Sherlock entered the flat of 221B Baker Street and wearily removed his coat and scarf, putting them both on the coat rack near the door.
He was surprised and a little disappointed that Molly wasn't at the door to greet him, as she usually was after he had had a long day. Instead, she was sitting on the sofa, with eyes glued to the television.
"What has you so interested that you are neglecting my 'welcome home' kiss?" asked Sherlock with a note of pique in his voice.
Molly looked over at him and gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, honey, but it's not every day that a royal prince gets engaged. It's so exciting!"
Sherlock walked over to his wife and sat beside her on the sofa, groaning slightly as he lifted his legs onto the coffee table.
His groan finally caught Molly's attention fully, and she asked. "What's wrong? How did everything go with the case today?"
"Well, I solved the double murder, but I had to walk all over town to do it. I feel like I've been in a marathon. I had to give chase for ten minutes at the end to help apprehend the culprit. Lestrade was most grateful that I was the one doing the running. All my leg muscles are aching and my feet hurt from these new shoes."
"Oh, you poor darling," sympathized Molly as she kissed his cheek. "Would you like me to draw you a nice bath?"
"Thank you, that would be lovely. But please, this time don't add that jasmine vanilla to make bubbles, the way you did last time. I like that scent on you, not me."
Molly pouted. "Awww, but I like the smell on you."
"No bubbles, Molly," he said sternly.
"Oh, very well," she huffed. "But we need to buy some bubble bath for you, some manly bubble bath."
Sherlock rolled his eyes as his wife made her way to the bathroom to get his bath ready.
He closed his eyes in exhaustion and was half-asleep when he felt Molly's hand on his arm.
"Your bath is ready, darling. Do you want me to help you walk to the bathroom?"
"I made it home on my own two legs, I think I can manage," he told her, rising stiffly from the sofa.
Molly gave him a concerned look. "Alright then,I'll go into the bathroom and help you undress when you get there."
It took Sherlock twice as long as usual to reach the bathroom. He entered and immediately started to unbutton his suit jacket, then his shirt. Molly bent down and pulled off his shoes and socks, then helped him out of the rest of his clothes.
He sank gratefully into the warmth of the bubble-free tub, feeling the water immediately begin its work of easing the ache in his muscles. "Do you want to join me?" he slyly asked Molly, who was still hovering.
"No, no, I don't think so," she said, although he was sure she wanted to. "If I get in with you, you will forget about relaxing your aching muscles and get distracted."
Sherlock knew she spoke the truth ,but he pouted anyway, as she hastily backed out of the room. She returned only once, with his dressing gown and a clean pair of boxers.
Twenty minutes later, feeling very much better than he had when he had entered the flat, Sherlock made his way back to the sitting room. He was surprised to see a huge plate of chips on the coffee table, along with two cups of tea. "When did you have time to get those?" he asked.
"I got them earlier today. Just popped them in the oven to reheat while you were in the bath."
"That was very thoughtful of you, sweetheart." He put a hand under Molly's chin and gave her a tender kiss.
"I hope you don't mind if I eat some of those chips too. I brought them in here so I can keep an eye on the telly and see if Prince Harry and Meghan announce a wedding date."
"Help yourself. I'm sure Joe gave you an extra large portion as usual. I am starting to think that man prefers you to me these days. He acts as if you're the daughter he never had every time we go there for chips."
"He's such a darling man. You're right about the portion size, there's more in the kitchen if we finish these."
"We may well need more with your appetite increasing lately."
"I'm eating for two, remember. Besides, you know I lost weight at first because I had such awful morning sickness."
"Yes, you lost about five pounds, but you put it back on and gained an extra three."
Molly frowned. "It isn't nice to tease a woman about putting on weight. Especially when she is carrying his child. You might just find yourself locked out of the bedroom tonight."
"I'm sorry, forgive me." Sherlock said penitently. "You know I'm just teasing. You can gain fifty pounds for all I care." He placed a hand reverently on her belly, gently rubbing it.
"We had better eat before the chips need to be reheated again," pointed out Molly, a little breathlessly.
Sherlock knew she loved it when he rubbed her belly that way. He still hadn't felt the flutter of the baby moving yet, although Molly assured him she had been feeling one every now and then. Reluctantly, he removed his hand and began to eat the chips from his favourite fish shop.
They both ate the chips and drank their tea. When the plate was empty, Molly offered to bring in more, but Sherlock was content with what he had eaten. She went into the kitchen and put the rest of the chips into the fridge then sat back down on the sofa.
Sherlock put his arm around her and she snuggled into him.
Every now and then there was another short news clip about the royal engagement on the television.
"Sherlock," Molly asked after they had been relaxing for some time, "do you think we will get an invitation to the wedding?"
He thought a moment. "Probably not. I'm not important enough, although I wouldn't be surprised if Mycroft received one."
"Well, if you don't get one, you SHOULD. After all, you single-handedly prevented a royal scandal when you stopped that witch, Irene Adler, from extorting money from them. You also refused a knighthood, according to Mycroft."
He chose to ignore Molly's comment about Irene Adler. That was a rather touchy subject. Instead, he addressed her comment about his refusal to accept a knighthood. "I didn't want to be Sir Sherlock. It sounds ridiculous and pretentious."
"Mmm, I kind of like it," Molly told him, putting her arms around him and threading her fingers through his curls, the way she did almost every day. He had lost count of the times she had told him how sexy she found his hair. Molly pulled his head down to hers so she could kiss him and then whisper in his ear, "I love you, Sir Sherlock."
It didn't sound so bad when she said it like that, he reflected. Maybe next time he was offered a knighthood, he wouldn't refuse.
His wife had not finished her conversation, however.
"So, if we do get an invitation, can we go?"
"Hang on a minute," said Sherlock. The latest news report about the engagement announcement was on. There was talk about the wedding date being set for the following summer. Having heard that, he said, "If we were to get an invitation, the timing would probably preclude us from accepting it."
"Why?" Molly asked in astonishment. "Who would turn down an invitation to the wedding of a member of the Royal Family?"
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
She gave him a puzzled look. "I don't think so."
"Sweetheart, you are pregnant. Would you really want to leave our baby with someone else while we go to a wedding? We certainly couldn't take our infant with us. I, for one, have no intention of allowing anyone to babysit our child until she is a few months old."
He hadn't realized what he had said until Molly pointed it out. "You said 'she,' Sherlock. Do you think we are having a girl?"
"It's just a feeling," he admitted. "It's not like I can really accurately deduce something like that. We should find out soon anyway when you have your ultrasound. I have a fifty percent chance of being right."
"So, no wedding then?"
"I'm afraid not. If we do get an invitation, you can always show it to your friends."
Molly perked up a little. "That sounds good." Then she continued, "Do you think we might get an invitation to the baptism of Prince William's baby when it comes?"
"You are too obsessed with the royals. No, no baptism invitation. I'm sure that would be limited to close family and friends. Besides, our own baby is due only a month after theirs. Wouldn't you rather be thinking about our upcoming blessed event?"
Molly flushed with embarrassment. "You're right. Of course you are. I can't wait 'til our baby, 'til SHE comes."
Sherlock gave her a lingering kiss. He was really hoping he was right. A baby girl would give him two girls on whom to lavish his affection. He couldn't wait to find out for sure.
Author's note: So, today's news of the royal engagement inspired me to write this little one-shot. If Sherlock wasn't a fictional character, I think he would merit an invitation!
This one-shot is also a glimpse into the future of my major Sherlock story, "A Journey to Love, Faith and Marriage."