The scuffling sounds against the back of the house was what woke Irene Adler up, the Woman having had a night off, using it for beauty treatments, drinking wine, and reading Colette. She sat up immediately, getting out the gun in her bedside table.
"Who's there" she called out, quick to throw on her robe as she went down the back stairs, seeing the most comical sight to date. It was a pair of legs sticking out of her garbage can outside, frantically kicking the side of the house to be let out. The legs themselves were long and definitely belonging to a woman, Irene stepping outside, turning the garbage can over. Vivienne tumbled out, garbage covering her hair, a used tampon sticking out of her curls, an orange peel on her shirt, everywhere.
"Well well, looks like I caught a stray cat." Irene mused, putting her gun down as she examined the younger girl. Vivienne burned under her gaze, feeling gross, dirty for being caught rooting through garbage cans. She hadn't bathed in three weeks, she was wearing the same clothes for one month, and she was hungry. And here was this incredibly beautiful woman with cold cream on her face staring at her.
"I-I-I'm sorry." Vivienne stammered. "I won't do it again." Irene crossed her arms, studying the teen. Something was odd about this girl but she decided to let it go.
"Well if you're really that hungry, I'll let you eat something in the house." She said, turning around. Vivienne visibly relaxed, for once just happy to see someone treat her with some degree of kindness. As Vivienne sat down at the kitchen table, Irene turned around, her hand on Vivienne's shoulder.
"Thank you, Ms-"
"Adler. Irene Adler. And there's no need to thank me." As Irene spoke, Vivienne felt a jab into her arm, a needle. She gripped the spot, seeing that Irene had taken out a syringe. Vivienne looked up, not comprehending. "Ma'am, I-" Irene put a finger to her lips.
"Shhh, it's okay. Sorry sweetheart, but I have too many enemies." Irene said, holding Vivienne under her armpits as the younger woman slumped down to the ground.
"Ready?" Vivienne asked Hamish, the ten year old currently throwing his backpack in the seat behind him. She lowered the music in the car, seeing that Hamish had dark circles under his eyes. "Sweetheart, did you sleep last night?" She asked as he went into the front seat, Sherlock and John having asked her to pick him up from school, also picking up Greg from work at the same time. Hamish took a slip of paper of his pocket, giving it to his aunt.
"They wrote me up for sleeping." Hamish murmured as Vivienne saw Hamish's teacher come over, Vivienne groaning at the sight of the woman.
"Stay in the car Hal." She said, getting out to face Deborah Lestrade, the woman who was Hamish's teacher.
"Deborah, I've heard Hamish was sleeping in class today." Vivienne said lightly, trying to keep it light with a woman who hated her.
"Holmes" Vivienne corrected. Deborah gave a small smile, as if she knew Vivienne would say that.
"Well I hope you speak to your brother about it." She said, her gaze going down to Vivienne's stomach, the slight bump there only visible because she chose to wear a wrap dress today, clinging to her form.
"I'm sorry he's not here. On a case you know." She pointed out, Deborah shrugging.
"I've noticed that, a lot." Deborah added. Vivienne gave her a sideways glance. Deborah glared at her, looking down at her stomach. "You know, Gregory never wanted a baby when we were married." Vivienne only shrugged her shoulders. Deborah glanced at the younger woman. "But with you, it seems a lot of things changed."
"Well people change, priorities change." Vivienne noted, wanting to make this quick, wishing she had put on her (Greg's) jacket. But that would piss off Deborah even more. "It's too bad. The girls miss you at the school." Liar. Deborah smiled at the younger woman.
"Well, like you said dear girl, times change." Deborah noted, taking out a cigarette, Vivienne wrinkling her nose at it.
"Well, we better be going. We've got to get things for dinner and pick up Greg from work." Vivienne said, quickly getting into the car. As she drove away, she could see Deborah staring her down through the rearview window.
"So Hal, do you want to explain why you aren't sleeping?" Vivienne asked as they went into London traffic. Hamish only folded his arms, looking out the window, making his aunt sigh. "I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong." Hamish only looked over at her.
"Aunt Vi, do you have strange dreams?" Vivienne gripped the wheel of the car as she turned.
"Sometimes. I'll share with you if you share with me." She said, echoing their old game from when Hamish was a toddler. Hamish shifted in his seat, still not meeting her eyes.
"There's a man who comes to my room at night. At least, in my dream. He tells me really bad things, like how Da and Father are bad people." Hamish said, wringing his hands, Vivienne trying to keep her breath focused.
"Oh? And what kind of bad things does he say?" She asked. Hamish shifted in his seat as Vivienne drove the car into the market's parking lot.
"He says that I see my Mum every day and that she's a….." Hamish swallowed, Vivienne's knuckles white on the steering wheel.
"Go on Hamish." She encouraged.
"A Cunt." Hamish said quietly. Vivienne parked the car quietly, her hands shaking as she backed the car.
"Hamish, that sounds terrible." She said silently. "I'm sure your birth mother would be crushed to hear you say that." She stepped out of the car, Hamish following her. The busy market was filled with people on this Friday afternoon, Vivienne stopping at the fish stand.
"Do you want to talk to your fathers about this?" Vivienne asked. Hamish shook his head.
"No, I don't think that would be fair." Hamish noted as his aunt reached over to give the little boy a hug. She held Hamish against her chest, trying to collect herself. God, her worst fear might be coming true. She could only hope that Hamish thought it was just a dream.
"Hamish, I want you to know something. Your birth mother loved her very much. She loved you so much that she wanted you to have the best Dads in the world." Vivienne said gently. Hamish considered for a moment.
"I wish you were my mom." Hamish admitted. "I always thought that she was a lot like you." He said, looking up at his aunt. Vivienne shrugged, picking up a fish. "Salmon?" She asked, hoping to change the subject. Hamish smiled a little.
"I'd like that." He answered, Vivienne quick to pay to have it wrapped up, putting the fish into her shopping bag.
"Good then. Let's pick out something to accent it." Vivienne lifted her voice in a false posh accent, making her nephew laugh, stepping around to another stand. As Vivienne went to pick out bread, Vivienne looked up for a moment, breathless at what she saw, a tall blond man about two hundred feet away, picking out some fruits, toned in a perfectly pressed suit. "Hamish, come here." She said, pulling the boy over to her.
"Aunt Vi, what's wrong?" Hamish asked. As Hamish was talking, the man had walked away, eating an apple.
"Nothing, Just….Do you think this bread?" She asked, showing him something. Hamish nodded, watching Vivienne paying for the food.
"Do you think Greg will come out on time?" Vivienne asked about thirty minutes later, waiting in the parking lot of Scotland Yard.
"Never." Hamish answered, working on his math homework in the back, enjoying a smoothie Vivienne bought him. "Aunt Vi, I should have got the peach mango."
"I warned you Pear wouldn't be a good choice." Vivienne countered, taking the time to grade one of her papers, sipping her own peach smoothie, a Strawberry waiting in the other cup holder for her husband. As they talked it was beginning to rain heavily, Hamish and Vivienne both watching it silently. As they watched, Greg was coming out of the building, covering himself against the rain as he ran to the warm car.
"A little wet?" Vivienne teased to her soaking wet husband, the older man settling into the car, throwing his wet coat in the back with Hamish.
"A little." He admitted, reaching over to kiss her, Vivienne gently kissing him as well, her fingers in his hair.
"Aunt Vi, Eww!" Hamish exclaimed in the back. Greg reaching over to poke Hamish, breaking away to speak to his nephew, Hamish wrinkling his nose at the little bit of water that flecked his way.
"Had a good day at school, Hal?" He asked. Hamish shrugged while Vivienne backed the car out.
"It was okay. Got in trouble for sleeping in class." He answered.
"Your nephew here is up all night dreaming of his girlfriends." Vivienne teased, exchanging a look in the rearview mirror with the little boy, Greg turning up the radio as she drove, The Clash playing as Greg wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders.
"Hamish is beginning to ask questions." Vivienne said hours later. She came out of the shower wrapped in a large fluffy towel, Greg on the bed watching TV.
"What kind of questions?" Greg asked, Top Gear's newest episode playing as Vivienne sat down next to him, her body damp against his.
"He's asking about his mum and I don't really know what to tell him." She said, Greg and Vivienne having seen Hamish go home to his father just an hour ago, the three of them having eaten dinner together.
"Don't tell him anything. Don't dig up the past." Greg said evenly, wrapping an arm around her waist, his hand going on her gently rounded stomach. "I know it's hard for you. But I think it's better to leave the revelation to Sherlock and John." Vivienne smiled, loving how he always managed to ground her in some way, resting her head on his shoulder as cars were speeding by the screen.
"He said he's been dreaming of a man who's telling him these things. But he won't tell Sherlock or John." She said, Greg looking down at her.
"It must be something he watched on TV. Don't worry yourself about it." Greg said, stroking her damp hair, taking in the clean scent of his wife just out of the shower, smiling a little at having his wife there with him, the whole weekend cleared for both of them. And this almost never happened that they had the weekends free together. "So, what do you want to do this weekend?" He asked, Vivienne getting up to put on her pajamas.
"Oh, I don't know. We can check out a movie, maybe go get coffee." She said, turning to him playfully, just in a pair of his boxers, Greg looking over to see her topless. Oh god, he loved her breasts, the orbs he loved to fondle getting bigger everyday with pregnancy, the nipples dark. "All I know is tomorrow we should sleep in and forget the world." She said, crawling back on the bed to kiss her husband, Greg turning to her to deepen the kiss, his hands reaching to cup her breasts, taking in their comfortable weight as she straddled his lap. The two of them kissed passionately, Greg rubbing his rough thumbs lightly over her nipples. Vivienne moaned in pleasure, her hair spilling over him as she caressed his face, admiring the small amount of stubble on his face.
"Darling, you would look so sexy if you just grew a beard." Vivienne whispered, unbuttoning his shirt. He shook his head, helping her take off his shirt, throwing it to the floor.
"You know everyone would make fun of me." He answered. "Think of what Sherlock would say about it." He said, moving her so they were both lying on their sides facing each other, Greg's trousers getting kicked off.
"Who cares what they think? You're going to be a father soon. Why not?" She groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he reached over to kiss her neck, taking in the faint scent of lilacs on her, the scent he bought as part of his wedding present to her. It was the little things he liked about being married to this beautiful woman, which she seemed to read his mind about what he loved.
"I already get shit for being married to you." He groaned, pulling her closer to him, Vivienne curling up into his chest. Both of them got it from their families, about being married with a 13 year age difference. Violet Holmes used to be the worst about it, saying that Vivienne was throwing her life away to be a Di's wife, Sally and Anderson joking about how Lestrade's wife had to be home in time for curfew.
"When did you ever worry about what people thought? We're happy together, about to have a child, what more could we ask for?" She kissed his forehead, rubbing the back of his head where he liked it. He smiled a little, pulling her in as close as he could.
"Yea? Who cares?" He said, playfully nipping his teeth at her nose. Vivienne giggled at him, Greg smiling as he got up to take a shower himself. As he showered, Vivienne got under the sheets, electing to read a book while the shower steam filled the bathroom, Greg humming peacefully as he washed himself up.
He came out a few minutes later, the steam filling the master bathroom as he dried himself off as he threw on a pair of boxer shorts, coming back into the bedroom. Vivienne was by then immersed into her book as Greg came back into bed, turning off the TV as Vivienne put her book down, rolling over to face him. "I think I like seeing you like this." Greg noted as he stroked her hair, Vivienne caressing his face.
"Like what?" She asked, letting Greg roll her on her back, resting his head on her shoulder.
"In these months, I didn't think I could be any happier. But now that we're having a child, together, I just didn't think I could be any happier." He noted, resting her head against her breasts. She nodded, stroking his hair.
"Your fascination with my breasts is almost fruedian." She whispered, kissing the top of his head as she was falling asleep, Greg by then already dozing off.
"No, they're just mine." Greg slurred, drifting off to sleep, Vivienne joining him a minute later.
"Kate! Kate!" Irene called, soaking in the bath tub. The opulent bathroom was done up all in black and silver, matching Irene as sixteen year old Vivienne came up the stairs, holding up a tray.
"Ms. Adler, that's not my name." Vivienne whispered, setting the tray down on a small table.
"Oh sorry, my last assistant was named Kate." Irene's smooth voice washed over the room as Vivienne held up a bath sheet, Irene stepping out of the tub. In the four months since Vivienne had been caught, Irene took her as an assistant, mostly out of pity, mostly because it didn't take ten seconds of seeing the girl showered and in decent clothes to gather who her family was. And Irene couldn't not keep her around, especially with those cheekbones of hers. "And Kate, remember you'll have to lay out my party attire." Irene noted as Vivienne wrapped her in the bath sheet.
And overall life was good for Vivienne. She was given a small guest room, some of Irene's old clothes, and three meals a day. And that's all she could really ask for, right? She was happy at times, content more the better term.
"Ms. Adler, which corset will you be wearing?" Vivienne asked, opening up Irene's closet.
"The red one. And do be careful with it. Two of my most important clients are coming to the party." Irene noted as Vivienne towel-dried her hair.
"Who is it?" Vivienne asked, genuinely curious. Even if she was Irene's new assistant, she knew never little about Irene's profession. Sure she dealt with the tools but seeing her in action was what Vivienne wanted to see.
"It's whom darling. And these two men are very important. I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight." Irene said as Vivienne passed her the body lotion she pointed to.
"I get to come to the party?" Vivienne said, her voice lifting in expectation.
"Of course dear. Who else is going to pour drinks? Now, my moisturizer." She said, Vivienne speeding up.