Hello peoples! Welcome to the sequel of Him and Her!

I wrote this sequel because I somehow wanted to include Nero in my story, but several people (whose opinion I valued very much, namely LibbyC) only wanted a story between Sherlock and Irene. So, this sequel is a golden oppurtunity for me to finally write some daddy fluff :)

This chapter is only the prologue, hence the shortness. I know that I started the sequel very directly, there isn't really an intro, but please bear with me. Oh, and sorry if Sherlock is rather cold and cruel in this chapter, it's going to get better, I promise!

Enjoy xx





It wasn't an emotion Irene Adler felt often.

And it certainly wasn't an emotion she liked.

But right now, as she sat on the doctor's chair, she had to admit that she was scared.

Her hand dropped absentmindedly to her stomach, cradling the baby.

Her little child.

This was one of her endless doctor check-ups she insisted on going to. She wanted to make sure that her child was healthy.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and trying to calm down. Today was the day she was going to tell Sherlock that she was pregnant with his child.

Easier said than done.

She had realised she was pregnant about 4 and a half months ago, shortly after she had visited Sherlock in London. But she had refused to tell him.

At first she told herself that she would make sure that the baby was healthy and then tell him, but it was clear after the first 5 doctor appointments that she lacked the courage to do it. She knew that Sherlock didn't want a child.

But this morning she had made up her mind to finally tell him the news. He was the father, if only in the biological sense, and he deserved to know. Irene knew that she would be hurt if Sherlock wouldn't want anything to do with the baby, but she would understand. She could raise the child on her own if she had to.

Telling Sherlock would be very difficult though. Irene had gone through possible conversations a thousand times in her head, but each time she gave up. Sherlock was simply unpredictable.

She knew that he would be very angry that she had kept it from him. She was about five months along, and he had no idea.

She sighed again but pasted a smile on her face when the doctor entered.

She may have been scared, but she would never ever let anyone see it.




She didn't think that she had ever had a harder moment in her life when she pressed the call button on Skype.

Waiting as the phone rang.

She may have been terrified, but she still smiled when she saw Sherlock's face on the screen. The blue green eyes, the high cheek bones, the curly black hair and the smile reserved especially for her.

He sounded cheerful as he talked, a smooth mask in place, and yet still allowing emotion to filter through.

He had no idea she was about to drop a bombshell.

"I'm pregnant" she said, not caring if she was interrupting his speech or not. In truth, she hadn't really been listening. "Yours, obviously." She added, in case he should suspect anything different.

His voice cut off from anything he might have been saying, his eyes widened, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and his mouth opened slightly. For one second, he seemed unable to move, or speak; unable to exhibit any sort of reaction. She could almost see his brain come to a standstill.

She bit her lip, but kept her face blank, not wanting him to see any fear or uncertainty there. She disappeared behind the mask that had been Irene Adler, the cold, smooth professional one. The mask made it easier for both of them.

"Ah" he said after a while, and although he didn't look shaken at all, she could practically hear the gears in his brain working, trying to figure everything out, the timing, the sheer possibility of it all.

"Almost five months, yes?" he questioned, having figured it out almost immediately. She squinted slightly, trying to see a hint of betrayal or anger in his eyes through the webcam.

"Yes." She admitted, finding none.

"I assume you have your own reasons to only tell me about this now." He said, and slowly emotions started making their way into his usually calm and detached voice. Impatience? Anger? Scorn? She couldn't really tell.

Irene took a deep breath. "I was…apprehensive" she began, and saw him raise an eyebrow. His composure was calm, at least on the outside.

"Apprehensive?" he asked, slight sarcasm colouring his tone. In a less serious situation, she would have said he was mocking her.

Oh God, he was going to make her say it.

"Scared" she said, and saw him nod once. But apparently he wasn't just going to leave it there.


She laughed once, shortly and without mirth. What a stupid question. "You already view love as a disadvantage. And now there's even more of that added to a mix, by a child. Our child Sherlock." She closed her eyes briefly. "I didn't think you would have wanted it."

Sherlock stared at her, as if he was analysing her and her thoughts. But he never denied what she had just said.

He simply nodded. "You have been to the Doctor to make sure the child is healthy, I presume?" he asked. Most fathers would have done this with anxiousness colouring their tone, needing to know that their unborn child was healthy. But Sherlock spoke coldly and emotionlessly, rendering Irene right.

He viewed it as an inconvenience.

He didn't want it. She supposed she should stop the sudden feeling of utter disappointment and hurt crashing down on her; after all, this was what she had been preparing herself for, hadn't she? That Sherlock would keep a safe distance, that he would be cold and emotionless, that he wouldn't want the child. But a small part of her, such a small and then seemingly insignificant part of her had just hoped.

She closed her eyes briefly, and if Sherlock noted her present feelings, he didn't say anything.

"Perfectly healthy" she said, and suddenly decided that she wasn't in the mood for this conversation anymore. She had said what needed saying. Right now she just wanted time to think.

"We'll talk later" she added, and for one tiny second she saw something cross Sherlock's face. But she supposed she must have imagined it, because when she looked again, his mask was firmly back in place.

"Yes" he answered, with some sort of devastating finality in his tone, and she pressed the off button. His image disappeared.

She didn't see him open his mouth suddenly, and then close it again when he realised that she had already ended the call.

Sherlock leaned back in his chair and groaned.

The thought of him as a father…

It unnerved him, to say the least.

Pregnant. With his child.

Sherlock closed his eyes. They hadn't seen each other in some time, so he supposed that the only time she could possibly have gotten pregnant was during the time she had been in London.

He took a deep breath and tried to identify the emotions racing through him, the reasons his heartbeat had suddenly sped up, and the reason he suddenly needed to concentrate on breathing. He felt angry, at least a bit, because he had only found out about the baby now. Surely, as the father, Irene should have told him when she first discovered the fact that she was pregnant?

And yet, he understood her initial hesitation and fear. Looking back on his reaction now, he could clearly see why she had refrained from telling him.

But keeping his customary mask in place had simply been so much easier. He hadn't had to think about the emotion he had felt when she announced that she was pregnant, furthermore that the child was his. How was he supposed to react?

She was partially right though. If it had been his choice, then he would not have wanted the child. Why would he? A child (his child) was just another thing that made him weaker, something that made him so much more vulnerable. Giving in to his feelings for Irene had already been hard enough, because he now had his own pressure point, a person he would do anything for, a person that someone could so easily use to target him.

And now there was another.

But the choice hadn't been his, nor had it been Irene's. And that changed the situation, because either of them could pretend that the child didn't exist.

He shook his head. No, it was true that he wouldn't have wanted the child. But now it was a living thing, and he didn't have the choice anymore.

He remembered Irene's expression, the one she had tried so hard to conceal. The disappointment and hurt that had clouded her features only for a second, and yet the time had been ample for him to understand her feelings. He knew that she had expected his reaction, and yet he had still hurt her.

He groaned again, frustration and emotions that he simply did not understand making him uncomfortable and agitated. There was a sort of tickling sensation at the pit of his stomach, and he couldn't identify it. The thought irritated him to no end.

Sherlock was grateful that he was currently alone. If anyone had heard the conversation it would have led to (possibly) unnecessary and tedious questions, and he had absolutely no idea how to answer any of them. The pure thought of imagining himself with a baby made him feel strange. Luckily, John was out with Sarah, and Mrs Hudson had taken the day off to visit her sister.

Good. John might be mad at him for this, but he would understand.

He opened up a new browser on his laptop, typed in a few simple words, scrolled up and down with the mouse. Then he grabbed a piece of paper from the already crowded table and hastily scribbled a note to John and to Mrs Hudson, not bothering explaining any of the smaller details.

Venturing into his bedroom, he grabbed a small suitcase, and sent a quick text to John.

10 minutes later, he was in a taxi heading towards the airport, ready to go on the first flight to New Zealand.




Hope you liked it! Please review and tell me what you think, your feedback really means a lot :) Please also, if you have any constructive criticism, things I could improve, or if you think the characters are too OOC then tell me that too.