Don't Stray From The Light

The Guilty Party

"Is it a boy or a girl? Your baby?" Sherlock questioned, looking down towards the now very obvious protrusion from Mary's stomach. To be honest baby bumps (well everything about babies in their early stages, even conception) scared Sherlock beyond belief. To think that a woman was sitting here now all while making a baby in her internal organs, a living breathing human being, well how disgustingly fascinating was that? Sherlock blessed the stars that he wasn't a born woman, for not only would delivering a baby prove to be the most painful thing in the existence of the world, but with his taste in entertainment he would certainly be stuck having to do it quite often. Besides, being a heterosexual female wasn't nearly as fun as being a homosexual male, of that Sherlock was quite certain.
"We're not sure. I want it to be a girl, but John really wants a son." Mary admitted with a sigh.
"Any names picked out?" Sherlock wondered politely.
"I like the name Rosamunde; however John is quite favorable to Hamish." Mary muttered, looking almost disgusted with the name as she patted her stomach, so as to ensure the little monster that was brewing in there that they would not be something as absurd as Hamish.
"Hamish?" Sherlock asked with a laugh, feeling it almost necessary to laugh at such a ridiculous name.
"It's his middle name." Mary explained with a little shrug. Sherlock quieted himself immediately, for obviously it might be considered offensive if he chuckle so much at such a name, however as soon as he forced that smile off of his face Mary took it upon herself to giggle as well. "Don't worry, we all find it stupid. John's just out to curse his son is all."
"He'll make a fine father, even to a son burdened with such a name." Sherlock assured with a grin.
"Well your first name is curious, isn't it? Something I've never heard before I believe?" Mary clarified.
"William." Sherlock admitted with a sigh. Mary's look of confusion was evident, and it was then that Sherlock cracked his joking little smile. "But the name I use is my middle name, Sherlock."
"Why on earth would you pick that?" Mary asked with a laugh, although she seemed impressed with Sherlock's daring all the same.
"I picked it because it was unique, like me. My brother's name was Mycroft, and so being named something as common as William was as taxing in my household as having a name so uncommon was in the real world." Sherlock admitted with a sigh. Mary nodded, looking towards Sherlock's peculiar sunglasses as well, as if deciding he sported such a fashion for the same reason he chose his name.
"You're an interesting man, Mr. Holmes." She decided finally.
"And you are an interesting woman, married to an equally interesting man." Sherlock agreed with a nod.
"Oh John's not very interesting at all. You should try to hold a conversation with him; it's like trying to chat with an unbuttered piece of toast. It's impossibly boring." Mary admitted with a grin. Sherlock couldn't help but burst out into laughter, for while he knew that it would be considered rude to agree it was impossible to try to disregard.
"Well from what I've known of him he's not too terribly dry, however with your experience, by now at least, you might have run out of interesting things to say." Sherlock decided with a grin.
"Indeed we have. We say good morning and good night, but not much in between." Mary admitted with a sigh. Sherlock nodded, leaning forward on the table and pushing his newspaper aside. He studied her once more, as she was thinking about her drifting apart from John, and he detected a note of unadmitted sadness in her eyes. She might not even realize it was there, and God help her if she knew that other people could notice it as well! However it was there, obvious even, for a trained eye. And Sherlock grew sad as well, for her sake at least, for he knew that while Mary suspected her husband of drifting apart it was evident that she did not know to what lengths it extended to. Little did she know that she was discussing such things with the very man that would soon be the very thing that pried the happy couple apart.
"Oh look at me, coming complaining to you! My apologies Mr. Holmes, and on that note I really must be going. Shopping awaits." Mary admitted with a sigh, scrambling to her feet almost as if she was ashamed of having admitted such things to what was undeniably a complete stranger. Sherlock rose to his feet as well, for it was only proper, and he looked down upon the woman with a mere spark of shame. She had turned out to be nice, pleasant even, a wife that proved to be his enemy but a wife all the same. A caring woman evidently, with the makings of being not only a good wife but a good mother as well.
"In your condition would it not be best if I went along? I would not want you carrying heavy bags around, least it threaten your plus one." Sherlock offered quickly, attempting to be some sort of gentleman while he still had the opportunity.
"The offer is lovely, Mr. Holmes, and I do thank you for being so precautionary. But I'm shopping for thread to match one of John's shirts; and it really isn't the burdensome." Mary admitted with a grin.
"Oh what has he gotten into this time?" Sherlock wondered with a little laugh.
"Last night he made an arrest, and when he grabbed the criminal to restrain him, the man ripped at his shirt and pulled most all the buttons off! Never careful with nice things, I need to teach him not to wear his dress shirts to go wrestle around with the lesser of this city." Mary grumbled with a disappointed shake of her head. A shiver of guilt went down Sherlock's spine, for while Mary was shaking her head with some comical appreciation he did recall himself pulling John's shirt off of his very chest. Those buttons that she was looking to replace were all probably scattered about his sitting room right now, casualties of the messy effort he had made to reveal more skin on the man that was so plentifully enjoying his own. Suddenly Sherlock saw it necessary to end the conversation, for his cheeks were beginning to heat up in shame as he realized just how oblivious this woman was to any of the operations that were going on right under her nose, between her husband and the man she now thought to be a gentleman!
"I then bid you good morning, Mrs. Watson, for my day must begin at some time as well. It was a pleasure meeting you." Sherlock said with a grin.
"A pleasure meeting you as well, Mr. Holmes. It's nice to know that you have my husband's best intentions in mind as much as I." Mary said with a grin.
"Always Mrs. Watson, always." Sherlock assured, and with a tip of his hat he was on his way, collecting his things from the table and leaving his due amount in their place. He started off down the sidewalk without so much as a word, leaving with something of an extra weight hanging over his head in guilt, for he knew that whatever pressure he had relieved off of that worried woman's back was now instead his own load to carry. Relief for guilt, it was a nasty trade off, one that he would most likely be suffering for the many long weeks ahead.