Cold medicine induced insomnia equals going through my unfinished works and polishing them up! This is a short fluffy-ish scene between Molly Hooper and Sherlock and a prequel of sorts to my other Parentlock! story, Sparklies. Enjoy everyone!
Molly gaped at the laboratory results in her hand, two thoughts slamming to the forefront of her mind. The first, I'm pregnant. The second, I have to tell Sherlock that I'm pregnant.
On the way back to Baker Street, she turned the folded paper over and over, thinking of ways to break the news. She decided the most logical way to inform her very logical lover was to just show him the report and let the results do the talking for her. Her hands dropped to her stomach, absently covering her womb as she thought of the new life inside.
However she'd imagined this moment in her life it wasn't like this. She'd always assumed she'd be married, first of all, and trying to add a third to her happy little duo in a cottage in the country with a white picket fence. She'd certainly never envisioned it like this, right now, 'cohabitating but not living together' in a downtown flat with a man who likened the appearance of a serial killer to Christmas. But, ideal or not, she was pregnant and this baby was not going to wait.
After paying the cabbie, she strode up the steps to Baker Street purposefully, thrust open the door and stopped short…as aforementioned logical lover was poised over a pig head on the dining room table with a very large syringe in hand.
"Oh, you're home late," he noted dryly, not looking up from his experiment.
"Yeah, I had somewhere I needed to go," Molly shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, hanging her scarf and jacket next to the door.
"Well now that you're here, I was hoping you could record some observations. I'm going to be injecting several different-"
"Sherlock, we need to talk," Molly cut him off, taking a deep breath to steel herself.
Sherlock tilted his head and put down the syringe.
"Have I done something? You've been crying recently."
"No! Well yes, I mean, we both did it I should say…" Molly groaned at her own rambling, thrusting the crumpled envelope she held at him before sinking into a chair.
There was some crinkling about as he unfolded the paper, a split second of silence as he read and then an almost disinterested reply.
"Hmm, how inconvenient."
Her mouth dropped open. They had never discussed children, per se, but surely he couldn't be so unfeeling at a time like this, could he?
Molly stood, anger seeping into her tone, "Well, convenient or not Sherlock, you're going to be a Daddy so-"
"Papa." he cut in, folding the paper up and stuffing it back in the envelope.
Molly blinked, looking up at his brisk demeanor.
"I think I'd like to be called Papa," he continued.
She opened and closed her mouth a few times as fresh tears tracked down her cheeks.
"You just said it was inconvenient and now you've got your title picked out? What the hell, Sherlock?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes and walked across to the mantle, picking up his skull and shaking something out of it into the palm of his hand.
"Come here, silly woman," he commanded, pulling her into his side and kissing her forehead as she sniffled, "I said inconvenient because I didn't get to give you this yet. Isn't that typically the order these things go in?"
"Given me what?" she asked, trying to see what was cupped in his free hand.
Sherlock tugged her left hand up as her eyes widened in recognition. He slipped a delicate diamond topped band on her ring finger, uncharacteristic nervousness written across his face.
"I know that I'm not exactly the best at this kind of thing but I don't get bored when I'm with you, and you know what an accomplishment it is to keep my mind occupied. I very much like you, Molly. You're the only person I've ever even considered spending the rest of my life with, besides John of course. And I'd much rather be in an intimate relationship with you than with John so…"
"Yes," Molly giggled, cutting him off with a sound kiss. "I very much like you too, Sherlock Holmes."