"Pizza?" Sherlock lifted his head off the table and gave Mary a wonky attempt at a glare, "A baby cannot eat pizza Mary," he admonished her, shaking his head in disappointment at Mary's unforgivable stupidity before slumping back on to the table.
Mary laughed softly and shook her head, immediately trying again, "Sherlock!"
Sherlock didn't bother to lift his head this time, just flapped his hand vaguely in Mary's direction dismissively, mumbling about Molly.
As Mary headed out of the kitchen intent on finding Molly she heard him mumbling about all the ladies and their 'M' names, he began listing them, starting first with Martha, then Mary herself, followed by Molly, culminating in his coup de grâce, Mycroft. Sherlock dissolved into giggles, actual giggles.
She called to John who was in the lounge room attempting to hoover, "John, talk to him will you? He's worse than I feared he would be."
John looked up from the hoover, his attempts to attach the dusting brush not going well, "Mary?" He gestured to the pieces then held his hands out hoping she would take pity.
She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Having trouble, sweetheart?" In a dangerously saccharine voice.
John's eyes narrowed taking her in, he gulped, "No, no love, course not," he shook his head to indicate how laughable that thought was, "I know my way around a Hoover, I mean, of course, it is the same as ours, so.." After patting the vacuum cleaner barrel, he nodded, watching Mary with wide eyes.
Mary grinned, to John's immense relief, apparently his discomfort was enough.
Mary found Molly lying in bed, giving Jane a bottle, they looked beautiful together, Mary stopped in the doorway transfixed.
"Do you want another Mary? I'm sure John would happily oblige.." Molly was radiant, exhausted? Definitely, judging by the storm clouds smudged under her eyes, but luminous none-the-less.
Mary laughed, "Hmmm, maybe not. I've just tried to talk to Sherlock, he looks a little worse for wear! You look to be in far better shape. Doesn't he cope rather well on no sleep? So why is he?" She tilted her head, eyes darting, trying to pinpoint a word to accurately describe Sherlock's current state.
Molly patted the bed next to her, "Have a seat Mary, let me tell you exactly what that git has been doing for the last couple of weeks since Jane and I came home from the hospital."
"As long as I can hold Jane when you're ready," Mary asked hopefully, "I promise I'm better," holding her hands up to show she wasn't hiding anything, "To get the flu when Jane was two days old," she complained bitterly.
Molly nodded, "You're here now Mary," she consoled her, smiling down at her little bundle, "She's still tiny Mary, and nearly done, she's falling asleep, I'll give her another few minutes to be sure. So, okay, Sherlock decided that the homecoming of his first born would be an ideal time to experiment," pausing, she tilted her head forward and gave Mary a pointed look, "He still hasn't forgiven you for not allowing him to perform experiments on Katherine." She informed her, grinning.
Mary snorted, "I'm not sure if he'll ever forgive me for that one! Kept trying to invoke god parent rights. So you allowed him to experiment?" Mary raised an eyebrow.
"Well, because Jane was unable to latch, all my milk is being expressed and then given by bottle, allowing dear Mr Holmes to perform an experiment without hindering me or Jane." Molly shrugged, "There's no stopping him, before this experiment his original idea was to perform experiments on me on my post natal maternal fat levels," her eyes blazed.
Mary laughed, "Oh god Molly, how you put up with him is beyond me sometimes."
Molly giggled, "Mary! Have you no eyes?"
Mary joined her for a giggle before asking, "So what experiment is he doing? Is he testing your milk?"
"Oh god no, I told him he can test some milk once Jane is weaned, he can have the last bottle when she no longer wants it, he agreed with that, he's quite pro breast milk, only the best for a Holmes." Laughing she put her nose up and wobbled her head, poking fun at his posh demeanour.
Mary frowned, "So what is the experiment?"
"He's testing weight gain compared with intake and output." Molly dissolved into laughter.
Mary's mouth dropped open, "How? Why!"
Molly shrugged, "He's been weighing my milk, then of course, weighing leftovers."
Mary laughed, nodding, solemnly adding "Of course."
"He's been weighing the nappies from the nappy service and sorting them in order of which nappy has to be put on next due to slight variations in weight from nappy to nappy, so he has to get the next nappy every time I need to change her, sometimes he gets confused and when I refuse to wait to change Jane until he's re-weighed the nappy, he ends up having to weigh all the rest of the pile to narrow down which nappy it was."
Mary was gaping at Molly, "But why?" She tried again.
Molly ploughed on, she was on a roll and felt good to let it all out, "Then of course he weighs them after she's been changed. He gives the same treatment to the burping cloths, they must be weighed before and after, and selected carefully by him, because spit up has not been digested, you should have seen his face when I suggested that some of it may have been! Last but not least, her clothes, since I refuse to undress her every time he weighs her they must be weighed before and after too."
Mary sat staring at Molly, her face reflecting her horror, she frowned, tilted her head, opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it.
Molly laughed, "Yes, he's thorough."
"Even for him this is extreme!" Mary exclaimed.
"He claims it's a once in a life time opportunity and can't be missed. Really it's because he's scared, he's worried he's going to mess it up, he doesn't understand that we all worry and that that's a good thing, the most worrying thing of all would be a parent who wasn't worrying."
Mary nodded, "John lost his mind too, told me he'd stop taking cases, I had to convince him that a mopey, depressed John Watson wouldn't be good for his daughter, or anyone, really."
"Speaking of your daughter," Molly raised her eyebrows, "Mrs Hudson snap her up?"
"Yes," Mary laughed, "Barely made it through the door, she had a mat set up, coloured balls, rattling toys, a baby mirror, she's got loads of baby paraphernalia, did you tell her we were coming?"
Molly laughed, "No! I think she's just always ready, waiting patiently, she keeps saying how much she's looking forward to looking after the baby, she constantly reassures me that she's not pushing, she just wants me to know the offer is there."
"Well, it'll be nice to have the time away from baby soon," Mary caught Molly's disbelieving expression and laughed, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "I know, I know, believe me, I do. Right now you don't want to be separated ever, not even for a moment, that's normal, you're bonding, but when she's a month old or maybe six weeks, you'll suddenly remember that you're not just a walking cupboard, you'll remember that you're a person in your own right, you'll miss just being Molly. When that happens, you take her up on her offer, and then you go out, with Sherlock, by yourself, or call me, and don't feel guilty."
Molly nodded along thoughtfully, politely feigning interest, Mary smiled, she knew the information would keep, Molly would feel it anyway, she didn't really need to be told, just encouraged that it's okay to take time for yourself.
The conversation took a turn and ended up on sleeping patterns, cots and co-sleepers, baby slings and prams, they passed a good amount of time in this vein, Mary holding Jane and marvelling over her tiny little fingers and little button nose.
John on the other hand was not finding the visit as relaxing as his wife, he was stuck with a sleep deprived Sherlock who was in a right strop, "Molly is sabotaging my observational experiment on Jane," he declared imperiously.
John sighed and looked up at Sherlock shaking his head slightly, "Sherlock, Molly just had a baby, your baby, she needs your support, not a mad scientist roaming the house with a set of scales!" John's voice softened, "Sherlock, she's afraid too, everyone gets scared."
Sherlock's head reared back, his face painted with disgust, teeth gritted he spat, "I am not afraid!" He spat in disgust, "Afraid of what? A baby?" He sneered.
John smiled weakly, daring to try again, "No Sherlock, of course you're not afraid of a baby, that would be absurd," he darted a glance at Sherlock, relieved to see him visibly relaxing. Sherlock had to be willing to listen if he was to be of any help at all.
John's voice was gentle when he continued, feeling rather like a lion tamer he forged on, "You're afraid of being a father," his eyes were soft as he looked at his friend in understanding. "Me too mate, being a father is tough, for everyone, there are no guarantees, and something could go wrong, but that's true for every single parent and Jane need you now, and hiding in experiments won't help, it won't keep them safe, all that will happen is you will miss out, time goes fast with kids."
Sherlock frowned, eyes sweeping from side to side as he processed this new data.
John decided to put on the kettle on, give himself something to do while he waited for E.T. to phone home.
As he poured water in the pot he heard Sherlock approaching, "I find your argument, not without merit."
John grinned, "Right, what do you want to know you git?"
Sherlock cleared his throat, "Ah, I need to know," he paused trying to marshal his thoughts, asking for help was not his strong suit and John could in no way be perceived as an expert. Steeling himself for the ridicule that would surely follow he took a breath and dived in, "I don't know how to be a good father and husband," his head hung in shame.
John's laughter rang out, Sherlock's head snapped up, his eyes wild with fury, "If you were only planning to mock me why did you bother to start this whole conversation?" Anger battled with hurt, each fighting for dominance.
John pulled himself together and adopted a serious tone, "No one knows how to be those things, Sherlock, we just all try, we muddle through."
Confusion rolled across his features, swiftly followed by hope, he looked at John, wanting to see for himself the truth of his answer to the question he planned to pose. "So it's not just, it's not just…me? It's not the way I am?"
John met his gaze without flinching, "No mate," he assured him, "That's the way it is for everyone, it's hard, Molly's scared too."
Sherlock's eyes widened, "Molly? But she's good with emotions, why would Molly be scared?" He looked around the room trying to figure out this new puzzle he'd just been handed.
"She'd feel better if you would talk to her, Sherlock."
Sherlock looked at him in surprise, "Why would admitting a shortcoming to me make her feel better?"
John sighed, "It's not admitting a fault Sherlock, it's being vulnerable and allowing them to do the same. It's what people do, it helps, you don't feel so alone, and for whatever reason Molly adores you, you're the one she wants, you make things better for her."
Sherlock nodded thoughtfully, "Right, you need to leave now, I have some bonding to do with my wife and daughter."
"Yup, no need to thank me, or be polite Sherlock," John closed his eyes for a moment.
Sherlock shrugged and waved him away, "I didn't."
John sucked in a breath, "Right, obviously. Mary?"
Mary appeared in the kitchen moments later, "Mrs Hudson need rescuing?"
"No, god no, not a peep out of her, no it's just that sir would like to spend time with his wife now.."
Mary grinned, "Experiment notes need to be written up?"
Sherlock glowered at Mary petulantly, "Such wit Mary," he drawled. "Actually," he began, clearing his throat and turning away, although not quick enough for Mary to miss the surge of pink dusting his cheeks so prettily.
Mary had to stifle a laugh, earning her another glare from Sherlock, she squeaked out an apology and waved her hands to encourage him to go on as she made her way to John's side.
Sherlock drew himself up, attempting to use his height advantage to intimidate the diminutive Watsons, the attempt was a spectacular failure, they both stood, arms linked, watching him the way one watches animals at the zoo, prepared for the antics to get out of control, but certain of their safety none-the-less.
Sherlock let out a breath, visibly deflating as he did so, he ran his hands through his hair, "I'm going to talk to Molly, thank you both for coming."
John and Mary smiled, Mary was the first to respond, "Of course Sherlock, any time, we're here for you, when you and Molly want some time for yourselves in a few weeks, we can spell Mrs Hudson, make sure you get some quiet time together without nappies and bottles."
Sherlock nodded looking grateful, giving them a wan smile he leaned into Mary and brushed his lips across her cheek, "Goodbye Mary," he gave John a hand shake, acknowledging his help and wished them well getting home.
Closing the door behind them he leaned against it for a moment. Emotion, the one area in which he was lost at sea, and he was married to the most emotionally capable women he had ever met, plenty would disagree with that statement given her dating history but they would be idiots to do so. It's not how bumpy her life and luck has been, it's how she has dealt with the blows that matters.
Most people upon finding out that they had dated and slept with an internationally renowned criminal mastermind, and then helped the man she loved and would later marry to fake his death in order to escape said criminal mastermind's plan, thereby indirectly helping to ensure the criminal's own death would never forgive themselves, they would wallow in it and slowly lose themselves, one more death to add to the spider's web.
Molly didn't do that, she cried her tears, and then she forgave herself, he rather thought her forgiveness was her secret weapon, she did it so frequently and so well. She was able to keep her good opinion of the world and of herself, which kept her smiling through things that many would find unbearable. Sherlock knew she could pull herself through this time of uncertainty too without his help, but he wanted to be there for her, and let her be there for him, he'd opened his heart and let her in and he had no intention of ever intentionally keeping her out again.
He found Molly sitting on the bed rubbing her face and eyes, leaning on the door jamb he smiled at her waiting for her to notice and acknowledge his presence.
Molly looked up, hands sliding off of her face, "Sherlock! Do you need the nappy? I changed her into the nappy you left out for the next change and I put the dirty on its own on the tub, and the burping cloth is.."
"Molly," he interrupted.
"In the other basin," she continued, seemingly oblivious to him.
"Molly!"
Molly's head whipped toward the cot and then towards him, Jane didn't stir, she was still in her newborn I can sleep in the midst of a spinning hurricane phase. "Sherlock?" her face reflecting her concern.
His voice was softer as he sat down next to her and took her hand, "Molly, look at me."
Molly looked up into his ever shifting eyes, sighing a little, her features softened as they always did whenever he looked at her, a power he hoped would never diminish, not because of vanity, well, not only because of vanity. He didn't want to even imagine a world in which Molly Hooper didn't love him, she had loved him for so long her love had become a part of his identity.
She sat looking up at him, patiently waiting to hear what mad cap new plan or theory he was about to veer off into, "Molly?"
"Yes Sherlock?" She grinned, he returned it, well aware that he had said her name four times, "Molly," he closed his eyes, this was rapidly taking a turn into absurdity. He tried again, this time feeling it would be prudent to skip her name, he had her attention, no question. He cleared his throat, "I'm afraid," his gaze held hers even as his chest constricted.
Molly slipped her hands free of his and wound her arms around his neck, whispering in his ear she assured him, "Me too, wanna be scared together?"
He exhaled a long breath in relief, John had been right, this was better, nodding gratefully he ran his hands through her silky hair before tilting her head up for a chaste kiss, as much as he would have loved to show her how much he appreciated her physically he knew that wasn't yet possible.
Once again Molly proved to be adept at negotiating emotions, "Lie down with me? I'd love a hug Mr Holmes."
Sherlock used his long arms to wrap around her and lift her up, her tiny frame seemingly weighing nothing, he lay down and lay her next to him with their heads on the pillows. "I love you Mrs Holmes."
"I love you too Mr Holmes, but your experiment is starting to become irritating, do you still need it?" They both knew she was talking about his emotional need for it.
"No, I think it'll be okay to leave it now," he kissed the top of Molly's head and encouraged her to roll over so he could curve his body around her while they all slept.
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