BBC Sherlock Imagines

Lestrade: Pregnant

You tore the covers off of you and sprinted to the bathroom, hand over your mouth. The toilet seat was already up (I really need to train Greg to put it down) and you leaned over, finally able to let it out. You sat on ground when you were done flushing down the watery vile, and wondered why, for the second day in a row, you had woken up ready to puke. It made no sense. You hadn't had seafood, the milk was not expired, nor was the meat, the cheese, or anything else you ate. You felt weak kneed as you stood up to wash your face off in the sink and rinse your mouth out. After failing to get the weird taste out of your mouth, you decided food would be a good choice. You tiptoed out into the kitchen, finding a cold cup of coffee waiting for you. Greg, since you had gotten married 6 months ago, would pour you a cup of coffee in the morning when he poured his, and left it out waiting for you to reheat when you got up. Lately, he had been getting home later and having to leave earlier, a consequence of being on the verge of a breakthrough in a case. You grabbed the coffee to throw into the microwave, but instead poured it down the drain when you smelled it. Your insides scrambled and you shuddered at the feeling. Sighing, you grabbed a piece of bread and popped it in the toaster, then buttered it lightly and nibbled on it. All you wanted to do this morning was have a good breakfast and laze around. Yesterday, Thursday, you had taken off work after throwing up, and now you had a long 3 day weekend ahead of you, all of which Greg would be working. You decided to take a shower, one of your favorite pastimes, and something that usually made you feel better if you were under the weather.

You let the hot water fall over your face and down your body. You scrubbed and rub a dub dubbed until you were sure every inch of you was squeaky clean, and until the hot water had scalded your skin senseless. Stepping out, you grabbed a towel and wrapped it around you. Digging through your cupboards, you found facial moisturizer and other products you for your post shower routine. While digging around, you came across a small pink bag, a bow taped on top of it. Confused, you grabbed it out and opened it. Aha, I remember! Your sister, for your bachelorette gag gift, had gotten you lingerie, a pregnancy test, and a bottle of whiskey. Her tag line read,

"You may use these things one day... Hopefully not all on the same day!"

You chuckled lightly. The whiskey, you had used the night of the bachelorette party, the lingerie, you had never used seeing as your face colored the same shade of pink as it whenever you thought about using it, the only thing left was the pregnancy test and... You ripped the test open, and before you could stop yourself and think logically, you took it. You waited and waited and waited. I mean it makes sense. Don't get your hopes up though. But it makes sense. Morning sickness? Can't even drink my favorite coffee? But don't get your hopes up...

| |

Two lines. Positive. Pregnant. Me. Pregnant.

"I'M PREGNANT!" you screamed, tossing the test above your head. "GREG!" you yelled, but your shoulders slumped as you remembered he wasn't there. I'll just tell him tonight. That gives me all day to think of something creative.

~

When the time finally came for your husband to arrive home, he didn't. Instead you received a text.

Greg: Sorry love, won't be home for another two hours at the least. Don't bother waiting up. Love you.

Two hours?! It was already 8 o clock and you were exhausted from doing nothing all day. Bitterly, you laid in bed and turned on the TV. Your idea had been to stick it in the fridge (in a plastic baggie of course, it had your pee germs on it) where he would find it when he got out dinner that night. But your plan had been foiled. Now you laid in bed, waiting up to tell him the good news.