Baker Street Charterers

In the cold winter of 1886, Watson entered the most painful and painful period of his life, but also the happiest and full of expectation.

That night, Mary woke up from a light sleep with a sharp pain and began her day and night of difficult labor.

As one of Watson's closest old friends, Sherlock Holmes left for the hospital immediately after receiving the news in the early hours of the morning.When he arrived at the hospital, he saw Watson walking around the door anxiously. It was his wife who gave birth, but his face looked worse than that of the mother.

A scream louder than the last from Mary in the delivery room made his eyes go red.Poor doctor, he looks like he's about to cry.

"Oh, Sherlock." Seeing his friend arrived, Watson seemed to grab a life-saving straw, clutching his sleeve tightly, and said almost pleadingly, "God, this feeling is really terrible... …As a doctor, I have never been more afraid of death than I am now.”

"Calm down, my old friend." Holmes comforted others in a rare way. He didn't seem to be affected by the cold and terrifying atmosphere of the hospital at all, and his expression remained calm. "Mary is healthy, and the test results are very normal... no There is death, Watson, and today we welcome only new life."

Although verbal consolation did not bring practical results, Watson seemed to feel much better. His trembling hands finally calmed down, and he took a deep breath, "Yes... yes, that's right, new student... Mary, and our children, they will be fine, and the three of us will go to your wedding with Nora, right?"

Holmes smiled. "Yes, Watson. We shall have a lovely little maid of honor, or best man."

Watson let out a breath and leaned himself against the cold wall, as if he could slow down the burning in his heart.He listened silently to his wife crying and crying behind a wall, his eyes were red, he covered his face, his voice became hoarse and indistinct, "Oh God, please bless her, please bless Mary, bless my child...I am willing to do anything To exchange, as long as they are safe—"

Sherlock Holmes looked at the painful face of his old friend. He seemed to have thought of something, and his eyes became far and deep.Until the voice in the back of the room gradually faded away, Watson suddenly jumped up with panic and fear on his face, "Why is there no sound, Sherlock, Mary—"

Holmes suddenly came back to his senses. He pressed his old friend's shoulders to signal him to be calm, then turned his head to look at the door, and said slowly, "Of course it's because... everything is over."

Watson was taken aback for a moment, and the door was opened, and the doctor with blood on his sleeve came out, nodded to them, and said, "Mother and daughter are safe, gentlemen."

Before Holmes could respond, Watson suddenly collapsed as if his whole body had been crushed. Weeping with joy, he kept muttering, "Peace, peace... Great, great Sherlock..."

Holmes smiled slightly, "Congratulations, Watson, you have a lovely little girl."

The smile on Watson's face couldn't be suppressed at all, the corners of his mouth almost went behind his ears, he couldn't help but heaved a sigh of relief, and laughed, "Yes, little girl, my daughter... Oh God, This is simply the happiest moment in my life, I have everything! Sherlock, thank you very much! I think you may not be able to understand my feelings now, but... one day such a moment will come, pain, anxiety, Fear, joy, heartache, joy... These are all the meanings Mary gave me, and I believe you will understand soon."

"I hope so." Holmes replied softly, and then looked into the room where the baby was crying, with a sincere smile overflowing from his eyes. "And now, all your meaning lies in this room, Doctor. I believe that Mary and the sweet little girl need you more than I do right now."

Watson immediately ran into the room happily.

Holmes leaned against the door, looking at the warm smiles on the faces of the family of three, so similar, the joy that overflowed from the bottom of his heart had the power to move anyone.He watched alone and silently, and his eyes slowly moved to Xiaotuanzi wrapped in white cloth.

So small... he thought.And it's dirty, and so noisy... It doesn't look as white and cute as I imagined.

Would his and Nora's child look like this too?

Sherlock Holmes looked straight at him again, and realized... In fact, this small, squishy guy still looks very interesting...

The next day, Watson invited Holmes to their home for dinner.As a mother, Mary enjoyed a 360-degree intimate care from her husband, lying on the bed and playing with her dear baby.Poor Watson, a successful middle-class gentleman, is now obliged to whirl in the kitchen, sweating profusely in order to prepare an edible meal.

Sherlock Holmes felt quite novel when he saw this scene, "I think you should hire a maid."

"Miss Shirley just returned home yesterday," said Watson bitterly. "Sherlock, you are said to be very knowledgeable. Have you read any books on recipes?"

Holmes immediately replied mercilessly, "Life is short, we should do something more meaningful. Watson, you have set an excellent example for all British gentlemen, negative."

Watson, "... Sherlock Holmes who can't help but only talks sarcasticly, the place where you should stay is not the kitchen but the living room."

"totally agree."

"Watson—" Mary called softly from the room, "is this a gift from your friend? Oh, it's so beautiful..."

"Gift?" Watson walked out in a daze, and saw Mary walking out of the room admiring a velvet dress with intricate and delicate patterns in water red. If it wasn't for the fact that her figure hadn't fully recovered after giving birth, she would have put it on immediately.Women's instincts cannot be hidden at any moment.

"Honey," Watson looked carefully at the dress, "who gave it?"

Mary froze for a moment, very surprised, "This dress is packed in a red gift box and placed on a shelf in our garden... Isn't it your friend who gave it to me?"

Watson scratched his head, "My friends are all antiques. I have never seen them give a decent gift, let alone such a beautiful dress."

Mary wanted to say something more, but Holmes spoke at this moment.

"Where's the gift box?" he asked.

Mary turned around and entered the room, and after a while, she came out holding a neat cardboard box that looked excellent, and handed it to him, "There is still a letter inside, here... If this is not from your friend, then I just It can be said that... this kind man is really caring."

Holmes lowered his head, only to see two lines of writing on that piece of paper, the handwriting was so familiar that his eyes narrowed.

"To the best mother in the world, Mary Morstan Watson."

"We may not be able to go where we want to go due to illness,"

"But you can summon the whole world to your side."

"Sincerely, fan"

Watson saw that Holmes' original serious expression suddenly became weird and subtle. He couldn't help but leaned over to look at it, puzzled, and asked, "Fans...? What does that mean?"

Sherlock Holmes closed the note slowly, and kept it in his close-fitting pocket with a cautious and cherished attitude, before speaking slowly, "Actually, I don't quite understand, but I guess maybe It means admirer."

"Could it be Moriarty?" Watson suddenly turned pale with shock.

Holmes laughed strangely, "Moriarty? No, no, of course it's not him—"

Watson gave him a suspicious look. "Old friend, what the hell are you doing? I've seen your expression before. It usually happens before a new prank of yours."

Holmes had a toothsome smile on his face and remained silent.

Instead, Mary spoke.

"Nora's letter?" she asked.

How about saying that women have a natural inexplicable feeling towards women?Holmes glanced at her in surprise, touched his chin, and said with a deep expression, "Perhaps."

Watson immediately became angry, "In the eyes of Sherlock Holmes, there has never been such a probability as 'probably' or 'maybe', no wonder your smile is so strange, so you already knew it was a gift from Nora, right? ?!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he suddenly remembered that something was wrong. He immediately reacted and tried to snatch the letter, but was tricked by Holmes, who was far superior to him, and had to shout angrily, "Sherlock! Show me this! But Nora's letter, maybe she's trying to tell us something, let me see—"

Holmes quickly moved away, and replied with a smile of complete elegance, "If she tried to tell us the news, would anyone know her code better than I? Besides, Watson, even if it were true, I am afraid you would not be able to understand it." What exactly is she trying to imply to us?"

Watson, "..."

Mary chuckled happily.Apparently she's no stranger to her husband's deflation, and finds it amused.

"Seriously, Sherlock." Watson had a dejected expression on his face, "What did she say, and is it related to that incident?"

Holmes remained calm, "Since you have said so, there is nothing wrong with telling you."

"Think about it, doctor, who in London can make such an exquisite, beautiful and expensive gown that fits the figure?"

Watson hesitated, "You mean...she's back?"

Holmes was noncommittal, but continued, "Why does she mention 'sickness'? Who is it that can cure it?"

"And what does the last sentence mean?"

Watson, whose IQ was completely insufficient, gave up, "Please tell me clearly, old friend, for the sake of Mary being here."

Holmes smiled.

"Old friend, to put it simply, there is only one sentence."

"'Somebody's turned, the birdie is back, and it's all set.'"

"'wait me back'."