Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Six Thatchers- Three

Chapter Three

Helping Mary down the steps, John throws me his keys as I manoeuvre Mary to his aid. "Fifty nine missed calls?" I question as Sherlock holds the door open for her. "Sorry, lost track of time."

Pulling half a donut on tarmac, we zoom down the street. "Ow! Oh my God. Oh my God!" Mary clutches to her abdomen for dear life. I look worriedly to her through the rear view mirror. "Relax. It's got two syllables..." John tries to instruct. "I'm a nurse, darling. I think I know what to do."

"Come on then, come on."

"Re..." John purses his lips, mimicking breathing. "Lax..." Together the Watsons blow out a breath. "Michelle, I don't think I can do this. Please, God, just drive! God, drive!" She screams.

Sherlock, sat on the other side to Mary, frantically types away on his phone. "Sherlock, Mary!" John calls over to him whilst letting Mary squeeze the living daylights out of his hand. "That's it, Mary. Re..." He purses his lips and sucks in a breath. "Don't you start." She responds to Sherlock, savagely. "Lax."

Moments later Sherlock and John's faces are squashed hard against the side windows as she slams her hand against the side of their heads. "Michelle?"

"Yes, love?"

"I think you have to pull over." She shifts back into a sitting position. "Mary, Mary..." John spoke over her heavy pants. "Pull Over!"

"Mary, listen to me, we're here. Keep taking long deep breaths. Sherlock run over and get a wheelchair, now!" I demand. Sherlock looks down towards Mary's legs. His mouth falls open and his eyes widen in horror. "Oh my God."

"Oh for heavens sake!" Pulling the car over to the curb of the hospital entrance, a nurse runs out with a chair. Swiftly climbing out the car, John helps his wife out and into the given chair.

John sprints down the corridors, pushing away whilst Mary holds onto me for dear life, Sherlock swiftly following behind. "Michelle, I don't think I can do this." She weeps. Booting a door open, we all help her over to the bed. I cup her face. "Mary, you can do this. We can do this." I determine. Nodding her head, I turn to get prepped up. "Sherlock, darling you'll have to wait outside. John are you staying or going?"

Another contraption hits and she shrieks. "I'll wait outside. Is that okay?" He turns to his wife who nods frantically. "I'll call you in when we're ready." Following them to the door, John turns to me. "Michelle..."

"Don't worry, she's in safe hands, I didn't do a year worth of training for nothing and this is the moment it's going to count." I spoke rapidly before shouting: "I NEED TWO NURSES IN ROOM FOUR NOW!" I bark out the order. Sherlock walks John over to the sitting area nearby. Two nurses scramble towards me.

Prepping everything for the ready, I check her over. "Right my lovely, your dilated enough so when the next contraction hits I need you to brace your chin on you chest and push."

"Can you call John in?" She breathed out. "JOHN! GET YOUR ARSE IN HERE!" I shout, she laughs slightly. He stumbles in and quickly scrambles to her side. "Ready, now push!" 

A hour later, a beautiful baby girl is born. Giving the new family a moment to themselves, I clean up. "Everything go well, I presume?" I glance at the mirror which viewed Sherlock standing by the doorframe behind me. "Yep, went brilliantly." I smile.

Binning the used paper towel, Sherlock spins me to him and casts the power which make my legs become weak. "What-what was that for?" I gasply stuttered. "I love you." His baritone voice murmurs. "I only helped deliver a baby." I laugh out.

At John and Mary's home, a flashbulb pops. Mary and John sit on the sofa, Mary cradling their new daughter. Helium balloons are floating on strings behind the sofa and there are gift bags and flowers on the coffee table in front of the family, a large white teddy bear beside the sofa from yours truly. John has his arm around his wife while Mary is holding her daughter's hand and the new parents are smiling as they pose for the photograph. "Has that come out?" Molly takes a look to Mar-Mars camera. "They never come out when I take them! Aww. She's so beautiful."

Molly fiddles with the camera and I look to the new family with adoration. "Have another go." Sherlock stands beside me 'engrossed in his phone'. "What about a name?"

"Catherine."

"Uh, yeah, we've gone off that."

"Have we?" John questions Mary. "Yeah."

"Well, you know what I think."

"It's not a girl's name." The Watsons chime simultaneously. Sherlock and I smile. "Molly, Mrs H and Michelle. We would love you to be godparents." John begins to stand up. "Oh! Really?" Molly squeals. "So lovely!" Mar-Mar gestures in kind. "Thank you." I smile out, happily. He then walks over to us, whilst Molly sits beside Mary. "And, uh..." He spares me a humorous glance. "You too, Sherlock?"

"You too what?"

"Godfather? We'd like you to be godfather."

"God is a ludicrous fiction dreamt up by inadequates who abnegate all responsibility to an invisible magic friend."

"Yeah, but there'll be cake. Will you do it?" Sherlock glances at him briefly. "I'll get back to you." I smack him lightly. "I mean, of course, I'd be honoured."

Some weeks later, an elderly vicar stands at the font in a church. Mary and John stand near him, Mary cradling the baby. Greg, Mar-Mar, Molly,  Sherlock and I are at the other side of the font; Stella and Ted stood behind us. "Father, we ask you to send your blessings on this water..." He leans forward and draws the sign of the cross in the water. "And sanctify it for our use this day, in Christ's name." Shaking the water off his hand, he turns to the parents. "Now, what name have you given your daughter?"

Mary and John smile at each other, then Mary turns to the vicar. "Rosamund-Mary Michelle Watson." I double take, startled. They smile towards me happily as a tear smoothed down my cheek surprised.

"Rosamund?"

"Means 'rose of the world.' Rosie for short. Didn't you get John's text?" Molly questions Sherlock. "No. I delete his texts. I delete any text that begins, 'Hi'." Molly raises her eyes skywards whilst I throw him a disapproving look. "No idea why people think you're incapable of human emotion." I raise my brow. "Sorry." She mumbles.

I lean into him, whispering: "Phone." Huffing out a breath, he lowers the phone and puts his hands behind his back. The vicar is now holding Rosamund, who is grizzling. "And now, godparents are you ready to help the parents of this child in their duties as Christian parents?"

"We are." We simultaneously reply. I elbow Sherlock warningly. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. Please repeat the question." Siri responds. John huffs out, Mary narrows her eyes to him and I swipe the phone from his hands.