It's Not Real

Chapter Thirty

Sherlock glanced up and she was smiling that little cheeky smile of hers. The one that made her look like she knew every secret in the universe and he knew absolutely nothing. She was trying to murder him. Cause of death: love and cuteness.

"I'm telling you, the agency they were sending in just kept getting worse. I had no idea where they were getting them, the week before I went on maternity leave this bloke–" She paused while Mary said something that made her lips twist into a half smile half grimace. "Oh, she was an idiot, but wait until I tell you about this one, they were scrabbling around to find me a replacement and–" Mary was speaking again and Sherlock heard her cackle through the phone. "Exactly! Anyway, this bloke. Such a creep. Stevo– yeah, I know, right?– spent the entirety of his first morning staring at my tits like he was trying to make eye contact with them and assert his dominance or something. You'd think the fact I'm very obviously pregnant would put him off, but clearly not."

'Pregnant with my child' Sherlock thought, a mildly possessive feeling creeping in.

His own eyes drifted downward, her braless breasts bouncing a fraction under her t-shirt when she laughed.

Evelyn did eventually find a way to sort out the issues at work and arranged the appropriate cover while she was off, but if she hadn't he was more than willing to arrange for that dunce Stevo to accidentally fall down some stairs or something else equally violent and debilitating. That, he'd decided, would not have been a hardship.

Eve snapped her fingers in front of her chest to get his attention, then gestured rather pointedly to her eyes while narrowing them. 'They're up here' she conveyed without uttering a syllable.

Shit. She'd caught him looking. And rather than being, best case scenario, ready to throw the phone down and whip her t-shirt over her head to let him have a go at them, she just looked annoyed.

She snorted amusedly at something Mary said and he relaxed, hoping he was out of danger. "Alright– Yeah... Yeah. See you tomorrow, bye."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her when she sunk into the sofa next to him. It took all his strength not to watch her breasts move as she did, as if thinking about her naked form didn't already take up a significant amount of his time anyway. "What's happening tomorrow?"

"Hm? Oh, lunch date."

"One of those..." He wiggled his hand in the air. "Girls days or something?"

Eve frowned. "Not really, but you won't be here so..." She trailed off at the confused look on his face. "I thought you were going to Cambridge in the morning for that blackmail case?"

"Yeesss..." he tipped his head, thinking. "Forgot about that."

Evelyn pulled her knees up underneath her and scooted closer to him. "When you boys go off god knows where we usually go out, I suggested a museum but Mary vetoed that for brunch instead. Did you think I was going to abandon you for Mary without a word?"

Sherlock went to protest vehemently, but the smile on her face made him realise she was teasing. "Minx."

"Can I make it up to you?" She tickled her fingertips down his cheek bone. "I could let you stare at my boobs if it makes you feel better."

The tips of his ears were burning pink. "Ah. Yes, I was admiring them." She bit into her lip and Sherlock felt like his heart might actually explode in his chest. "We can go to a museum, if you like. Had one in mind?"