Chapter Text
Secret
He had no idea how to explain this proposition to John, now that he was back and they’d mended their razor wire fences. He never knew how John would react to such things. Would he storm off and move out or would he simply sigh and call him an idiot? Considering the brass tacks of the arrangement, there was little chance John would wholeheartedly approve and welcome a stranger into their already crowded home on a semi-permanent basis.
It was Molly’s idea, of course. Of course it was Molly’s idea, and he’d obliged. He’d scoffed and been at once on the defensive, when she’d asked. Why him? He was defective. He was a walking arsehole manual of how not to be human, according to most people.
John had said he was human once, but he’d also said he was a machine once. He’d said he was the wisest man but referred to him as an idiot more often than not. So John could react within any parameters from the high side of delight to the bell ends of cruelty and even though it was not his choice to make, it was within Sherlock’s predictive mind that telling John would be a dicey operation at best.
He’d obliged. Of course he had obliged. Her logic had won him over. She acknowledged that his relationship with Bee had set the idea in her mind and that acting as Rosie Bee’s child minder during John’s period of darkness had made her depressed at the loss, once he’d regained his senses and begun acting like the wonderful father John would have been all along if Mary had not been murdered.
She’d banged on about her biological clock and a bunch of other maternal nonsense he deleted, but finally she’d said the one bit that had changed the entire conversation for him.
“I’d let you be involved as much or as little as you wanted. You could be a total stranger if you’d prefer, but I’d like it if you could be... a real father, just like you are to Rosie?”
Those words had stopped him. His mind went so quiet he feared he’d relapsed or perhaps died. All the storms constantly beating against the diamond panes of his mind palace had calmed and when he looked out the window the sun was out and the garden was in bloom.
“Sherlock? If you can hear me, just think about it... because, I don’t mean to... that is... I just... we get on well, you know? So I’d get on with him or her too, and I know that you love me... not like that, but you do and me too, so it could be workable and I’d rather take a chance with your genetics, which I quite like, over an unknown file of half truths and—“
“Yes.” Sherlock said as he blinked back into time.
“What? Yes, to what, Sherlock?”
“All of it. How do you propose we accomplish the... implantation and produce an embryo?”
They’d done an unholy amount of research. There were down sides to each, not to mention costs. NHS denied single women fertility treatments and certainly fertility was not the issue and the simplest solution was the simplest solution.
They didn’t want to even consider multiple births or the chance of having to perform a reduction.
He was a fully functioning male after all, and though his experience was mostly theoretical, those few aberrations into clinical meant he knew he was perfectly capable of performing the necessary proceedings for an acceptable outcome. Thank you, Irene.
Molly tried to hide her multiple emotions on the subject, once brought forth and settled on the most brilliant shade of English Rose that Sherlock had ever seen in his friend.
“What? You assumed me to be ... unable? Well, then, the turkey Baster it is?” Sherlock had teased with a smirk.
Molly had giggled and the tension abated. “No, no... it’s the practical solution. I mean.. it is, all things considered. It’s just... you and John...”
“I know. But that... my stupidity with human error will never fly. He’s speaking to me. Considering moving back to Baker Street, and he does care for me... in some form. I’m afraid that’s the best I can hope for? You understand? It isn’t cheating if he doesn’t have it in him to truly desire me back?”
Molly had hit the nail on the head, so to speak. “It would be like saying you were cheating on me if John took you in his arms and ravished you silly?”
Her words were hurtful on many levels, but she’d said it with both kindness and a sad smile so he knew she was commiserating and not trying to put him off.
“Yes, well. Anyway, we should discuss logistics. We need to chart your cycle so we maintain optimum fertility levels. This won’t lead to misplaced pair bonding... we really must be aware of the abominable chemical interplay in our psychology. I wouldn’t wish to hurt you ... again... for the world, you know?” He said the last part softly with a kiss to her cheek.