A/N: This is a little something that I wrote today for Sci-fi Christian, who gave me the prompt 'making Molly smile' in a lovely review on my 'Sherlolly OTP Challenge'. Hope you like it, and have a better rest of the day! :)
Molly's day was already going terribly. She had woken up feeling ill, promptly thrown up, and then returned to bed, collapsing into the duvet, as she had the previous two days.
When she had rushed to the bathroom, Sherlock had followed, pulling back her hair, and rubbing her back, before phoning Bart's to inform them that his wife wouldn't be coming into work that day either.
Whilst Molly lay in bed feeling sorry for herself, Sherlock came back into the bedroom. "Molly, I'm just going to get some things, are you ok by yourself for ten minutes or so?" he asked, draping another blanket over her.
"Yes, I'm feeling a bit better, it's probably something I ate last night," she replied, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek. Reassured that his pathologist would be ok while he was gone, Sherlock left quietly, wrapping his scarf around his neck to keep off the chill.
Five minutes later he was walking around Tesco Express, a basket full of items in his hand. Mentally, he checked the items off of the list in his head. Milk, check; Eggs, check; Bacon, check; Bread, check; Flowers, check. Just as he thought he had everything, another item caught his eye, triggering a rapid string of deductions. When he finished his deductions, he stood for a moment, regaining his composure, before adding the item to his basket.
Returning to 221B, Sherlock fried the eggs and bacon, toasted some bread, and poured out a glass of milk, arranging them on a tray ready to take through to Molly, who was still in bed. Finally, he placed the other item he had purchased on the tray, hidden at the back behind the flowers. Slightly nervous, he picked up the tray and made his way through to their bedroom, smiling at his wife as he did so, who failed to smile back, looking nauseous.
"Thank you for the gesture, but the smell of the bacon is making me feel worse," she said, as he set the tray down. His suspicions practically confirmed, he took the bacon away, before returning to a confused-looking Molly.
Holding up the item he had added, she spoke, looking shocked. "A pregnancy test? You don't think I'm – " she trailed off, and he saw her make the same connections he had earlier.
"You've been sick the past three mornings, you've been complaining about putting on weight, and specific smells are making you feel ill," Sherlock said, reeling off the list of deductions he had made. "I think it's fairly safe to say you're pregnant."
Mute, Molly took the test out of the box and made her way to the en suite, leaving Sherlock to pace nervously in the bedroom, despite his certainty that he was right.
After a nerve-wracking five minutes, Molly returned to the bedroom. For the first time in three days, she was smiling, beaming from ear-to-ear. "You're going to be a father," she laughed, as Sherlock rushed over and enveloped her in his arms, kissing her softly.
...
Eight months later, as William Hooper-Holmes was placed in her arms, Molly gave Sherlock a beautiful, exhausted smile, that he mirrored as the newest addition to the Hooper-Holmes family became one of the two people who were the best in the world at making Molly smile.