"Good grief."

"What's that, love?" John called from the living room.

"Nothing," Molly shoved something into her pocket. "Look, I'm going to run to the shops, do you need anything?" He frowned, confused by her actions, but shrugged it off.

"No, nothing,"

"Okay," she bent quickly and kissed him. "Watch Tilly, if Sherlock calls about a case, I think Mrs. Hudson is still home."

"Yup." One last kiss and he released her.

This was mad. Absolutely mad. They were always careful. Always. But then accidents happen, right? Of course she couldn't think of the last time they'd not used protection but well, here she was, clutching a pregnancy test in the middle of the aisle, staring off into space. Condoms weren't fool-proof, of course they weren't. But honestly they were always careful! Not that this was a bad thing, if it was in fact a…well…fact. She and John had never discussed a second child. God maybe she should just run a blood test. Yes. That would be definitive. Pregnancy tests could be wrong, blood couldn't lie.

Setting the test back on the shelf she shouldered her purse, heading back out onto the sidewalk and hurrying to St. Barts. With any luck, Sherlock would be finished in the lab.

Luck, apparently, did not favor Molly Watson today.

"Afternoon," Sherlock said, hearing the door open, not bothering to look up from his microscope.

"Hello! Hi. Sherlock. Still here?"

She could have slapped herself.

Slowly, he lifted his head, studying her carefully. She could practically hear the deductions rolling through his head. He opened his mouth, eyes sparking, a smug grin quirking at his lips.

"Don't. You. Dare." He shut his mouth, confused, in fact quite shocked. "At least wait until I take the blood test."

Here he frowned.

"Why not? I'm obviously right. You and John are expecting a second off-spring."

"Sherlock!"
"What?!"

"I'd like to be certain before I spread that around!"

"Whatever for? Isn't it his?" Sherlock asked. She gave him a look.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Right, sorry," he murmured, then got to his feet. Her hands were shaking, trying to roll up her sleeve. "Allow me," he said gently, taking the needle from her. "You're upset."

"I'm worried there's nothing there," she admitted at last, sniffling. "Worried John won't want it if it is there, which is nonsense; he loves children, especially ours." Sherlock smiled at this, more for her. Of course John would love this child she so clearly was carrying (even if she wasn't ready to admit it yet). "I'm scared because if it's right, it's unplanned and I always plan everything, how could we be so careless?"

"You're hardly careless and I imagine as you've switched birth control, you have to get the first out of your system before taking the second, and condoms are hardly one-hundred percent sucessful."

"Thank you, Sherlock, I know that!" she snapped. "Sorry." He shrugged in response, looking at the sample in his hands.
"This is ready to go, shall I send it off?"

"I'll run it," she answered. "It'll take too long if we wait for lab hours."

"You know whatever happens, John will love you regardless," Sherlock said quietly. "He'll love this baby too." Her hand splayed over her abdomen, her other hand clutching the sample.

Hours Later…

"There you are," John said, hearing the front door open. "Thought you were just running to the shops."

"I did," Molly said and greeted him with a kiss. "I stopped by Barts too, and then I had to run back to the shops for a few things, I made Sherlock carry my bags."

"Good for you," John chortled. Sherlock bustled in behind Molly. Matilda got to her feet, television forgotten as she greeted her mother and then flung herself into her Uncle Sherlock's arms. Dropping the bags, he scooped her up, pressing a kiss to her rosy cheeks.

"Now, my lady Guinevere, what could this possibly be in this bag in my pocket? Shall we go downstairs and open it?" He asked, already knowing she was curious about the lumpy parcel. Molly mouthed her thanks to him and he nodded, carting Matilda downstairs while she began running deductions about his day.

Once the door was closed, Molly approached her husband, full of trepidation and hope.

"I've got something for you too," she said and handed John a gift bag.

"Oo you do spoil me," he teased and kissed her again in thanks. He dug through the wrapping paper, pulling out a manila folder. "Oh. Thanks, a blood test," he frowned, amused at Molly's expression.

"Yes, I just took one today." It only took a moment for John to realize. Hope blossoming, along with surprise and delight, he flipped open the folder, scanning the print-out, at the bottom, in Molly's hand-writing she'd scribbled "SURPRISE, DAD" in tip-ex.
"I-I um, I got you a mug too," she said, reaching for the bag, pulling out an over-sized mug with "Best Dad (Again)" written over it. Before she could pull it out of the box, John was pulling her into his arms, kissing her anywhere he could reach. Tears rolling down his cheeks as he laughed, he scooped her up into his arms.

"How did you know to take a test?" he asked as she thumbed away his tears.

"I dunno," she shrugged, quite honest. "I just…I took the spare this morning, the one we keep down under the sink, I felt odd all month and I just…I took it on a whim. It came up positive and I panicked, I ran to Barts to run a blood test." She laced her fingers behind his neck. "You're not upset though, even if it's unexpected?"

"Of course I'm not," John regarded her, eyes shining and he bent and kissed her again. "Unless it's not mine," he joked and she pinched his bottom hard. He yelped, jerking back. "Fair enough," another kiss and she forgave him. "But it's for certain? Everything's okay? You're okay?"

"No everything is fine, I'm fine, the baby is fine, so far," she wiped her nose, laughing and crying all at once. She knew it was silly to be nervous. John loved her and he loved Matilda. Of course he would be happy at the prospect of another little Watson. John drew her close again, bringing her out of her thoughts as he embraced her.

"Ew," They both turned to see Matilda on Sherlock's shoulders just outside the doorway. He bent low so she wouldn't knock her head on the doorframe as he stepped in. Sherlock wrinkled his nose.

"I concur."

"Is it true there's a baby in Mummy's tummy?"

"Uterus," Sherlock muttered.

"Uterus," Matilda corrected herself. Molly and John exchanged exasperated grins.

"Yes, lovey, you'll be a big sister in eight months or so."

"Oh." This gave the little girl something to think about. Sherlock carefully lowered her to the ground. After a moment, she looked to her parents. "Will I have to share my room?"

"Hm. Hadn't thought of that," John said. "Suppose I'll sacrifice my office for the good of the family."

"What about Uncle Sherlock?" Matilda asked. "Will he be the new baby's uncle too?"
"Yes, I expect so," Molly answered with a laugh.

"Good," she went to her mother and hugged her then. "Everyone should have an Uncle Sherlock."

"Again, I concur," Sherlock said, preening.

"You would," John chortled. "Perhaps we'll have a William Watson on our hands this time." If Sherlock was flattered, he said nothing, but the tips of his ears turned bright red and he looked at his shoes. If he distracted himself by picking up Matilda and tickling her, John and Molly didn't have the heart to tease him, too caught up in the excitement of a new baby, a new thread of life from their shared loved, woven into their lives.