221c - A Sherlock Fanfiction

John

I lay on my sofa, thinking. Mary was in the kitchen making some tea, and the little one was asleep. Thank god. I didn't think I could deal with any more crying.

My phone chimed, and I picked it up. It was Sherlock.

You are going to the dinner party tonight, right? -SH

Yes, with Mary. I sent the message. It had taken us ages to find a sitter, so Mrs. Hudson had eventually agreed to watch the baby. Thank god.

I swung my legs off of the sofa and stood up in one big seeping motion. I stretched my arms up and let out a big breath. Mary came into the room, carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.

"Excited for that Christmas dinner for Scotland Yard?" Mary asked, handing me a teacup. I nodded.

"I was nice of Lestrade to invite us, considering we're not police officers." I said, taking a sip of my tea.

"Well, you have helped them solve more murders than I can count on both hands." Mary stated as she picked up the baby.

"No," I chuckled. "Sherlock did that. I tagged along."

"You're not wrong."

"Hey!"

"What? You were the one who said it!"
"Yeah, but you weren't supposed to agree with me! You were supposed to tell me that I'm clever."

"Okay," she said, putting a hand on my chest. "You're clever."

"No I'm not." I said, just to be obstinate.

"No, you're right. You're not." Mary said with a chuckle. I had that one coming.

The doorbell rang, and I trotted over to the door and opened it. It was Mrs. Hudson.

"I came by to pick up the little one," she said, smiling.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson, you didn't have to do that. We could've brought her around on our way to the dinner!" Mary said.

Mrs. Hudson shook her head. "No, I wanted to come by and pick her up myself."

"Well alright, then." I said, and Mary handed Mrs. Hudson the baby.

Sherlock had to keep up his end of the deal. He had to go to the dinner, or I wouldn't do his shopping anymore. I picked up my mobile and phoned Sherlock.

"What John?" he asked gruffly.

"You are going." I said, in the tone of voice that a father gives to their misbehaving teenager.

"Yes."

"Good. With Ally, then?"

"Yes, who else?"

"I dunno, Molly?" He didn't answer for quite some time, and it occurred to me that it was a possibility that I had hit a soft spot. Crap. "Sorry, forget I said that. Fifty quid?"

"Sixty."

"I am not paying you sixty pounds to go out to dinner with your neighbor!"

"Seventy."

"Sherlock-"

"Eighty."

"Fifty."

"Sixty."

"Fine. Sixty."

"Good then. Can I go? I do have some pressing matters to attend."

"No you don't."

"Yes I d-"

"You are going to wrap yourself in a bedsheet and watch crimewatch, that's what you are going to do. That's not a pressing matter."

"True."

"So I was right then."

"Yes. Now, goodbye, John."

"Goodb-" he had already hung up. Prick.

"On the phone with Sherlock?" Mary asked.

"Yep." I sighed.

"I can't believe you are actually paying him. I was kidding when I suggested it, y'know."

"Well it worked."

"True."