A/N: Guess what. The sequel to The Female Detective is here! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes. All rights belong to Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss and the estate of Arthur Conan Doyle. Only the plot is mine. I like to play with the characters. It's fun.

I pulled myself from my mind palace, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I was pregnant.

"Have you ever seen her like this?" John asked, his tone slightly panicked.

"No, never," Mycroft replied, puzzled.

I blinked twice and looked around the room. John was pacing nervously back and forth across the flat. Mycroft was standing over my protectively, and Lestrade was sitting John's chair.

"Sherlock?" John said, rushing over to me and placing his hand on my shoulders. "Are you okay?"

I swallowed nervously and said, "I'm pregnant."

God, I hated the way that sounded. Vulnerable and needy. It wouldn't have mattered if it was just John, but brother and Lestrade had to be there.

I glanced around the room. John was kneeling in front of me now. He grabbed my hands and squeezed them reassuringly. I glanced up at Mycroft. There was a slightly resigned look on his face. He hadn't been expecting that, but he wasn't really surprised by it either. Lestrade, on the other hand, had a much more interesting reaction. There was a bewildered look on his face. He definitely hadn't been expecting that. Based on his surprise and our history, he had probably thought that I'd finally lost my mind.

John was speaking again, so I looked back at him. "What?" I asked.

"Are you okay? You just kind of...went away."

"I'm fine. I needed to calculate the likelihood that this is actually the cause of my symptoms." Lestrade was still staring at me, or, more accurately, my stomach. It was starting to put me off. "Would you stop it?" I snapped at him.

John had an amused expression on his face, and Mycroft just scowled at me. "I see you did not prepare them," I said to John.

"Wasn't really my place, was it?"

"It's as much your child as it is mine." The man was so frustrating sometimes. However, his expression softened slightly at my words, and my irritation faded a bit. Quite a bit. That was...good.

Mycroft cleared his throat loudly, and I looked up at him, not letting him see that he had startled me. "Gregory, perhaps we should show ourselves out?" he suggested.

"Yes. Get out." He was really starting to get on my nerves, and John was going to want to talk.

I waited until they had closed the door and started walking down the steps to turn my attention back to John. He was still kneeling on the floor in front of me. I squeezed his hands before I let go of them and slid over on the sofa to make room for John.

"Get up before you start hurting," I said. John got to his feet quickly and sat next to me. He draped his arm over my shoulders and pulled me against his side.

After several minutes, John still hadn't spoken. I knew he wanted to talk, and, honestly, I did too. Of course, I wasn't going to say so.

"John?" I said, nudging his ribs with my fingers.

"Hm? What?" Ah, he'd been lost in thought.

"I'm sure you're going to have something to say, so let's just get it over with."

John must have sensed my discomfort because he began to rub my arm soothingly. "We're going to be parents," he finally said.

"Yes."

"As in we're going to have a child."

"Don't state the obvious, John. It doesn't suit you."

He scowled at me. "This isn't exactly what I was expecting today."

"You weren't expecting it? I didn't think this would ever happen. It was far too...unlikely."

"What do you mean?" John sounded genuinely confused.

I sighed. "The likelihood of my being able to conceive has always been low. My menstrual cycle has always been irregular, and my eating habits made it worse. Before you came along, I almost never had a period."

"Still-"

"This is your fault, you know," I said cutting him off.

"Why? Because I had sex with you? You initiate it at least half the time."

"No, you're the one that makes me eat."

John sighed loudly. "You know you're going to have to eat regularly now? And you'll need to start taking a supplement."

I opened my mouth to argue, but John cut me off. "It's not for you. It's for the baby."

My mouth snapped shut. I was now responsible for the life of a child. I began to panic as the next eighteen years stretched out in front of me and our hazardous lifestyled and all the things that could possibly go wrong began to assail me. All those enemies I had made would pose a threat to my child, John's child. And that wasn't even including all the ways that I could fail personally.

"John," I choked, sounding nothing like myself. "Are you sure about this?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Do-do you want to get rid of it?"

The idea repelled me. Why would I want to get rid of something that was half John. My wonderful John. "No!" I exclaimed as I realized that I hadn't spoken. "I just-I don't know if I'm ready."

"Hey," he said soothingly. "It's okay. People do this every day. Hell, even Anderson has kids."

The last bit suddenly made me feel much better. Of course, John knew it would. I calmed down a bit.

"And anyway," John continued, "our child will be one of the safest kids there is. A doctor and a consulting detective for parents, a landlady that used to be involved in a drug cartel, and a police inspector and the British government for uncles. Don't worry. Our kid will be fine."

I relaxed against John. I still wasn't completely sure, but I was beginning to feel better about it. And anyway, John would always be there to help.