Abby stared out at the mansion Spencer's family called a cottage, eyes wide and insides confused. In just a few short months she'd gone from a bad-ass criminal tattooist with her own shop to a stay-at-home mum with a dominatrix boyfriend. Now she was meeting the family, and she'd never been the sort to meet anyone's family. Bran had forced her straight hair into some ridiculous wavy style that made her look stupidly soft (where had he even gotten a curling iron?) and dressed her in clean jeans and a plaid button-up shirt with a stupid looking heart pendant peeking out. She felt silly and weird. She looked like a bloody mum, that's for true.
"I feel weird," Abby complained to Spencer.
"You look lovely," Spencer said, pulling Liam from the car seat. They'd bought a car seat. "Your hair, it looks- " He smiled as the sleepy boy's head rested on his shoulder. "It looks good. Brandon's had a lot of odd jobs. We all have really."
He closed the door, nodding to the house. Seb's car was parked out front.
"Looks like they've fixed up the front yard again. Father had it dug up at one point. Mum had hidden all sorts of cherub sculptures. I think half of them got rigged with bombs," Spencer laughed. "Trust me, a baby will do them good. Oh, and the steps are gone.."
The stairs had been replaced with a cement slope.
"Ah, for your mum, then?" Abby asked, taking the baby from him so she could cuddle it. "I wonder how she's takin' it."
"Yeah, not well," Spencer said. "She's always been like.. a bird. Flying off at the drop of a hat. It's why it's so important for my dads and her lovers to make peace in this place. Her health's going. Liam really brightened her up though. New life, new potential."
He opened the front door- again like most things - completely open. As if anyone would make an attempt with the sheer amount of guns hidden inside the deceptively charming home. "Stay in the foyer while I figure out where Dad - erm, John, is. He's the one we're here to surprise."
"I don't trust the way she's bouncing around the window. She's never so excited-" John's voice could be heard from the sitting room. He was relaxed in his old chair with a closed book on his knee.
"I know something you don't know," Mary sang back.
"And just what is that, Mummy?" Spencer teased, poking his head into the room.
"Spencer!" Sherlock said from his chair across from John's.
"Ah, my darling child promised me a visit, that's what," Mary grinned, eyes glimmering with mischief.
"Spencer," John said, standing to embrace his son. "Since when do you love your mum more than your old dad? You never come to see us unless she asks."
Spencer kissed his dad on the cheek. "Since Mum comes to London to see me once in awhile," he said, patting John on the shoulder. "Hello, Father. Besides, Mum's not the only one with surprises."
"Oh?" John asked, suspicious expression in his eyes that was usually reserved for Sherlock. "What sort of surprises have you brought today? You've not gone and contracted something, or gotten arrested, have you?"
"Not today, my dear Dad," he said, grinning. "It's just, I've had this girlfriend for awhile, and well, things have gotten slightly more serious. Abby?"
Sherlock took off his reading glasses, setting aside his tablet. "The criminal?"
"If you could please just refrain from saying that particular word in reference to," Mary murmured, watching Abby bashfully bring the little boy in. Mary reached out her arms. "May I?"
"Is that, um, her younger brother?" John asked, eyes wide.
"Maumum," Liam said sleepily.
"No, Dad, that's her son, Liam," Spencer said, beaming at her. He moved over to help Liam into Mary's lap. "That's a good lad." He brushed his straight hair down. Mary nuzzled the soft thing, cuddling her new best friend.
"Mary?" Sherlock asked, head tilted suspiciously.
"Hush," Spencer hissed quietly. He took Abby by the arm. "Dad, this is Abby. My girlfriend."
"It's nice to meetcha, Mr. Holmes," Abby said, blushing, looking down at her sneakers.
"Isn't she charming?" Mary hummed gently, beaming. Truthfully, if it hadn't been for Liam, she would've probably had the girl murdered.
Spencer beamed proudly, looking from Abby to John, before leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. "We took in little Liam after Mum got him back from the - well, the story's not mine to tell, but we've taken him in," he said.
Sherlock abandoned his chair, instantly drawn to the most truly interesting thing in the room - the baby.
"But you're hardly even twenty years old," John objected breathlessly, the stunned feeling in his chest making it difficult to speak.
"You went to war at my age," Spencer said, eyes narrowed and an unhappy frown pulling down at the corners of his mouth. "A girlfriend and a baby is hardly going to kill me."
"Statistically," Sherlock said, waggling his fingers at Liam.
"Da!" Spencer shot off. "Besides, Bran is there, too, to help out, and we're making it. I thought you and Father would be happy that I've found something important to me."
"I could- I could wait outside," Abby suggested, feeling a bit like she should escape.
"No, no, it's um, fine. I'll make some tea, shall I?" John said tensely, heading for the kitchen. Mary giggled.
"He always makes tea when he's upset. He'll come back in a very good mood," Mary promised Abby.
"He's English," Spencer said, patting her softly. "Unlike my own flesh and blood-"
"Hello, little experiment," Sherlock said to Liam. The boy's large green-hazel eyes were watching the new stranger. Liam was drooling over two fingers again, shy. He was pressed close to Mary.
"Aba?" Liam said, wrapping wet fingers in Mary's shirt.
"I'm just here, sweethear'. This is Spencer's da, Mr. Holmes," Abby said, edging closer to the little grouping.
"Liam and I have become best of friends," Mary said, patting the little thing gently. "He is a world expert on Batman and the color green. I taught him that."
"You would," Sherlock laughed. "Sherlock Holmes," he said, holding out his hand to shake.
Liam looked at Mary like he was certain Sherlock was more bananas than 'Bananadon'.
Spencer laughed. "I'm going to help Dad with the tea a sec. Make sure he doesn't teach him anything destructive. Alright, love?"
"Destructive?" Abby asked, bewildered. Mary laughed.
"He's only two. Bombs are a lesson saved until they're at least five or six when they've got better motor control," Mary said. She grinned down at Liam. "Boom?"
Liam's eyes lit up. "Boomboom!!" he squealed happily, followed by explosion noises and waving of hands.
Spencer backed away from the little group as Sherlock was murmuring things to the boy, showing him interesting things and having him show off what he did know. Spencer began to hear the story of "Batman girl" who'd come to rescue him and headed into the kitchen.
"Dad?" Spencer said.
"Yes? I'm um, just, how does she take her tea? Jail time or no? I mean, cream or sugar?" John asked sarcastically, arranging china on a tray.
"Just sugar's fine," Spencer said with equal snark. "With a side of ASBO. Seriously, Dad? Lecturing me?"
"Was I lecturing? I don't believe I was," John muttered, waiting for the kettle to boil. He leaned against the worktop with arms crossed over his chest. "You've just decided to settle down, then? With a child? Speaking of, might want to watch your mother holding a baby."
"No, you're just pissy at Mum for having a wee bit of imbalance," Spencer said. "She had Liam all afternoon, and I'd happily trust her to hold him anytime, you old codger. Maybe falling for convicts runs in the family."
"She wasn't a bloody convict when we fell for her! She was a sweet, darling-"
"Prostitute?" Mary suggested, rolling herself in, sans baby. She'd left a bewildered Abby and Liam sitting on the sofa with Sherlock. He was simply hopeless around babies. "I'm sorry, but that counts as a criminal."
"Well. We didn't know what you did on the side," John grumbled, sulking.
"Hardly matters," Spencer said. "Abby's gone straight now that we have Liam, and I hope you'll kept your tongue because I bloody well plan to parent that little boy in there. I may even be his da someday!" His face was turning red with anger.
"Spencer, darling, calm down, your Dad is just worried for you. I was worried, too, dear, until I met the little angel," Mary said, reaching out for their son. "He's always cross these days. We'll have to start slipping something into his tea for it."
"You will not," John snapped, rubbing his hand over his forehead. He switched off the kettle and poured the boiling water into the ceramic tea pot waiting nearby. "I just think it's rather sudden and blast it, they're too damn young-"
"John, please. He's serious about this," Mary said and John bristled at her soothing voice.
"They're always serious when they've got a new experiment on and then a month later they're off to the next thing-"
"John!"
"You didn't raise him, Mary," John replied.
"And you and Father left for this place because Mum asked you," Spencer said, holding his mother's hand. "You all left me, Finch, and Bran over a year ago. On our own. We didn't even do Mum's birthday all together last time. We've grown up without you. A bit fast, but it's not like the kid was going anywhere else. I love Abby, and I love Bran. And. hell, I love Liam. And together? We're family." He squeezed Mary's hand.
"Yes. Well. I'm allowed to be concerned for you," John muttered. Mary rolled her eyes.
"Your default emotion is 'concerned', John. He's doing fine. Which you'd know if you called him sometimes. Come along, I want to play with it if it's not sleeping," Mary said imperiously, turning her floral chair to head back into the other room. John picked up the tray.
"Go on, then," he said, avoiding Spencer's eyes.
Spencer glared at his Dad, following his mother.
Sherlock had Liam under the arms, spinning him around making airplane noises.
"Da, careful with him!" Spencer said, hand outstretched.
"You used to love this!" Sherlock said over Liam's high pitched giggles. Sherlock popped him in the air again catching him. "Their brains interpret the movements as enjoyable. They require stimulation, Spencer. More than telly."
"I know that!" Spencer said, reaching for the boy he thought of his son, even though the dark olive tone of his skin was nothing like Spencer's milky pale English skin.
"He only dropped Spencer once, to my knowledge," Mary was saying to a rather worried-looking Abby. "As long as they land on their bottoms, they are generally alright."
"Oh My God," Abby said, leaping up to rescue Liam.
Liam was giggling happily though. "Abamama, mama! Again!"
Spencer was there to soothe them both. "Don't worry, I turned out alright. Not a broken bone in my life," he said.
"Though he dislocated his shoulder twice, had several sprains, and once gave himself a concussion on the recoil from a rifle," Sherlock replied. "Besides, your son is extremely intelligent. We could have him solving his first crime in a few years. Bank robberies and missing persons, first, of course. Save the murders for later."
"M-Murders?" Abby asked, eyes wide.
"Oh, come now, dear. We've all seen your resume," Mary said with a disappointed frown. "He's very smart. I like him."
"Yes, yes, I'm sure he's a genius," John remarked, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "He's probably the most intelligent baby in the world-"
"He is!" Abby snapped, bouncing the child on her hip. "He's the best little boy anyone could ever hope for."
Liam grew quiet, a small frown on his face. Spencer sighed, stroking the boy's hair.
"Now look what you've done," Spencer said. "He's quiet, not stupid. He observes, absorbs."
"Arse-orbs," Liam repeated. "Mama." He twisted back to look at Abby.
"Now, now, we've told you about that word. Abs-orbs. Abs." Abby kissed his forehead. "He's had a rough start of it, but he's doin' fine now."
"The McCannady's had him for a while. Finch rescued him, and I think anyone would be quiet after an ordeal such as that," Mary said, raising her eyebrows at John. "So no sudden movements or harsh tones. He's very welcome in our family, isn't he, John?"
John glared at her, but he nodded. "Yes. Very much so. You're the boss."
"Don't forget it," Mary said sweetly. "Liam, would you like to meet Bananadon's mummy? She'd love to see you!"
"Bananadon!!!" Liam roared, sending Sherlock and Spencer into laughter.
"He does love Bran," Spencer laughed.
Freya had in her ear-buds as she popped out of her room, shaking her bum as she headed for the kitchen. She made it into the doorway before back up, popping out a blasting bit of music as her jaw dropped.
"Oi, where'd the hell you kidnap that thing from? I was only joking about more babes," she said, heading over.
"This is Spencer's girlfriend, and her charming son Liam, and the newest love of your son's life," Mary told her matter-of-factly. She grinned at Liam. "See? Mini Bananadon."
"Bananadon!" Liam repeated, wriggling in Abby's lap.
Freya's grin was hissed as she giggled. "Really?"
"Yeah, he's quite obsessed with Brandon's hair.. and cooking, and being held," Spencer said, draping his arm around Abby's shoulder. "And Bran is wretchedly attached to him for all his fussing otherwise."
Freya took out her ear buds, tucking her music into her pocket then held out her hands. "May I?" she asked Abby.
"Um, uh," Abby glanced at Mary, who nodded. "Yeah, sure." She passed the bouncing baby over to the blond stranger, who was, actually, the first one to ask. Her eyes flickered over to Spencer. reaching out to touch his hand.
Freya was more gentle, more careful and less certain with the boy. "Ello, luv," she said softly. "Oh dear god, isn't he precious?" she said, eyes going misty. "Maryyy."
"Uh-oh," Spencer laughed into Abby's ear. "Aunt Free's gone mushy. Everyone watch out!" He squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"Yes, yes, he's precious. And Finch's child will have a little playmate, it's all wonderful," Mary cooed, equally as soft. "Should we adopt another?"
"Oh, God, you are too old to be chasing after toddlers," John muttered. Mary scowled at him.
"Is not," Spencer said. "Liam loves his Mare-mare."
"Bananadon," Liam was whispering to Freya.
"He's not so great with putting together names," he amended. "But we're working on that. I'm certain he knows me as 'that bloke whom I threw peas at yesterday'."
"You never did like peas," Sherlock said.
"You do realize this mocha gorgeousness did not actually get spawned by your loin-fruit," Freya said, toddler on her bony hip. "Here you go, luv. A mighty lovely lad you've got. Text me a picture of him with my son sometime, yeah?" she sniffed slightly.
"Uh, yeah, sure. If I can ever get them both to stand still long enough," Abby said, taking a shine to the small woman. Moreso than she had Freya's son. "He's ridiculously obsessive over feedin' Liam. I'm sure he'll be podgy if Bran don't lay off it soon."
"Nah, nah, they eat loads at that age. Careful, you won't be able to keep him in clothes," she said, sitting on Abby's opposite side. "Generally they know when they're full. Keeping meal times is the best."
"She learnt that out of a book," Sherlock muttered.
"Oh sod off, so did you," Freya said. "Had no idea how to be a mum, and whatever possessed me to spawn that son of mine- well, peer pressure. Everyone was doing it."
"I was doing it, I'm everyone," Mary said with a laugh. She wheeled herself closer to Sherlock, taking his hand. "And then I did it twice."
Sherlock raised her hand to kiss it. "Yes, and then dropped it on our door step without any instructions," he said.
"He turned out alright," Freya said, reaching to pat his and Abby's hands entwined. "And you two will too. No one is ever prepared for a kid-" Liam slid down out of Abby's lap.
"Watch him on that table, it's got sharp edges," John remarked, unsure of what facial expression he should be making.
"He's fine," Mary said with all the knowledge of a mother. "You should start looking at schools. I know it's a few years away, but Spencer, the waiting list for the nursery we had you in was months long. It's probably worse now."
"Already done," Spencer said. "Got him on the list right after the papers were dry from the lawyer. And the primary school too. Well, I got him wait-listed for three, and we can see where he's at learning wise before then."
Liam toddled, touching knees of adults as he held onto furniture and little eyes roamed over the room. He grabbed a bikkie from the tea tray - chocolate, of course, and headed straight for John. The old army soldier gave Sherlock a panicked look. Sherlock just smiled at him.
Liam grabbed onto John's denim clad knee, chewing half a chocolate digestive.
"Mama?" he said loudly. "Who dis?"
"That's Spencer's da," Abby told him gently. "That's Dr. Watson."
"Erm, John is fine," the old soldier replied. He tapped the little kid's hand. "Hello."
"Lo," Liam said dutifully. He leaned in to whisper. "Got a fire-tuck an' a'bu-wambulance. Shh, mysery."
"How exciting," John said softly, leaning towards Liam. "Have you got any tanks?"
"John!" Mary scolded. "Don't go giving him ideas."
Liam's lips pouted unhappily. "John gib tank?" he said, offering his half of bitten cookie. John smiled and patted his head.
"Keep the biscuit. Tank is on me," John replied, picking the child up to bounce him on his lap.
"And a water pistol, to shoot Brandon with," Mary suggested.
"Mummm," Spencer warned. "Shooting lessons are for a bit older," he admonished. "Besides, we've hardly worked out what to do bedroom wise when he gets a bit older."
"Oh that's right," Freya said. "That old flat did only have two bedrooms."
"I'm sure you'll get creative with it," Mary said, wheeling herself closer to her female lover, looking at her son. "Just keep an open mind-"
"I'm not sleepin' with Brandon," Abby said, crossing her arms and slumping down. "He smells like ol' food. And-" she almost said booze but cleared her throat. "He snores. I can 'ear 'im down the stairs."
"Things work a bit different in our house, Mum," Spencer said shyly. "Separate beds, separate relationships."
"One child?" Sherlock asked, brow raised.
"One's enough right now, isn't it?" Spencer sputtered. "Oh, Dad, wotcher, he's got chocolate on you."
"Your mother got paint on these jeans, it won't make much difference," John said with a shrug. He smoothed an aged hand over the boy's soft hair.
"Yes, well, Finch and Vance finally gave into having an intruder in their home, and their bed if the security footage is any indication. I just thought perhaps you might follow in their steps," Mary said innocently. Abby's eyes widened.
"You have footage of Thad 'n Finch 'n Scarface?" Abby blushed, looking at Spencer, horrified. "There ain't footage of us, is there?"
Spencer pursed his lips, a look very much adopted from John. "Of course not," he said, looking his mother in the eye. "Right?"
Mary raised her eyebrow. "Not at all, darling. I'd never watch footage of the two of you. Although I did find some very nostalgic scenes on your hard drive we should discuss later-"
"Mary!" John said, covering the baby's ears. Then he turned to his son. "Oh, really? Those times are not for your viewing."
Spencer's face lit up, "But Dad there was the one with Mum in the hosp-"
"No!" Sherlock said. "No, nope. Mary, I take it all back. He's your son, deal with him." He got up and headed towards Liam. "We've got a new son now," he teased. "He'll be the world's best consulting soldier."
"I'd rather 'im be somethin' bright. Like a- a-" Abby tried very hard to think of the best thing, "like a doctor or er, a business man or somethin' brillian'. 'E'll solve cancer or somethin' 'ard."
"He'll be the very best at whatever he does, Abs," Spencer said. "Well, Mum? Are we satisfied?"
"We are more than satisfied. You'll bring him again, won't you?" Mary asked, looking at Abby.
"Erm, yes, sure. If we're invited an' all," Abby said bashfully.
"Of course you're invited," Mary said, patting her hand.
"And don't forget, next week," Spencer said. "Liam? Are we ready to say bye-bye?"
Liam twisted to look at John. "Present?"
"Next time, promise. A soldier never goes back on his word," John said, patting the child on his head.
"Really, I've known several-"
"Shut up, Mary," John said nicely.
"Allll right," Spencer said. "That's enough, little bloke." He picked Liam up and handed him to Abby. He went to give his mother a hug and kiss. "We'll be back around soon. Drive's a bit far, so we're off."
"Be safe, text me when you get home," Mary said, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, darling, it was fun. Bye-bye, Liam!"
"Bye-bye!" Liam called out over Abby's shoulder.
Spencer breathed a sigh of relief when they got into the car. He shot a weak grin at Abby as he started the car. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"I don' fink your dads like me very much. But they're all so keen on Liam. It's a bit strange," Abby remarked, trying to smile back at him. "I mean, your mum practically acted like he's a grandchild."
"Mum and Sherlock," Spencer said. "Baby crazy. They didn't get to raise me together. Not really. Father thinks of children as the ultimate in potential. Possibly because he never grew up himself. I mean, he sort of is a grandchild. Just a bit." He looked nervously at her.
"Your mum is sweet on 'im. I saw 'er lookin' at 'im all soft," Abby said, remembering the sweet look on Mary's face when she watched Sherlock with the baby. "Did you spend much time with 'er when you were young?"
"Not really," Spencer said. "Never enough. She was busy. Finch was with us more than I was with Mum and Seb. More often Aunt Free kept her and Bran. Sometimes we all were together. But I certainly never had such.. access to my mum as I do now." He looked at the road, a sad look on his face. "She wanted my dads to have a 'proper' family."
"It's sweet. Y'know, a sacrifice on her end, but a gift to your dads. They love ya. That's important," Abby said, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. "An' Liam. Apparently, they love Liam."
Spencer took a hand off the wheel to squeeze her knee. "They'll learn to love you too," he said. "They just don't know you yet. I'm happy for what my mum did, y'know? I wouldn't exist otherwise. Not as me. I rather like who I am, who I'm with, and where I'm going." He turned to smile genuinely at her.
"That's good, 'cause I rather like you, too," Abby grinned back, leaning her head back on the seat, relaxed. "An awful lot."
"Good," Spencer said. "And Bran? You're getting on better? I know he's a nightmare to live with, and I don't expect you to ever go to bed with him. Ever. He's not. He's definitely not." He made a hand motion as if to explain everything before returning his hands to the wheel.
"I mean, I wouldn't say we're friends or nothin'. He's just tryin' to be nice to the baby," Abby said, watching his face. "He's importan' to you. I'm tryin' to be civil. He's still a big moron. An' I don' want him drinkin' 'round Liam."
"Absolutely not," Spencer said, hard. "He's been clean every night. I've checked him as he's come home. And if a baby is what it takes for him to stay sober, then so be it. For me? That lad's the most important out of all of us. He's bloody innocent and has got his whole life ahead of him. I want the best life for you and him. You're free of that world now."
The realization dawned on her, and she gave him a soft smile. "Yeah. We're both free now."
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