This Is Real

Chapter Three

"Sherlock?"

He grunted in response.

"You're at least half awake then," she lay back on the pillow and set her son free, knowing exactly what he was going to do. "Wake him up properly, Matty."

Matthew climbed over Sherlock, smacking him in the face and babbling loudly at him. Getting nothing more than a 'careful' in response from his father, he continued to use his body as an adventure playground, shuffling dangerously close to– "Oof!" It was only when a small knee landed on his crotch that Sherlock decided to defend himself. "Daddy actually needs those," he blenched, lifting Matthew onto the mattress beside him. "Unless you really don't want another sibling, or for Daddy to have fun with Mummy anymore."

Evelyn laughed, reaching over to hold her son as he nuzzled into her shoulder. "Daddy isn't a morning person."

"Mm," Sherlock rolled onto his side, throwing an arm over the pair next to him. "Don't mind the cuddles, though."

"Me too," said a small voice from the doorway, pottering over to the end of the bed, raising her arms. "Daddy?"

For someone who felt barely alive just yet, Sherlock was incredibly speedy in kneeling up and lifting his daughter into the middle of the bed. He'd always been putty in her hands. "Much better," he said. "All my loves."

Evelyn smiled softly. "As sweet as this is, you're going to have to get up and feed them."

Sherlock whined. "Noo... can't we just stay in bed all day?"

"I need to leave in five minutes, you said you would get up."

He opened one eye. "Where are you going?"

She sighed, clearly a little frustrated. "I have an eye appointment. We discussed this."

Sherlock finally noticed that his wife was, in fact, washed and dressed for the day. "When did we discuss it?"

"Three days ago. You were in the playroom with these two, I popped up to say dinner was ready and told you about the appointment then. Ringing any bells?"

He frowned for a moment, then remembered. "You were wearing that ribbed top, the one that, uh– accentuates," he gestured to his chest. "My friends."

"Does it?" she looked thoughtful for a moment, then decided to think about that particular item of clothing later. "Wait, what has that got to do... oh. Seriously?"

He gave a halfhearted shrug. "I don't do it intentionally."

"What you're saying is you struggle to take in information if I'm looking particularly..." she glanced down to their children, mainly the one who heard and repeated everything, but she appeared to have fallen back to sleep. Still, better safe than sorry. "Nice."

"Pretty much."

She gained an amused expression. "Your friends?"

He blushed. "I was being diplomatic."

"Hm. Anyway, your friends and I have an appointment and can't be late," she climbed off the bed. "I'll take the car, shouldn't be long."

"Must you go?" He pouted. "You're already blind as a bat, what else can they do for you?" She tilted her head, eyes narrowing and her eyebrows doing that turn down thing they did when she was annoyed. "Oh. No, sorry, that was– sorry?"

"Thin ice."

He winced. "Yes, deserved. Apologies."

"Keep that up and you won't see your friends for at least a week." She strolled around to his side of the bed, moving to kiss him.