The Scions of Deduction
Title: The Scions of Deduction
Author:
capt_facepalm
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters: John/Sarah, canon characters, original characters
Summary: Set a year and a half after a deadly incident, expectant parents John and Sarah are in for a surprise.
Warnings: Mention of major character death
Word Count: 1490
Author's Notes: Alternate Universe and kid!fic
Previously on The Scions of Deduction...
Scions 101
and now
Scions 102
Morning sickness was a misnomer. Dr Sarah Sawyer was feeling much better now. Her first and most immediate problem was overcoming random bouts of nausea. She knew that her symptoms would not confine themselves to mornings. That would be too much to hope for. Having these symptoms return in her third trimester, while uncommon, was not unheard of. These days, the wrong taste, the smell of some perfumes, or seeing a particular shade of yellow, sent her dashing for the loo. Her obstetrician was sympathetic but unconcerned, so Sarah tried not to let it interfere too much. Besides, focusing on work always took her mind off her other problems.
Her other main concern was her husband. John was finally showing signs of restlessness after his long convalescence from injuries that all but killed him. His recovery had been slow, but now he needed to occupy his mind with more than how his life had been changed. She knew him well enough to worry that he would push himself too far trying to reach unattainable goals. His frustration with his lack of progress and his disappointment with his setbacks made him unbearably cranky, or worse, utterly despondent. Anticipation of their baby was helping more than it was hindering as John and Sarah were, in turns, both thrilled and anxious to be first-time parents.
Sarah had just finished taking her elderly patient’s blood pressure when the mobile phone in her purse began to chirp.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Philpott, I have to take this,’ she apologised.
‘John, is something the matter...? You know you called my mobile, and not Reception...? Can it wait? I’m with a patient... I’ll call you back in a little while... I don’t know. A few minutes... Are you sure there’s nothing wrong? Good, then. I’ll call you back soon.’
A quizzical expression crossed her face as she put her phone away. Something was wrong. John was unlikely to call her mobile by mistake.
‘I’m sorry, that was my husband. He usually doesn’t call me directly when I’m at work. I thought it might be an emergency.’
‘That’s all right, dear. I understand. Mr Philpott, God rest him, was always nervous when I was with child, even after we’d had our sixth!’
Sarah refilled her patient’s blood pressure prescription, and advised the usual: more exercise and less fatty foods. Although she refused to rush, John’s call unnerved her a little and she was relieved when Mrs Philpott had finally left. Within seconds of her departure, Sarah was ringing John’s mobile.
.oOOo.
The grey sedan idled at the kerb outside the surgery. John tucked his phone back into his pocket.
‘She’s with a patient. She’ll ring back soon.’
Mycroft frowned. How he detested having to wait. Doctors taking their Hippocratic Oath seriously should not be allowed to interfere with his busy schedule. He took the opportunity to observe John again. John, aware of the scrutiny, but unwilling to let his indignation show, closed his eyes and waited for Sarah’s call. It was not long before her friendly ringtone sounded.
‘Sarah, sorry… I’m fine. I’m downstairs. Can you come down?’
‘Don’t tell her I’m here,’ mouthed Mycroft.
‘Mycroft Holmes is here. I’m in his car, just outside the entrance...’ John said, earning himself a glare.
‘Give me that,’ Mycroft said demanding John’s phone. ‘Hello, Dr Sawyer. No, I haven’t detained him… John is free to go at any time, but I don’t think he wants to right now. Threatened him? No. Sometimes people can be reasoned with without having to resort to threats… I have something to discuss with you both… No, I would prefer to speak with you in person. Please join us. We’ll have a nice chat over lunch,’ he handed the phone back to John.
‘Sarah? I’m sorry… Yeah, I know what he wants. You need to hear this.’
With Sarah on her way, John turned to Mycroft.
‘If she says ‘no’, I will stand by her decision, and there is nothing, NOTHING, you can say or do to make me change my mind. You will have to make other arrangements.’
‘Of course,’ Mycroft’s smile told John otherwise.
.oOOo.
The waitress surveyed the early lunch crowd as they started to trickle in. Like most successful servers, she was a shrewd people-watcher. Earning a living depended on it. The party of four who just entered consisted of two couples. The banker and his executive assistant were not a couple as such, but the man with the cane and the pregnant woman were obviously together. A table, for ease of access was the right seating for them. No problem; there was still plenty of choice. She smiled and escorted them to an empty table.
‘A booth, please, if you don’t mind,’ the banker man said. Before she could politely point out how narrow and confined the booths were, he pointed to a secluded booth in the corner and demanded, ‘That booth, if it’s not too much trouble.’
‘After you, my dear,’ he said to the pregnant lady as he took their coats. His assistant waited for the lame man to slide along before she took her place along the aisle. To the waitress, the seating arrangement appeared intentionally designed to trap and intimidate. Really, how absurd! She took the orders and went away. Whatever was going on was none of her business.
.oOOo.
Mycroft apologised to Sarah again and began to introduce her to the Earncliffe’s situation. Sarah’s reaction had been the same as John’s: sympathetic to Eleanor’s plight, but failing to understand what it had to do with John and herself.
‘Mycroft wants us to adopt the Earncliffe’s twins,’ John explained.
‘Impossible! We can’t… John, tell him!’
‘I tried to… but Mycroft doesn’t play fair.’
‘He threatened you! I knew it!’
John reached over and held her hand. ‘He didn’t threaten me.’
‘You can’t be serious. What could make you possibly think we could do this? Why would you even want to?’
Mycroft handed her his iPad. The image of the twins was already selected. Sarah stared as realisation struck her. They were Sherlock’s children. She didn’t know how or why, but they were definitely his. No wonder John felt pressured. She looked at her husband’s strained face while he, in turn, tried to gauge her response. Mycroft was right. He needed no threat in this case. John Watson would move heaven and earth for those children. Or die trying, and that is what scared her most.
‘You’re a right bastard, Mr Holmes. You know that?’
‘My dear Dr Sawyer, I’m not doing my job if I do not get called that at least twice per day.’
‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Time is short and those children are about to get thrown into the vortex known as our national foster care system. That is unacceptable to me, but I am in no position to adopt them myself. You and John provide the perfect solution. I can trust this to nobody else.’
‘What about her?’ Sarah said, indicating Anthea.
Anthea’s eyebrows shot up and her mobile clattered to the table. She scrambled to retrieve it.
‘My assistant has other duties at this time. I’ve made my decision. If it is a matter of money, rest assured that I will--’
‘How dare you? We will not be coerced or bribed. The choice is not ours to make, nor is it yours, Mr Holmes,’ Sarah positively seethed. ‘It is up to Eleanor Earncliffe. They are still her children! John and I are not in a good position at this time. She may not approve of us! She hasn’t even met us!’
Mycroft looked over at Anthea.
‘Her doctors at the Woodley Hospice say ‘Better sooner than later’. She’s still compos mentis.’
‘I fear Eleanor’s time is near. If you wish to see her now, we can take my car,’ offered Mycroft. ‘I’ll leave you two to talk it over. We’ll be waiting outside.’
With that, Mycroft and Anthea left the restaurant. John leaned toward his wife.
‘Sarah, this will change our lives. I know it's mad. If you think we cannot do this, we’ll just have to tell him so.’
‘I don’t see how we can adopt those children, and yet, from what I know of Mycroft Holmes, I do not know how we can refuse. First, let’s see what Eleanor Earncliffe has to say. She is still their mother. She will see that this will not work and make Mycroft come up with a better alternative. What other choice do we have?’
‘Our waitress might let us sneak out the back door and we could make a run for it-- ‘
‘Sure. What a fine pair we’d make! You hopping along with your cane and me waddling to keep up with this watermelon in my belly!’
With reluctance, they gathered their things. John helped Sarah with her coat and they went out to join the others at the sedan.
.oOOo.
Next time: Eleanor Earncliffe's Dilemma...
Author:
capt_facepalm
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters: John/Sarah, canon characters, original characters
Summary: Set a year and a half after a deadly incident, expectant parents John and Sarah are in for a surprise.
Warnings: Mention of major character death
Word Count: 1490
Author's Notes: Alternate Universe and kid!fic
Previously on The Scions of Deduction...
Scions 101
and now
Scions 102
Morning sickness was a misnomer. Dr Sarah Sawyer was feeling much better now. Her first and most immediate problem was overcoming random bouts of nausea. She knew that her symptoms would not confine themselves to mornings. That would be too much to hope for. Having these symptoms return in her third trimester, while uncommon, was not unheard of. These days, the wrong taste, the smell of some perfumes, or seeing a particular shade of yellow, sent her dashing for the loo. Her obstetrician was sympathetic but unconcerned, so Sarah tried not to let it interfere too much. Besides, focusing on work always took her mind off her other problems.
Her other main concern was her husband. John was finally showing signs of restlessness after his long convalescence from injuries that all but killed him. His recovery had been slow, but now he needed to occupy his mind with more than how his life had been changed. She knew him well enough to worry that he would push himself too far trying to reach unattainable goals. His frustration with his lack of progress and his disappointment with his setbacks made him unbearably cranky, or worse, utterly despondent. Anticipation of their baby was helping more than it was hindering as John and Sarah were, in turns, both thrilled and anxious to be first-time parents.
Sarah had just finished taking her elderly patient’s blood pressure when the mobile phone in her purse began to chirp.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Philpott, I have to take this,’ she apologised.
‘John, is something the matter...? You know you called my mobile, and not Reception...? Can it wait? I’m with a patient... I’ll call you back in a little while... I don’t know. A few minutes... Are you sure there’s nothing wrong? Good, then. I’ll call you back soon.’
A quizzical expression crossed her face as she put her phone away. Something was wrong. John was unlikely to call her mobile by mistake.
‘I’m sorry, that was my husband. He usually doesn’t call me directly when I’m at work. I thought it might be an emergency.’
‘That’s all right, dear. I understand. Mr Philpott, God rest him, was always nervous when I was with child, even after we’d had our sixth!’
Sarah refilled her patient’s blood pressure prescription, and advised the usual: more exercise and less fatty foods. Although she refused to rush, John’s call unnerved her a little and she was relieved when Mrs Philpott had finally left. Within seconds of her departure, Sarah was ringing John’s mobile.
.oOOo.
The grey sedan idled at the kerb outside the surgery. John tucked his phone back into his pocket.
‘She’s with a patient. She’ll ring back soon.’
Mycroft frowned. How he detested having to wait. Doctors taking their Hippocratic Oath seriously should not be allowed to interfere with his busy schedule. He took the opportunity to observe John again. John, aware of the scrutiny, but unwilling to let his indignation show, closed his eyes and waited for Sarah’s call. It was not long before her friendly ringtone sounded.
‘Sarah, sorry… I’m fine. I’m downstairs. Can you come down?’
‘Don’t tell her I’m here,’ mouthed Mycroft.
‘Mycroft Holmes is here. I’m in his car, just outside the entrance...’ John said, earning himself a glare.
‘Give me that,’ Mycroft said demanding John’s phone. ‘Hello, Dr Sawyer. No, I haven’t detained him… John is free to go at any time, but I don’t think he wants to right now. Threatened him? No. Sometimes people can be reasoned with without having to resort to threats… I have something to discuss with you both… No, I would prefer to speak with you in person. Please join us. We’ll have a nice chat over lunch,’ he handed the phone back to John.
‘Sarah? I’m sorry… Yeah, I know what he wants. You need to hear this.’
With Sarah on her way, John turned to Mycroft.
‘If she says ‘no’, I will stand by her decision, and there is nothing, NOTHING, you can say or do to make me change my mind. You will have to make other arrangements.’
‘Of course,’ Mycroft’s smile told John otherwise.
.oOOo.
The waitress surveyed the early lunch crowd as they started to trickle in. Like most successful servers, she was a shrewd people-watcher. Earning a living depended on it. The party of four who just entered consisted of two couples. The banker and his executive assistant were not a couple as such, but the man with the cane and the pregnant woman were obviously together. A table, for ease of access was the right seating for them. No problem; there was still plenty of choice. She smiled and escorted them to an empty table.
‘A booth, please, if you don’t mind,’ the banker man said. Before she could politely point out how narrow and confined the booths were, he pointed to a secluded booth in the corner and demanded, ‘That booth, if it’s not too much trouble.’
‘After you, my dear,’ he said to the pregnant lady as he took their coats. His assistant waited for the lame man to slide along before she took her place along the aisle. To the waitress, the seating arrangement appeared intentionally designed to trap and intimidate. Really, how absurd! She took the orders and went away. Whatever was going on was none of her business.
.oOOo.
Mycroft apologised to Sarah again and began to introduce her to the Earncliffe’s situation. Sarah’s reaction had been the same as John’s: sympathetic to Eleanor’s plight, but failing to understand what it had to do with John and herself.
‘Mycroft wants us to adopt the Earncliffe’s twins,’ John explained.
‘Impossible! We can’t… John, tell him!’
‘I tried to… but Mycroft doesn’t play fair.’
‘He threatened you! I knew it!’
John reached over and held her hand. ‘He didn’t threaten me.’
‘You can’t be serious. What could make you possibly think we could do this? Why would you even want to?’
Mycroft handed her his iPad. The image of the twins was already selected. Sarah stared as realisation struck her. They were Sherlock’s children. She didn’t know how or why, but they were definitely his. No wonder John felt pressured. She looked at her husband’s strained face while he, in turn, tried to gauge her response. Mycroft was right. He needed no threat in this case. John Watson would move heaven and earth for those children. Or die trying, and that is what scared her most.
‘You’re a right bastard, Mr Holmes. You know that?’
‘My dear Dr Sawyer, I’m not doing my job if I do not get called that at least twice per day.’
‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Time is short and those children are about to get thrown into the vortex known as our national foster care system. That is unacceptable to me, but I am in no position to adopt them myself. You and John provide the perfect solution. I can trust this to nobody else.’
‘What about her?’ Sarah said, indicating Anthea.
Anthea’s eyebrows shot up and her mobile clattered to the table. She scrambled to retrieve it.
‘My assistant has other duties at this time. I’ve made my decision. If it is a matter of money, rest assured that I will--’
‘How dare you? We will not be coerced or bribed. The choice is not ours to make, nor is it yours, Mr Holmes,’ Sarah positively seethed. ‘It is up to Eleanor Earncliffe. They are still her children! John and I are not in a good position at this time. She may not approve of us! She hasn’t even met us!’
Mycroft looked over at Anthea.
‘Her doctors at the Woodley Hospice say ‘Better sooner than later’. She’s still compos mentis.’
‘I fear Eleanor’s time is near. If you wish to see her now, we can take my car,’ offered Mycroft. ‘I’ll leave you two to talk it over. We’ll be waiting outside.’
With that, Mycroft and Anthea left the restaurant. John leaned toward his wife.
‘Sarah, this will change our lives. I know it's mad. If you think we cannot do this, we’ll just have to tell him so.’
‘I don’t see how we can adopt those children, and yet, from what I know of Mycroft Holmes, I do not know how we can refuse. First, let’s see what Eleanor Earncliffe has to say. She is still their mother. She will see that this will not work and make Mycroft come up with a better alternative. What other choice do we have?’
‘Our waitress might let us sneak out the back door and we could make a run for it-- ‘
‘Sure. What a fine pair we’d make! You hopping along with your cane and me waddling to keep up with this watermelon in my belly!’
With reluctance, they gathered their things. John helped Sarah with her coat and they went out to join the others at the sedan.
.oOOo.
Next time: Eleanor Earncliffe's Dilemma...