Vomiting was not part of your monthly agenda.
You had disappeared to the bathroom to be sick for the third time today, covering your mouth and running before you had the chance to be sick all over the lovely clean carpet that Mrs Hudson just finished cleaning.
There could only be two possibilities as to why you were vomiting so much; one, mother nature was deciding to be a bitch as per usual. Or two, you were pregnant.
And you were hoping it was the first option.
Not that you wouldn't be happy that you were pregnant, with Sherlock's child of all things.
You just didn't feel like you were ready to bring a child into this world, you weren't even sure if Sherlock even wanted to bring a child into this strange yet wonderful world.
You weren't sure if Sherlock even liked children for that matter.
You threw your head into the toilet allowing whatever you had for breakfast this morning return.
You were thankful that your hair was in a loose bun.
"(Y/N)? Are you okay?" John asked, standing my the bathroom door.
You sucked in a wary and painful breath before looking up at him. You gave him the best smile you got muster.
"Great, never better." You sarcastically replied before being sick again.
John knelt down beside you and placed his hand on your back, soothingly rubbing it as you finished, your hand shaking as you reached up to flush away the remains.
"Let me give you a check up and make sure it's nothing serious, and if it is I'll take you straight to the hospital okay?"
You nod. With a little assistance John helps to your feet and guides you to the living room where you had left Sherlock sitting in his chair, gazing into space playing with his violin.
You ease down onto the couch and allowed John to check you over, answering any questions he needed answers to.
"Are you on your period at all?" He asked, taking your pulse.
You opened and closed your mouth, ineffectively creating words.
"I-I'm late, I haven't had it for a while."
John frowned at you. "How long is a while?"
You shrug. "I-I don't know, I just brushed it off. I thought it was nothing."
"She's pregnant." Sherlock imputed.
Your heart stuck in your throat as you stared at the detective you loved so much.
You wanted him to be wrong, but you also wanted him to be right.
"I'll be right back." John muttered before escaping the room.
There was a brief silence, one that cut like knives and left you feeling hopeless. You didn't know what to say or how to ask what brought him to the assumption.
You played with the sleeves of your cream cardigan. You didn't notice that Sherlock had moved from his chair and had manoeuvred his way over to you. It wasn't until he sat down next to you and draped an arm around your shoulder that you looked at him.
"Wh-What brought you to the assumption that I was pregnant?" You asked.
You held your breath as you awaited the detective's deduction. His eyes dashed between yours.
"Well, obviously you being late was one obvious statement. The fact that you're not eating certain things that you would usual eat because you claim that they don't smell or taste pleasant. You've also subconsciously held onto your stomach, although I don't think you've been fully aware of your actions and you're more tired than usual."
You nod, although those were normal signs of pregnancy you weren't sure if you believed it or not.
"And what if I was pregnant Sherlock? It would obviously be yours, what would-"
He smiled at you. "I wouldn't leave if that's what your asking. I wouldn't dream of leaving you, (Y/N). Of course I would feel a little shocked, but I want to make it work. I don't care if it's sudden or anything like that, but I promise I won't leave no matter how difficult it may seem."
Your smile grew larger and you couldn't stop yourself from lay a sweet kiss on his sweet lips.
"I love you so much, Sherlock." You whisper against his lips.
He chuckled. "I love you too."
- - - -
John returned with a pregnancy test, ranting about how he got strange looks from the cashier woman, like it wasn't normal for a man to buy a woman a test.
Now you sat impatiently, waiting to hear the small beep of the timer that allowed you to know the answer you oh so desperately wanted to know.
You chewed on the skin around your thumb, Sherlock sat on his chair with his fingers tapping along the arm while John made tea for the three of you.
The sudden sound of a beep caused you to jump. You nervously stared at the test on the table. You slowly rose from your seat, taking the test in hand.
Your hands were shaking with nerves as your stared at the answer presented before you.
"What does it say?" John asked with a warm mug of tea in his hand.
"It's positive." You whispered. A smile spread across your lips as your returned your eyes to the pair. "It's positive!"
A smile appeared on Sherlock's face as he jumped up from his seat. He raced over to you.
He picked you up and spun you in the air, laughing happily. "I can't believe I'm going to be a father!"
You could hear John laugh in the distance as your looked down into Sherlock's shimmering ocean eyes.
"Alright be careful Sherlock! Don't want to harm the baby!" He called.
He gently set you down and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your waist.
"I'm going to spoil them rotten." He muttered. He kissed your lips sweetly, his hands travelling your stomach and he lay them to rest there.
"You can't take them to a crime scene though." You joked.
"But-" He pouted his lips.
"No buts Sherlock."