CHAPTER 10:A GUILTY GIFT AND A SWEET SURPRISE
Sherlock was in trouble.
He just wasn't sure why.
He had moved in with Kristy a few days after his first day as an NYPD detective and hers as a forensic analysist. Her apartment was walking distance from the precinct, and he found he enjoyed waking up to her. All had been going smoothly until this afternoon.
Kristy had been giving him oddly hopeful looks all morning, but by noon was ignoring him. The one time he had tried to ask what was wrong, she had brushed him away with an airy "I'm fine, Sherlock." in a tone that spelled slow, painful death if he didn't figure it out, and fast.
It was only by chance he figured it out.
His partner, Sarah Murray, was a senior detective who was a few years older than Sherlock. She was a tall, friendly woman with brown hair, hazel eyes, and a rather unhealthy obsession with horses. She saw Sherlock's confusion after Kristy's brush-off and let out a hearty laugh.
"Trouble in paradise, Holmes?"
Sherlock shrugged helplessly.
Sarah clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Well, whatever it is, at least you didn't forget her birthday, right? Maybe she's just pissed because her parents didn't…" She noticed the look on Sherlock's face and blinked, eyes going wide.
"Oh. My. God. You forgot her birthday, didn't you?"
She immediately spun and went to her desk, where she grabbed a card and handed it to him.
"My cousin owns this place. Go and tell her what happened, she'll be able to help."
Sherlock glanced at the card. Embossed in golden, old- fashioned cursive was the name Molly A. Stone. Jeweler. Stone's Finest Jewelry for All Occasions.
...
Molly was a tiny woman a few years older than Sarah, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a wide, infectious smile to go with her pink shirt and white skirt. She strolled forward in white high-heeled sandals to shake Sherlock's hand.
"Hi! I'm Molly. Can I help you, sir? Looking for something special?"
Sherlock mumbled something unintelligible under his breath.
"Sorry, didn't catch that."
"I'm looking for something for my girlfriend."
"Aw! Birthday present?"
A sharp nod.
"Well, what kind of thing does she like? Southwestern? Beads? Rubies? Diamonds? Do you know if she prefers silver over gold? Chain over nylon? Small charm or bigger?"
Sherlock blinked under the onslaught of questions. He couldn't recall ever seeing Kristy wear jewelry.
Molly had her head tilted, watching him. Then understanding lit her eyes.
" Ah. Forgot the birthday, didn't you? Well, sir, I have just the thing."
She disappeared into another room of the shop, emerging with a small, dark blue velvet box. She opened it.
A thin gold chain was barely visible against grey lining. The charm was small, a key with a heart-shaped top. It was simple and understated. Perfect.
"I'll take it."
…
When they got home that night, Sherlock handed Kristy the box with an awkward "Happy birthday."
She blinked up at him, all irritation with him fading. "You remembered?"
Sherlock nodded. "Just… waiting for the right time."
She looked at him for a second before smiling.
"Then why on earth did you let me act like such a bitch, you dork?"
Sherlock shrugged, laughing, as she took the box from him and opened it.
Her hand went to her mouth.
"Oh… Sherlock, it's beautiful. Thank you!"
She reached up and kissed him, then smiled at him and pulled the necklace from the box.
"Put it on for me?"
He did.
…
The next day, when Kristy walked into the precinct wearing the necklace and a huge smile, Sarah shot him a discreet grin and a thumbs up.
Sherlock let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face.
No leads.
None.
No one had seen Patty Ellis near the time of death. No one had any idea what she had been so scared of. No one had seen her with anyone unusual. And he could not find the man with dark hair and a limp.
It had been a little over a month now. He was exhausted. He had barely seen Violet in that time. She never seemed to mind, and Mrs. Hudson adored being her primary babysitter, but he still felt kind of bad.
She was his daughter. But to him, work came first.
Especially since this case reminded him a lot of…
He slammed on the mental brakes. Not going there, Holmes.
He stumbled wearily towards Mrs. Hudson's apartment, opened the door, and was assaulted with a heavenly smell.
Violet bounced around the corner, flour covering her from head to toe and beaming. Was that a streak of cookie dough on her cheek?
"Hi, Daddy!" she said happily. "Me and Mrs. Hudson made cookies!"
"Mrs. Hudson and I." he corrected automatically.
"Come on!" Violet giggled, grabbing his arm. "Come see!"
Sherlock was dragged into the kitchen, where Violet snagged a chocolate chip cookie off of a cooling tray and held it up excitedly.
"See!"
He nodded, still tired, and took her hand.
"Let's go back upstairs, Violet."
She nodded and took a few more cookies before hugging Mrs. Hudson goodbye and following him up the stairs.
As soon as Violet was secured in her room, Sherlock collapsed in his own bed.
When he woke up the next morning, he found a plate of cookies beside his bed.
He blinked suspiciously at the plate of cookies on the coffee table.
"You never bake. Anything. Ever."
"I was inspired!"
Sherlock raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, who was fidgeting almost nervously.
"Are you… okay? Feeling any better?"
She had been throwing up that morning and hadn't felt well for a few days. When he had left that morning, she had been pale and drawn.
She certainly looked much better. Her cheeks were pink, and she seemed to be constantly fighting a huge smile. She kept fidgeting with her hands, shifting her weight.
He could feel the box in his pocket burning against his hip. The smell of baking cookies had temporarily driven it from his mind.
"I'm feeling so much better." Kristy assured him. She settled onto the couch and grinned up at him.
"Come on. Sit down. Have a cookie."
He looked around the kitchen.
"I don't see any wine… are you tipsy?"
"No! I swear!" She patted the couch beside her. "Sit."
Sherlock warily sat down, picked up a cookie, and nibbled on the edge. His eyes widened.
"These are delicious!" He eyeballed her. "You made these?"
Kristy was a notoriously bad cook. She kicked him in the thigh, though she was still grinning.
"Shut up and eat your cookie, dork."
They sat for a while, eating cookies in the companionable silence that happens in a long relationship. When he was done, Sherlock decided it was now or never.
"Can I ask you something?"
"I need to tell you something." Kristy blurted, at the same time.
The looked at each other for a second before Kristy hooked her hair behind her ears, grinning.
"You go first."
Sherlock took a deep breath and pulled the box from his pocket.
Kristy's eyes widened and her hand went to her mouth. "Oh my God…"
"Kristen Webb, will you marry me?"
His heart was pounding.
Kristy nodded several times, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes!" She leaned forward and threw her arms around him.
They sat like that for a while, just hugging each other on the couch, before she pulled away and wiped at her eyes. She took the box from him and slipped the ring on.
"God, I love you, you absolute dork." she muttered, beaming at him and hugging him again.
Sherlock turned his head and pressed his nose into her hair. He kissed the top of her head.
"And I love you." he murmured.
She twisted so her back was against his chest, his arms still around her. They lay like that for a little while before Sherlock suddenly remembered something.
"Didn't you want to tell me something?"
"Oh! Yes!"
Kristy jumped up like a firecracker and raced for the bathroom. A moment later she came back, something held behind her, grinning at him.
She held out a plastic bag containing a small white stick. He took it and studied it.
In a tiny digital window near the tip, a small pink plus sign smiled up at him.
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, followed by a sledgehammer.
He looked up at Kristy, wide-eyed. "Your pregnant."
She grinned, nodding.
And then the world went black.
...
"He did not pass out." Sabrina laughed over the phone. "Holmes, you did not pass out."
"And no one will let me forget it." he muttered. Kristy shot him a grin.
"All right, Sabrina, stop teasing my fiance. How's the band coming?"
"I've given up the band. I've got an internship at this magazine in London! I've decided to be a photographer."
"Sab, that's awesome! Seriously, I'm so proud of you!"
"Thanks, Kristy. Sooooo, about the wedding… please tell me I'm your maid of honor!"
Other reactions to the wedding and the baby were far less favorable. Mycroft had only met Kristy once, and he showed cool approval, but Kristy's parents were another story.
Naomi called to rant about how Kristy would regret this for the rest of her life and what a terrible person she was for getting pregnant before marriage. She demanded Kristy abort immediately and made loud claims how she would never claim the baby as a grandchild. Kristy hung up right around that time before Sherlock gave in to the urge to throttle his future mother-in-law.
God, was that a scary thought.
James went for a slightly more subtle approach. He waited for Sherlock outside the police station and confronted him.
"Wait a moment, Holmes."
Kristy had stopped, eyes wide. "Dad, what are you doing here?"
"Hush, Kristen. The men are talking."
Kristy crossed her arms and didn't move.
"Now, Holmes, name your price."
Sherlock blinked. "What?"
"Your price for leaving Kristen. What is it? Now, Kristen, no need to look so despondent, I've another young man lined up for you."
Kristy stepped toward her father, fists clenched. Sherlock held out his arm to stop her.
"I have no price. I'm not leaving Kristy."
"Come now, Holmes, every man has a price." James pulled out a wallet and tantalizing removed a huge roll of bills. "A marriage between you and my daughter simply cannot work." He nodded to Kristy. "Don't worry, dear, I can pay for a good clinic. You won't feel a thing."
"I'm not getting an abortion!" Kristy snapped.
Sherlock wrapped his arm around Kristy's shoulders and turned to guide her into the station, spitting over his shoulder "Leave the premises and never speak to me or Kristy again."
"Take your money and abortion and shove it up your…" Kristy called, but Sherlock ushered her into the station before she could finish the sentence.
Despite these problems, they were quite possibly the best few months of Sherlock's life.
Becoming a father was never really something he thought about. He wasn't a sentimental man. But yet, here he was, with a fiancee and a baby on the way. He had never felt happier. Never felt more… complete.
Kristy was three months along when they married. They couldn't afford a huge wedding, so it was a simple, small affair at a nearby courthouse. Kristy wore a simple white sundress and her gold key necklace. Sabrina, her dark purple hair braided over one shoulder, kept shooting her sister loving looks. She took a picture when the ceremony was over, on the steps of the courthouse, Kristy beaming into the camera, one hand pulling an amused Sherlock's arm over her shoulder, her other arm wrapped around his ribs.
That picture now hung on Sabrina bedroom wall.
When the baby was born, Sherlock wasn't there. He had been sent on a domestic violence case to the other side of New York and wasn't even aware Kristy was in the hospital until Sabrina called him.
"Get your ass down to the hospital, Holmes. Congrats, your a father."
He was half surprised he didn't faint again.
And when he got there, Kristy was holding a tiny bundle, wrapped in a striped blanket and a pale pink hat.
His wife smiled exhaustedly up at him. "It's a girl."
Sherlock swore he had never seen anything more beautiful than his daughter's tiny, scrunched features. He held her for a minute before the baby started crying, hungry. She was featherlight, and when he held her, the tiniest of smiles flickered across her face.
Sherlock and Kristy named their new daughter Violet Angelica Holmes. And for six months, life couldn't be better.
And then those six months ended.