Beauty and the High-Functioning Sociopath {#PFCC2k16}

Bad Day for Alex

A few months after Alex and Sherlock had almost gotten into an accident, she woke up next to him. He wasn't really having nightmares anymore. Alex had a very bad feeling when she woke up. Sherlock stirred beside his wife and opened his eyes.

"Goodmorning, dear." He smiled.

"Yeah, not a good morning for me." Alex snapped.

"What's wrong? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" Sherlock teased.

"No, but I did wake up with something." Alex said, rushing to the bathroom. She didn't come out for an hour. When she did come out, she looked miserable. 

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked.

"Don't. Talk. To. Me." Alex growled. She curled up on the couch.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" Sherlock asked, kneeling by his wife's side. She looked up at him and gave him a look. Sherlock felt very stupid when he realised what was wrong with Alex and that it had taken him this long to deduce it. "Oh...you're on your monthly cycle." 

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner." Alex said sarcastically. "Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that." 

"It's okay. I know that you're going through mood swings, cravings, and cram-" Sherlock started. Alex pressed her finger to Sherlock's lips.

"Honey, I know how this works." Alex said. "I've been doing it since I was eleven." 

"That young?" Sherlock said.

"I've dealt with it before. I'll be fine." Alex said. "Just be here."

"Okay." Sherlock said.

"Rusty, come here." Alex called.

Their Irish Setter ran into the room and jumped on Alex's stomach. Alex let out a shout of pain. Rusty curled up on her lap. The warmth of his fur helped Alex's cramps. She pet the dog. Sherlock made a quick call on his phone.

"I've called Lestrade. He will be here in a little while to pick Vanessa up." He said after he hung up. "Rusty, down."

Rusty jumped off Alex's lap. Sherlock crawled onto the couch with Alex. She wrapped her arms around him. She was very emotional at the moments and her cramps were killing her. Sherlock rubbed her back.

"Is it really as bad as other women make it out to be?" He asked. "Molly nearly ripped my head off one time when she was on hers."

"Sherlock, this happens for five days every month for about forty-five years. What you said earlier about it is correct, but don't get me started on the emotional toil it takes out of me. The cramps are like mild labor pains. And society expects us to continue to function like nothing's wrong." Alex said. 

"How come you've never complained before?" Sherlock asked.

"It hasn't been this bad for a long time. I was more athletic while we were on cases, and people who are more athletic don't have them that bad." Alex said. "Now I'm a stay at home mom and I'm not that athletic."

"Wow..." Sherlock said. "Do you need anything?" 

"I just want you to be here." Alex said.

"You're twitching." Sherlock said.

"It's cramps. Of course I'm twitching." Alex said. She held him even tighter. "It hurts, Sherlock!" 

"I know, I know." Sherlock said. Someone knocked on the door. "That's Lestrade. I'll get it."

Sherlock got up and answered the door. Lestrade was standing there, tapping his foot. Sherlock called his daughter out of her room. 

"Why do I have to do this?" Lestrade asked.