine with whoever you like." Tabitha looked at the picture on the screen. A mature man, with brown and silver hair. He was wearing a polo shirt and khakis, smiling into the camera while crouching down next to a little girl around two.

"Doctor Rory Williams. In his 50s, has been working in the medical field for 30 years, been an obstetrician for the last 15 years. I'll make sure to do a thorough background check to make sure he is suitable." Sherlock turned the laptop back toward him and started pounding away at the keys.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you kind of like the idea of having a family," Tabitha murmured with a small smile. She pushed a curl behind his ear softly. He hummed a response and she saw him stiffen a bit at her touch. She sighed, but kept smiling.

"I'm just making sure my child has the best care. My mother did not raise me to do anything less," Sherlock answered. Tabitha looked at John.

"Have you met his mother?"

"The only family I've met is Mycroft."

"Unfortunately." Tabitha poked Sherlock's arm with a chuckle.

"When do I get to meet your mother?"

Sherlock's hands stopped, hovering over the keys. He sat straight and put the laptop on the coffee table. John and Tabitha watched in confusion as he stood up and walk to his bedroom.

"What as that all about?" she asked worriedly.

"The only time I've heard either of the Holmes brothers speak about their mum was when they were fighting," he answered softly. They both looked down the hallway, listening to see if Sherlock would be making some kind of noise. The only thing they heard was silence.

"Maybe you should go check on him…" Tabitha suggested, placing a hand on her stomach thoughtfully.

"Why me?"

"Because you're his best friend. Besides, I have a doctor to call."

John stared at Tabitha for a moment, and then gave in with a grunt as he pushed himself out of his chair. He walked down the hallway and stopped at Sherlock's closed door. He placed an ear to the door, but didn't hear anything troublesome. He knocked, and was surprised when the door opened. Sherlock had shed his suit jacket, but kept his white button up shirt, dress pants, and shoes on. His sleeves were rolled up, and a rubber ball was in his hands.

"So, want to talk about it?"

"No," he answered, but stepped back to let his friend in. John nodded and walked in. Sherlock closed the door behind John and then sat on the floor at the end of the bed. He began to bounce the ball, hitting the wall, and catching it again in his hand. He did this a few more times, and then John caught the ball as it bounced back to Sherlock.

"What's so bad about Tabitha meeting your mother?" John watched Sherlock glare at the wall. "Sherlock, it's important. You never talk about her. Why?"

"She's dead," he grumbled, grabbing the ball back and bouncing it hard against the wall. It landed in his hand with a thwack, and he did it again. "She was worse than Mycroft."

"Mycroft may be a stalker, but he does it for your own good. Are you angry at him because he helped you get clean?" John asked, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. Sherlock continued to glare at the wall, but stopped bouncing the ball. He turned his hard gaze down to the rubber ball in his hand.

"Logically, I shouldn't be angry with them…" Sherlock tapered off, studying the ball in his hand but not really looking at it.

"You've kept some resentment towards them because they made you something you didn't want to do?" That didn't surprise John, but his next words did.

"No. I resent them because they made me do something that I shouldn't have had to do in the first place."

"Oh." John watched his friend, seeing a new emotion in his eyes. Shame. He was ashamed of his drug-addicted past. It made him seem even more human that John knew him to be inside. "Well, it's a good time to put that in the past and move forward."

"I suppose you're right," Sherlock answered with a sigh. They heard a knock and turned to see Tabitha peeking her head in.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes." Sherlock stood up and threw the ball into a basket in the corner of the room. Tabitha raised an eyebrow.

"I made an appointment in three days to see Doctor Williams."

"Good," Sherlock replied.

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Three weeks later, at the beginning of here ninth week of pregnancy, the morning sickness hit. It was the third morning in a row she had woken up to throw up in the bathroom. Tabitha groaned, kneeling in front of the porcelain bowl after flushing it. She heard Sherlock sigh with irritation from the bed, just like he did every morning the past three days. Usually, she would just push it away, knowing it was just how Sherlock was, but this morning she felt a bit differently. She glared at the door, glared at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, and glared at Sherlock as he dozed on the bed as she put on her usual cotton shorts and tank top.

She reached forward after she was finished and yanked the comforter off Sherlock, tossing it to the floor. He sat up with confusion on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"You, you big jerk. I'm heaving up my insides and you make it sound like I'm killing a man!"

"It's morning sickness, not death. Can't you be quieter?"

"Be quieter?" Tabitha repeated, amazed at what she had just heard. Sherlock grunted back and rolled onto his side, in a fetal position. Tabitha growled and jumped on top of him. She rolled him and pinned his hands on either side of his head. "Sherlock Holmes. I am pregnant. With your child. The way you act, you wouldn't care if I decided to get rid of it. What do you want?"

Sherlock stared up at her, surprise coming over his features.

"What do you mean get rid of it? Of course I care. Why do you say that?"

"Because you are the equivalent of a brick wall when it comes to emotions. I'm so tired of giving you all I've got, and getting nothing in return!" Tabitha picked up a pillow from the bed, threw it at Sherlock's face, and stomped to the living room.

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Sherlock stared at the door, quickly running through the last evening and night to see if he had done anything wrong. His comments a few moments ago were admittedly in bad taste, but they weren't harsh enough to make such an assumption that he didn't care. He did care – he cared so much it made him crave more than a cigarette. He growled, annoyed, and got up to search for a nicotine patch. He found two and stuck them to his arm.

After putting his dressing gown over his blue pajama pants and gray shirt, he walked into the living room barefoot. John and Mary were dressed casually in jeans and jumpers looking through the papers in the case file they had picked up the night before. He didn't see Tabitha, but heard her sniffling in the kitchen. He peeked around the corner, saw her sitting at the table with her arms on the table, her forehead touching the wood.

John glanced at Sherlock, than gestured with his head toward Tabitha. Talk to her – of course he'd suggest that. Having a conversation is what started this little tiff. He frowned at John and made his way to his office space.

"Sherlock!" Mary whispered, scowling at him. She pointed to Tabitha's back. "Go!" Sherlock glared back, and the three of them stared at each other, not backing down. Sherlock huffed and turned toward the kitchen. Mary and John shared a look of triumph.

Sherlock approached Tabitha, and heard another sniff. He heard the small sounds of crying coming from her, and felt his chest constrict. Contrary to her beliefs, he did feel everything when it came to her. He stared at her back for a moment, glancing back to his friends. They gestured reassuringly to go ahead. He softly reached out and touched her shoulder. Her body stiffened under his touch, and she slowly raised her head. He pulled his hand back.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Sherlock," she apologized softly. He almost thanked her, out of habit, but caught himself. He'd been reading up on what to expect when pregnant – it must be her hormones working overtime. He would have to watch what he said, now.

"No, don't apologize." He took a seat next to her. She looked at him, her gray eyes bright with tears, and her cheeks stained red. She sniffed, and he took her hands in his, turning their bodies in the chairs so they faced one another. He studied her for a moment, thinking about how pretty she was, with her strawberry blonde hair flowing over her shoulders, a bit messy from sleep. "I'm trying, I swear. I'm sorry I'm not learning as quickly as I should." He felt John and Mary join her stare at him. He cleared his throat, and had to force himself to keep their hands together. "Remember when you insisted to John that I could love, as a partner in marriage, in life?"

Tabitha nodded. He had to swallow to get up the courage to say the next words. It was humiliating to confess such archaic feelings, but he knew it was needed right now.

"I'm beginning to believe it, as well."

"Thank you," Tabitha whispered, new tears forming in her eyes. They started to fall freely as she wrapped her arms around Sherlock's neck. He panicked at the fact that she was crying.

"I didn't mean to make you cry!" he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Shut up, its tears of joy, you dimwit," Tabitha laughed, pulling back and kissing him. He closed his eyes as he breathed in her vanilla smell, moving his lips softly against hers. Tentatively, he touched his tongue to hers, then pulled back abruptly. Their breathing had increased a bit.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop."

"For now," Tabitha agreed, pulling away fully. They untangled their arms from each other. John and Mary were busy sorting and looking at the papers, although it was a bit exaggerated, if you asked Tabitha. "We will go out tonight. As a date. Officially."

"That… that's what we should do. It's… it's expected of a couple to go out on dates," Sherlock agreed, trying his best to hide the giddy feeling coming into his mind. Dating wasn't new to him, from a few experiences in college and living with John, but he admitted to himself he had no idea what to do. He'd converse with John about it.

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Later that day, Tabitha placed a call to Dr. Williams, asking if there was anything she could safely to do make the morning sickness less frequent. She liked the man – he was lively, loved children, and couldn't stop talking about his wife and daughter, Amy and Melody. Although when he mentioned Melody, it seemed like he was trying his hardest not to spill some important secret. Not that it was any of her business, of course.

The boys were out for the afternoon, so she lounged on the couch with her feet propped up. In the past few weeks, she had taken more naps then she had ever done before. She picked up her phone to fire out a few texts.

Sherlock update: We are going on a date tonight. Christmas is in three weeks. Are you coming to the party? – to Mycroft

I'll be working. – MH

If you both are able, tomorrow we should go on a baby spree – I need to make a list of stuff I need – to Molly and Mary

I can work it into the morning! – Mx

Tomorrow morning is free! – MM

How is the morning sickness, love? – The Woman

Kills me every morning. Are my stalkers getting closer? – TH

I haven't heard anything – The Woman

Would you tell me? – TH

Yes – The Woman

Where are we going? – to Sherlock

What? – SH

On our date – TH

I'm working on it – SH

Tabitha looked out the window – the sun was out, making it look like a perfect day, but she knew that it was freezing out. She thought about the different places Sherlock may take her – a normal date was out of the question. She'd mentioned to John how she liked to go somewhere other than a dinner and a movie. Hopefully he passed it onto Sherlock – she counted on it.

Starting to feel restless, she placed a phone call to Mary.

"I was just going to call you!" her friend exclaimed as soon as she picked up.

"Oh, what for?"

"John and I have been dating for over two months…"

"Yes?" Tabitha wasn't sure where this was going.

"Is it too soon to be hopelessly, absolutely in love with the man?"

Tabitha laughed.

"Of course not! Do you realize who you're talking to? I was in love with Sherlock before I even met him in person!"

"That is very true. And since you've told me about us getting married in the future, I can't stop thinking about a family with him."

"Have you talked to John about this?"

"Oh, god, no, he'll think I'm moving too fast, and I'll scare him off!"

"I doubt it. Talk to him."

"You think so?"

"Oh, yeah," Tabitha answered with a smile. She picked at some lint that was on the couch arm next to her.

"Fine! I'll talk to him. What did you want?"

"Oh! I was just bored. The boys are gone, and Mrs. Hudson is rarely around since she began dating the baker. Molly is always working, too."

"You could always bother Lestrade or Mycroft. I think the Mycroft actually likes you. I can't believe the boys left you alone!"

"They know Mycroft is watching," Tabitha answered, eyeing the small camera attached to the ceiling fan. She gave a little wave, and her phone beeped. "I gotta go. I'll chat with you later. Tell me all about the conversation after you have it with John!" Mary laughed as Tabitha hung up. She placed a hand over her stomach as she looked at her screen.

Where are Sherlock and John? – MH

Off on a case – TH

He should have left someone with you – MH

I suppose I could call Lestrade – TH

Don't worry – I'll get someone over there – MH

Tabitha sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing.

Your brother is upset that you left me alone – to Sherlock

It took a moment for her to get a text back.

Sherlock is yelling at me for not staying with you – JW

But he asked you to go with him! – TH

I know. How do I turn him off? – JW

Tabitha laughed as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She tensed up, watching the door suspiciously, waiting for someone to enter. A knock sounded, and some of her anxiety floated away. She stood up and opened the door, finding the Doctor standing there. Grinning, she let out an excited cry and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, then took her shoulders in his hands and pushed her back.

"Oh, look at you! All glowy and pregnant! Why aren't you showing? You are still pregnant, right?" He pulled at the ends of her long hair and flicked it off her shoulder.

"Of course! I'm only 9 weeks – I won't start showing for another month or two," Tabitha laughed, pulling him in and closing the door. She leaned back against the door as the Doctor explored the room for anything new. He was dressed in the same white shirt, braces, trousers, and tweed jacket. His bowtie was black at the moment. "Where have you been? Did Mycroft call you?"

"Yes. It's been six weeks since I left, yeah?" the Doctor muttered, his attention skirting around the room. He found the skull, still in its place, and picked it up, looking under it. He hummed as he pulled out a piece of paper.

"Yeah. What's that?" Tabitha asked, walking up to him. She peeked over his shoulder as he unfolded the white paper to show writing.

"A note from Moran."

"What!" Tabitha exclaimed, her stomach started to flip with paranoia. She looked frightfully around the room with a hand on her stomach. "When was he here?"

"No idea," the Doctor muttered.

They read the note silently.

The Angels are coming for you. Their attack is worse than death. You'll have to live with never seeing your lovely bride-to-be again, knowing she's in the past somewhere, where you can never have her.

It was signed with a flourished Sebastian Moran at the bottom.

"Obviously meant for Sherlock," the Doctor stated, holding it up to the light and squinted at it. Tabitha gulped and sat walked over to the couch to sit down. She sent a quick text to Sherlock saying that Moran left a note under the skull. Tabitha knew Sherlock, or John at least, would be running back here. She felt sick, anxiety creeping into her body. She began to take deep, shallow breathes, and she struggled to calm down. The Doctor sensed her panic, and quickly put the letter back where it was and sat next to her.

"I'm not panicking," Tabitha said, but they both knew it wasn't true. The Doctor put a hand on her back.

"Of course you aren't. Let's breathe together. In. Out. In. Out…" the Doctor and Tabitha did that for a few moments. Tabitha was back to normal when Sherlock burst into the room, followed by a worried party. Mrs. Hudson, Mary, Molly, and Lestrade where peeking around from Sherlock's body.

"Tabitha." Sherlock's voice made everyone step back to give him room to get to her. He crouched down in front of her, taking her hands, holding and resting them on her lap. "Did you see him?"

"No," she said, taking another breathe. I never saw him come and go. The Doctor found his note under the skull." She gestured with her head over to the Doctor, who was watching with the rest of the group.

"Why don't I make some tea? Girls, come into the kitchen, let the boys do their job," Mrs. Hudson said. Mary, Molly, and Tabitha followed her into the kitchen. The gathered around the counter as the Doctor, John, Sherlock, and Lestrade huddled near the skull on the mantel.

Tabitha felt suddenly weak in the knees.

"I think I need to sit down," she said as she began to feel light-headed. Molly and Mary pulled up a chair and sat her in it. Mrs. Hudson went to work putting the kettle on the stovetop.

"Are you okay?"

"Do you need something to eat?"

"Do you need to rest?"

The three women stared down at Tabitha, concern on their face. She blinked, trying to keep from fainting. She breathed through her nose, eyes closed. She opened them when she felt a bit better.

"I think I'm okay. Yes, maybe some crackers. Probably need to rest, but I don't want to miss anything," she replied, answering all the questions the women had thrown at her. Molly checked around for the crackers, squeaking a bit when she opened a cabinet to see a pile of who-knows-what next to a can of beans. "I have no idea what that is – I told Sherlock he can deal with it," Tabitha confessed, wrinkling her nose.

"Well, there is no smell…" Molly murmured as she grabbed a box of crackers. She handed it over to Tabitha. The women turned to look at the men as the water boiled.

"Moran. You have to have something on Sebastian Moran! This is clearly a threat!" John shouted, looking angrily at Lestrade. The detective looked back at him helplessly.

"I promise to see what I can find, but so far there is nothing linking him to any criminal activity. The best I can do is have a chat with him!" Lestrade held up his hands, defeated. John huffed and stomped to his desk. He put his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table. Mary immediately made her way to her boyfriend and put her hands on his shoulders to comfort him. Mrs. Hudson turned as the kettle shrieked, and Molly stood next to Tabitha with a hand on her mouth worriedly.

"Obviously, I'll be doing that," Sherlock interjected, straightening the coat that he hadn't taken off yet. He put on his gloves and straightened his scarf around his neck. Tabitha frowned and stood up, setting the box of crackers on the table. She walked to him and touched his arm. He glanced down at her as his hand gripped the door knob.

"I don't think that's a good idea. He wants you, you can't just show up at his doorstep," she told him, frustrated. He rolled his eyes.

"Of course I can."

"No, you can't, not when I'm pregnant. We can't take the risk of something happening to you!"

Everyone was silent as they watched Sherlock's face turn from boredom to confusion.

"Why am I so important? You are the one that is pregnant."

"I refuse to be without you." Tabitha stared up into his eyes, determination all over her face. Sherlock stared back, a bit surprised at the statement. That warm feeling that came when he was around Tabitha appeared again in his chest. He felt his eyes misting, and blinked them away as quickly as he could. He prayed that no one saw it.

"I suppose it is best for the child if I let Detective Inspector Lestrade handle it. John, you'll join him," he demanded, pulling off his gloves. No one said anything about the quick emotional exchange between the couple. John and Lestrade agreed and huddled at the desk to discuss a time. Molly, Mary, and Mrs. Hudson exchanged knowing smiles as they finished up making the tea. The Doctor leaned against the window, glancing outside every now and then.

Sherlock took of his cost and scarf, leaving only his trousers, shoes, and blue button up shirt on. He took a seat on the couch and began to type on the laptop. Tabitha saw that he was going through his blog. She took a seat next to him, watching him type. Mrs. Hudson brought a tray with mugs sitting on it, and sat it on the coffee table.

"Here is some tea," she pointed out with a smile.

"Oh, thank you, but I need to get back to the office. I'll check the paper for fingerprints, and get back to you, John." They all murmured a good-bye as the detective left. Molly's phone went off and she looked at it. She read the text with a smile.

"I … I have to take this. I'll talk you later, yeah? Tomorrow, baby shopping!" She went out the door with a wave. Mrs. Hudson followed her. John raised an eyebrow at Mary.

"Do you think it's safe for you to go out shopping?"

"There will be three of us – we'll watch each other's backs," she answered with a glare over her mug as she sipped her tea. John raised his arms to give in. Mary winked at Tabitha, and Tabitha smiled back, sipping her own tea out of the mug.

"I'll volunteer to go with the girls, if you want me to," the Doctor interrupted. The four of them stared at him. He frowned. "What? I can protect them."

"With your magic screwdriver?" Sherlock mumbled.

"Sonic screwdriver, and yes!"

"I don't see why not," Mary commented.

"Good. I'll be around tomorrow morning to get the day started!" The Doctor whirled around, making sure to touch everyone on the arm or shoulder as he said goodbye. Mary, John, and Tabitha murmured a goodbye as he left.

Tabitha put down her mug and picked another up. She turned to Sherlock and touched the mug to his arm. He waved it away, his eyes still locked on the laptop. He was researching Moran, and was looking frustrated with the results.

"Drink some tea, Sherlock," Tabitha said. He glanced at her, then took the mug with a sigh. He murmured to himself as he sipped the tea and sat it down beside the other mugs. Mary took a mug to John, and kissed him.

"Have you figured out where you are going for your date?" John asked, glancing up at Mary standing beside him with a smirk. Tabitha turned to look at Sherlock. It took a moment for Sherlock to look over at the people staring at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You know what," John chuckled.

"I have a plan, don't worry," Sherlock said, smirking at Tabitha.

"Oh? What is that?"

"Be ready by six. Walking shoes, please." He stood up and made his way to his bedroom. Tabitha watched him, amused and curious.