The Holmes Family: A Collection of Short Stories

Say That Again? (Part 4)

SHERLOCK

I got up out of bed and yawned, stretching. Ally was surrounded by pillows in the bed, holding at least three with her legs and arms. It was the only way she could get comfortable, now that she was so near the due date. She had two weeks until the baby was supposed to be born, and she was super uncomfortable.

I began to make her some breakfast, and had a cuppa and a biscuit for my own. She staggered out of bed, and down the corridor, as I plated her breakfast.

She sat down at the table, and I placed it in front of her. "Thank you, Sherlock," she said, smiling up at me. I shrugged, and took another sip of my tea. She brushed her fringe out of her eyes. "I'm thinking of growing it out," she said. "The fringe, I mean."

I gave her a quizzical look. "No, I like it. It balances your face nicely."

She gave me a half smile. "Yeah, but I'm tired of having it in my eyes all the time."

I shrugged. "I like it. I guess I just don't know what you look like without fringe, you've had it since I met you."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Oh God! I am so ready for this baby to be born!" she groaned, flopping back in her chair. She sat up straight, after a moment, and said, "But, oh, God, Sherlock, I am so scared."

"I know. I'm scared too." I said, not entirely sure how to console her. As you may know, I'm not the best with interpersonal communication.

"What if I'm not enough? What if I'm not a good mum?"

"What makes you think you won't be a good mum?" I asked. "I think you will be a great mum. I'm just not sure I'll be a great dad."

"What if I've done something wrong?"

"We read to our baby every night. Sometimes fairy stories, sometimes Shakespeare, sometimes Tolkien. Even Hemingway or Dickens. I play my violin for our baby, you play your cello and your piano. You sing to our baby. You talk to our baby. I talk to our baby."

"You talk to our baby?" she asked as she tilted her head. It wasn't stated unkindly, she was simply curious.

"Sometimes, Ally, when it's late at night and I can't sleep, and you're not awake, I talk to our baby about my day, and about how much they are going to love this world. How it's sometimes going to be dangerous, or scary, but that I'll always be there. I would die protecting our baby, and I would die protecting you." I noticed that her eyes were filled with tears, but she didn't seem to be sad. I knew that people sometimes cried when they were happy or touched, and it always confused me. I kept going, however. "I don't think you should ever doubt yourself. You will be the best mum this world has ever seen. You have so much love. So much love for someone you've never even met, and you're doubting yourself? Don't doubt yourself. You will be wonderful."

She stood up, walked around the table, and wrapped her arms around me. She buried her head into my chest, and I set my mug down on the table. I gingerly returned the embrace, conscious of her pregnant stomach pressed into my abdomen.

"Thank you, Sherlock. I needed to hear that." she said, so quietly that I almost missed it.

ALLISON

I sat down in my chair. It was the one Sherlock had gotten especially for me, seeing as John's was off limits, a sort of mutually understood, unspoken rule. I opened the case that contained my cello, and pulled out said instrument. I set it up, playing a few quick riffs and tuning it ever so slightly. I warmed up a bit, then began to play.

I started out with Canon in D, one of my very favourite pieces. I know that it is one of the most widely recognized, cliché pieces out there, but I loved it, and that is all that matters.