The Holmes Family: A Collection of Short Stories

Say That Again? (Part 2)

SHERLOCK

"You have to eat, Ally," I said, holding the box of cereal. "You are carrying my child. I am looking out for my future son or daughter when I say this: EAT." I poured a bowl of cereal and shoved it into her hands. She put milk in it, grumbling at me the entire time. I watched her to make sure she ate all of it, which she did.

"I don't see you eating," she said, saltily.

"I'm not fostering life inside my abdomen," I retorted.

She snorted. I put on some tea and brought her a cuppa, setting it down in front of her. She picked it up and sniffed it, then set down as fast as she could. Her face contorted, and it looked like she was going to be sick.

"Are you alright?" I asked, confused. She had a caffeine addiction which she fed by drinking at least four cups of tea a day. Sometimes she drank about six, but never less than three.

She shook her head. "I can't. It smells awful."

I studied her. I knew that pregnancy changed personal tastes, but Ally without tea was going to be interesting. "You are going to have to get caffeine somehow, though." I said.

She looked up at me. "I don't need caffeine," she said, defensive.

I gave her a look. "Ally, you never drink less than three cups of tea a day. You are going to go through caffeine withdrawals if you don't find some other way to kerb your addiction."

She lurched forward, grabbing her mouth. "Hold that thought," she squeaked, and ran into the restroom.

I came in after her, to find her emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet. I knelt down beside her and pulled her hair away from her face, as gently as I could. She looked up at me and moaned. "This sucks," she said weakly.

I handed her a flannel and she wiped her mouth, as well as a few tears. The few that she missed I wiped away with my thumbs, and pulled her into a hug.

She had been pregnant for about a month now, and we had still not told Scotland Yard. I was unsure of how they would react to discovering I was to be a father.

"How about we tell Scotland Yard?" I suggested, a half smile on my face.

"That I'm pregnant?" she asked, a half frown etching itself onto the lower half of her face.

"Yes. I think Greg should know," I said.

She nodded. "Yeah."

ALLISON

We walked into Scotland Yard, twin coats billowing out around our ankles dramatically. It was about two in the afternoon, and I was eating rice cereal out of a bag in my left coat pocket, and holding Sherlock's hand with my right.

"Greg!" Sherlock exclaimed, waltzing into the Detective Inspector's office.

The DI looked up sharply in surprise. "What the hell're you two doin' here?" he asked, confused.

"We have an announcement, Greg." said Sherlock.

Greg gave him a look. "Are you saying my name as much as possible, to assure yourself that you are saying the right name?"

"Yes... Greg." Sherlock said, almost guiltily.

Greg burst out laughing. "Out with it then," he said, still chuckling. "What have you got to tell me?"

I put my hand on the upper region of my stomach, almost instinctively. "Let's call the others in here, I'm sure they'd love to hear this." I said, a wry smile on my face.