This is the first 'song' in the fic. Its very fluffy, and the rest of the fic will not be in chronological order - I'm going to mix it up a lil' bit.
I don't own the songs, I am in no way making money from mentioning them :)
I Love to Boogie - T Rex
She was 8 months into her pregnancy and she was making lunch.
Molly stood as far as she could to the counter without squashing the rapidly growing life in her belly. Her choice of meal today was a mashed banana and chocolate spread sandwich.
Her cravings had gotten crazier in the past few weeks.
Sherlock wondered whether the baby had inherited his love of experimenting.
The radio was merely humming in the background and Molly gently giggled every now and then at the banter between the hosts and co-hosts.
Sherlock laughed too, but at how domesticated he was now. Baby, wife, friends. He had never imagined these to be the things that made him happy most of all. A good murder did do the trick, but only until it was solved. He could carry on being happy, just because Molly and the little boy or girl were simply breathing.
He smiled to himself - he would've normally scorned his own mind for even mentioning the word happy alongside the words 'domesticated', 'wife' and 'baby' - but no - He just carried on, his smile widening until molly turned her attention away from the deliciously disgusting sandwich and onto him, She smiled back, giving him a 'you really are confusing' look, with that, Sherlock Holmes merely flashed his smile her way, to confuse her even more.
Molly went back to her lunch-making, with her sandwich finished, and looking horribly mushy, she felt she might actually need some goodness - the baby couldn't just ASUME it held all the power over what she ate - a fruit salad felt as if it would do the trick.
She gathered orange juice from the fridge and went over to the fruit bowl, by the radio, to gather the oranges and apples - like the primary school home economics classes had taught her so well (she got suddenly excited at the prospect of HER little one going to primary school and coming home with their first fruit salad.) - then her foot started tapping to the very familiar rhythm that was bouncing out of the speakers.
Without even meaning to, she started shuffling her feet so she moved up and down the length of the counter - forgetting all together about the fruit salad.
She turned up the volume very high. So sherlock could hear it.
She continued shuffling to the rhythm and started to mouth the words when Sherlock feet-shuffled, just like her, into the kitchen.
He was by her side, grabbing her hands and mouthing the lyrics along with her:
"We love to boogie...on a Saturday night..."
They swung their hips at the same time and tempo, to-ing and fro-ing their arms as they did so.
In the Hooper-Holmes household, dancing had become a necessity. Sherlock had insisted upon it after Molly had gone on maternity leave. While she had still been working at Bart's, she had been fine, no aches, not stressing, she was happy and so was the baby. However, when she didn't have a daily schedule, Molly's back had started to hurt (yes, Sherlock knew it was a natural part of pregnancy, but he just wondered why it was now, because she was supposed to have got those pains weeks before), she had been getting very stressed and was constantly second-guessing her skills as a mother, the baby was also kicking less. He didn't like that. Sherlock liked knowing it was there, just under Molly's skin, ready to hold in a couple of months.
So one night, after returning from Scotland Yard, he switched on his speakers and blared out some sappy tune from some 80's dance film she seemed to be hooked on which got her attention immediately.
And they danced.
Afterwards he insisted that this become a daily occurrence. She obliged happily.
Since Molly had been dancing to almost everything that had a beat, she was less stressed, her back hurt less and she slept better - also, she had an inkling that the baby liked it too because it seemed to kick more and more, every time she even wiggled to music.
Sherlock twirled her around as the song finished and swiftly misdirected her focus by planting a kiss on the top of her head while conspicuously reaching his hand out to steal the banana-chocolate spread sandwich and take bite.
He hadn't assumed it would taste so disgusting, because if he had he would have nearer a bin.
Molly smugly watched him gag and run to the nearest depository so to spit it out and rid his mouth of the awful, sweet, mush.
"My cooking isn't that bad." She joked, coolly taking her sandwich, finishing her fruit salad and sitting down at the table.
"I think I'm going to have to cleanse my mouth now." He said, taking a seat opposite her - watching as she devoured the horrible concoction.
Sherlock, just hoped that the baby appreciated it as much as Molly did.
