If You Love Me, Get Clean

Chapter Forty Nine

June 2017

You're always gonna be someone that I want
We have too many years between us
If I could jump into the past, I'd only change one thing
I'd never hurt you first, I'd never let you leave
And now I'm here, forever runnin' back to you, always

It's late when he comes in, and he pops his head round the door of the lounge, his bag still slung over his shoulder.

"You alright?" He asks as he strolls over. He asks that a lot these days, his eyes lingering on her belly as though it might spontaneously combust at any moment.

"Fine."

"Good," he leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips, brushing some hair back behind her ear in an action that was definitely not entirely necessary, but he takes comfort in that familiar routine. He smiles warmly down at her as he pulls back. "Hello."

She twists her mouth into a smile of her own, trying to keep it more 'sweet' than 'beaming', but she usually fails in that respect when it's him she's looking at. "Hi."

Satisfied with their welcome home he lifts the strap of his bag, ducking his head under it, then lowers the bag carefully to the coffee table. He'll likely take his violin out later that evening and perform something he played on his visit today. He takes off his coat and goes to hang it up, then heads straight for the kitchen. Within moments, the kettle is filled and placed on its stand, switched on, and left to do its work while Sherlock collects their mugs from the cupboard.

Alice smiles and listens to the sounds of him clattering about until he comes back into the living room, a mug of tea in each hand, and their jar of biscuits tucked under his arm.

It's a gorgeous sight, especially when she's spent the past hour or so wondering whether she could go without tea long enough for him to come home and make it. She's pregnant, she's allowed to be lazy.

He places the jar on the coffee table, her tea on the unit beside the arm of the sofa, and Alice lifts her legs so he can join her.

"How is she?" She asks as he makes himself comfortable.

He wiggles his head from side to side, unsure of what answer to give her. "She's the same." He says at last.

"Still quiet?"

"Yeah," he says. "Still quiet." He rests one hand on her ankle, and raises his mug to his lips, taking a tentative sip of too hot tea. She can tell that thoughts of his sister on that far away island are still on his mind.

"And you? You okay?" She asks, and he nods, lowering his mug and placing it on the table at his end.

"Better now I'm home with you."

"Hm. Want to talk about it?"

He purses his lips, thinking the question over. "No," he finally decides. "Not important. Just... long day."

She nods her understanding, setting her Kindle to one side to focus her entire attention on him. "Well, if you want a change of topic, maybe we should circle back to names."

Sherlock exhales softly and leans his head back against the sofa cushions, staring at the ceiling. "Something Jennifer Victoria Holmes. Something John Alexander Holmes." He mutters, mulling the fullness of their decided middle names over.

"Why don't we just call them 'Something'?" Alice asks, trying her best to keep a straight face. Sherlock rolls his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching as he pinches her toe. "What's the Greek for 'something'?"

Sherlock turns his head to look at her, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. "Káti," he says, his voice slow and suspicious. "Why?"

"Would work for a girl. So she's literally Something Jennifer Victoria Holmes."