The Watson-Holmes (Sequel To The Perfect Cradle)

Reminisce

John was sound asleep at the early hours of the afternoon when he heard a groan of disapproval from the bathroom.The blogger didn't care of what his husband had to say this morning, considering he just got done with another round of chemo the day before and he was home all day throwing up and sleeping.

He felt the other side of the bed compress and a deep voiced huff come from the person beside him. With a smirk in his sleep, John cracked an eye then quickly shut it again.

"What is it Sherlock?" John asked.

"My flowers aren't hit." Sherlock muffled into the pillow that he threw over his face. John raised a brow at his supposed husband's words.

"What on earth did you say?"

"My trousers won't fit!" He replied in a raised voice, moving the pillow from his face before slamming it back in place with a huff of frustration.

The blogger could barely suppress the smirk that was quickly spreading across his face at the complaint his husband had about an ill-fitting garment. John slowly rose with shaky limbs holding him up as he turned around in bed to face the angry detective.

Sherlock had on one of his navy blue dress shirts with the buttons undone and the top of his trousers barely zipped. His skin was milky white but was slightly tanner than usual with the sunny weather hitting this side of London and the Watson-Holmes spending more days at the beach or at the park. But John wasn't paying any attention to the subtle tan Sherlock had, but more to the fact of his lower stomach.

"What's this? You're starting to show." John said and pride started to spread throughout his chest. Bending down to inspect the warm swell that was his husband's abdomen, the blogger grinned from ear to ear and kissed the skin that had just begun to stretch.

"Don't point that out to me John! I already had enough trouble with it this morning." Sherlock groaned, setting the pillow behind his head and resting with his arms tucked underneath it. "I missed a conference with Lestrade early this morning because of the fatigue, I couldn't keep breakfast down with the horrible morning sickness, and now I can't even get dressed without this baby causing me even more distress! I'm sick of it John!" Sherlock huffed after his rant about being totally uncomfortable with the being inside him causing so much discomfort.

"But you wouldn't give it up for the world, would you?" John asked, crawling over to Sherlock's chest and setting his head upon it; listening to the steady beat of his partner's heart.

He heard the detective hum in comfort and felt the chest rise and fall with a heavy sigh. With a grin, Sherlock replied: "God no."

The blogger chuckled. "My point exactly. Now, if you could help me get up and get to the bathroom." Slowly but surely setting himself to the edge of the bed as Sherlock eventually got up and helped him to his feet.

"How are you doing my love?" Sherlock asked. John licked his dry lips then gave a hard sigh before weakly shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess I'm doing okay. For as well as anybody can be who just went through another round of chemo, but fine nonetheless. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing fine as well. Frustrated that none of my clothes won't fit anymore but I think I can look passed that. Our little miracle could never make me that mad." Sherlock smirked, setting his hand to his swollen stomach as John marveled at the detective's actions. Sherlock obviously noticed his husband's eyes wandering to his lower abdomen.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"You've never done that before, that touching thing with our baby." John replied, placing his hand to Sherlock's with a grin of affection.