Archive of Our Own

'Do you think we should keep this baby?'

Years ago Bill might have reacted differently, but nineteen years had taught him a lot and instead of doing what anyone else would have done, snapping his head around and with an expression of horror demanding to know what Sherlock meant, Bill simply dried his hands and hung the tea towel up before walking through to the living room where Sherlock was laying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

'I do, yeah,' he said casually, and sat down on the coffee table beside Sherlock, 'Do you?'

'...I'm not sure.'

'Okay,' Bill nodded, 'Pros and cons. Pros...you like kids.'

'No I don't.'

'Okay, fine, you like YOUR kids.'

'Better.'

'We can afford it.'

Sherlock nodded.

'You quite like being pregnant.' Bill smirked, 'And I REALLY like you when you're pregnant.'

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes.

'Cons...we already have five...or should that be a pro? I mean, at this stage one more isn't going to make a difference. But...well, I suppose we are both almost fifty...on the other hand we have loads of help. Con...at the rate Hamish is going through girlfriends and boyfriends we may well end up grandparents before the year is out. Other cons are...well we'd be adding another member to the gang of criminal masterminds we call our children and London shall not thank us for that!'

He'd hoped that would make Sherlock laugh, but the consulting detective didn't, instead he continued to stare at the ceiling, refusing to look at Bill.

'What if there is something wrong with it?'

'Oh, love.' Bill's heart went out to his husband, 'You've asked that every single time.'

'But statistically my age would now increase the risk of-'

'I'm a midwife, Lock, I know all the statistics.' he reached out an took Sherlock's hand, running his thumb across the soft skin, 'What do you want?'

'I want to throw my mobile in the river and then run off to Sussex and breed bees.' Sherlock pouted like a child and then he sighed and turned to look at Bill, 'I want to keep it.'

'So why ask?'

'In case you didn't.'

Bill laughed, 'Are you joking? You know how I feel about you when you're pregnant!'

Sherlock did not look impressed with his husband's knowing wink, but there was a trace of relief on his face that calmed Bill's worry. He leaned down and kissed Sherlock softly and then stood up and walked off.

'Where are you going?' Sherlock demanded, half sitting up.

'Nowhere, I just needed to get something,' Bill came into the room with his hands behind his back and a smile on his face.

'What are you hiding?'

'Guess.'

'I don't GUESS!' Sherlock spat, but his interest was clearly piqued, which made Bill grin more.

As Sherlock made to flop back down on the sofa in a sulk, he was hit in the chest by something soft and white. He went to pick it up as another one hit his arm.

'What's this?' he sneered, lifting them up and then his eyes narrowed, 'Bee keeping gloves? Is this some new fetish you've-'

'Fuck off!' Bill laughed, 'The rest of the suit is in the bedroom.'

'So it is a fet-'

'I HAD been saving it for our wedding anniversary, but if you are going to be a dick about it then maybe I should just-'

Sherlock's grip on the gloves tightened and he looked up at Bill with deep suspicion.

'If it's not a sexual thing then why have you-'

'It's not Sussex, it's the other side of Regents Park actually.'

'What is?'

'And I would have done it a long time ago, I tried, but the waiting list is years long and you basically have to wait for someone else to die and even then it takes some persuading and-'

'Bill?'

Bill bit his lip and recomposed himself before speaking, 'They only told me earlier in the week, and I wanted to make sure it was all signed and stuff before I told you. And then I had to buy the suit and and stuff and-'

'Bill!' Sherlock repeated, losing his patience with Bill's rambling.

'I got you an allotment.'

In the silence that followed Bill was sure he could hear Sherlock's disdain and it would have upset him except....

'.....And four bee hives.'

Sherlock went very still, his eyes open wide and the gloves clutched to his chest.

'Bees?'

Bill nodded.

'You bought me bees?' Sherlock looked like a small child who had just been told Santa was real.

'Well, the bees haven't arrived yet, I thought you would want to choose which type you wanted. I didn't even know there were different types, but the bloke I got all the stuff from said if you let him know what you want he can order them and-' Bill was cut off by Sherlock leaping off the sofa and swirling his huge coat around him before wrenching open the door of the flat.

'Don't just stand there, come on!'

'Where?'

'To see my bee hives!' Sherlock said and started down the stairs. Bill smiled and shook his head and then Sherlock was back in the room again, reaching Bill in two strides and kissing him hard before turning away again, 'And I'll need more notebooks, and a tape measure and sample jars and slides and-'

Bill lifted his wallet and keys and followed his husband out the door, laughing quietly to himself.