Sherlock looked around the flat, which was definitely tidier then usual, and then his eyes alighted on Molly, who was holding their just-turned-one-year-old daughter, Victoria. "Ready for our little celebration, love?" he asked with a smile.

"Drinks and snacks aren't that hard to prepare, so those can wait a bit," she responded, adding, with a mischievous smile, "At least it gave me an excuse to have you help me clean up a little." She was right about that, thought Sherlock, focussing his attention on her next words. "Anyway, I know you've been dying to tell the whole story of how you figured out that those thieves employed that red-haired man in order to get him out of his pawn shop so they could dig a tunnel in the basement of the shop through to the bank next door. You, John and Greg can tell us the whole story about it tonight."

Sherlock thought how great it was, how like old times, now that he and John had returned to going on cases together since the beginning of the year. He still felt grateful to Mycroft for making that possible by having all the money Mary Watson had earned in her former profession released to her surviving spouse, John. That new solvency had enabled the friends to do their work without requiring additional employment.

Victoria reached out her chubby arms to her father, and Sherlock took her from Molly, lifting her in the air and swinging her around, much to his daughter's gleeful delight. Then he placed her against his hip and returned his attention to Molly. "It will be most enjoyable to talk about that, but I know you're more anxious to let everyone know about our other news."

Molly slipped an arm around his waist. "Do you think everyone will be surprised to know we are expecting again when Victoria only just turned one? I'm still amazed I got pregnant when I was still breast-feeding and hadn't even had a period."

"Apparently you are ridiculously fertile, my love," he commented, and Molly laughed.

"Guess your little swimmers are just as anxious to make you a daddy again," was her rejoinder. "So much for being considered a geriatric mother at my age," she added, a little smugly, as Victoria, apparently having had enough of her daddy, reached for her mummy instead.

Sherlock relinquished the baby yo-yo to Molly once again. "Do you want to share our other news as well?" he asked.

Molly chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully, as she placed Victoria on her own hip again, swaying slightly. "Let's wait until we know for sure that the house is ours. It would be embarrassing if things fell through and we had to tell people we weren't moving after all."

Sherlock nodded. "Fair enough, but I have a good feeling about this, Molly. It just seems providential that a suitable house came on the market as we started looking, and it happens to be the current residence of a former client."

Molly pushed her hair away from her shoulder and behind it, because Victoria was pulling at it, and Sherlock suppressed a smile. At least their baby wasn't only obsessed with his own curls, but with hair in general. "It does seem to be a God thing doesn't it? The fact that you chose a simple case and found that boy's cat for him almost two years ago makes me think God was laying the groundwork for our future home even back then, when we were newly engaged."

"God works in mysterious ways," he declared, and it wasn't the first time he had expressed that sentiment. There had been so many signs that had presented themselves since he had opened his heart to God, that had made things abundantly clear there had been a Divine plan in motion from the beginning for Molly and himself.

He bent and kissed Victoria's forehead, then Molly's, and his two girls gave him identical smiles with matching dimples.

They had just finished an early dinner, and Victoria was finishing up her own fruit snacks in her high chair when Molly made a sudden exclamation. "Sherlock, I almost forgot. Today we have another reason to celebrate."

He looked at her quizzically. "We do?"

Molly grinned at him. "Last year, you were the one to remind me of this particular anniversary."

Sherlock's eyes opened wide. "Sherrinford," he breathed. How could he have forgotten? On this day, two years earlier, he had finally had the emotions he had tried to repress for most of his life fully restored. But more than that, it was the night he had finally known he truly had a heart, and that he had lost it without realising it to a sweet pathologist who meant the world to him; a pathologist who now sat beside him as his beloved wife of over twenty-one months.

He took Molly's hand where it rested on the table and kissed it. "We've come so far since then, haven't we? If anyone had told me two years ago that I'd be married with a child, and baby number two on the way, I would have thought they were daft."

Molly grinned. "I would've thought the same thing," she admitted. "You know I had given you up as a lost cause by then." She looked over at their daughter, who had decided to squish one of the fruit snacks onto the tray of her high chair, then back at Sherlock. "We really are blessed, aren't we?"

Sherlock stood then and dropped a kiss on Molly's head, before taking charge of the baby, whose face was now a sticky mess as well as her hands. "Indeed we are, my love."

Soon afterwards, it was almost time for guests to arrive, so Molly opened a bag of smoky bacon crisps and put them in a bowl, then put some mini sausage rolls into the oven.

Sherlock had changed Victoria and put her in her playpen, along with some block puzzles, and she was contentedly pulling up the pieces.

"Sherlock, did you bring the Moses basket down for Adam, in case Kayla needs to put him down for a nap while they are here?" Molly called from the kitchen.

Sherlock smacked a hand to his forehead. "I'll do that right now."

He went upstairs to the spare bedroom, which served more as a utility room, now that Victoria's cot was in his and Molly's bedroom. He found the Moses basket and brought it down, then deposited it in the sitting room. Then he took a handful of crisps and munched on them while looking around for Molly, who had disappeared. A moment later he heard the toilet flush and she soon reappeared. She was suddenly looking a little pale.

Sherlock's lips twisted in sympathy. "Isn't that the third time today?" At Molly's weary nod, he continued. "Well, if it happens while everyone is here, I think they won't need an announcement that we are expecting again. Even John would recognise the signs, having seen it with Kayla. Mary was certainly fortunate to be one of the few women who was robust in health throughout her pregnancy."

"Lucky her," said Molly dourly, then her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Have you been at the crisp bowl, Sherlock?"

Sherlock hastily placed his hands behind his back. "Er, why would you think that?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "You seem to think I have no observational skills. Don't you think I noticed the residue of crisps on your fingers? Come here," she demanded and he meekly complied. "Open your mouth." Reluctantly, Sherlock opened his mouth. He still rather enjoyed this more assertive version of Molly which had emerged in the past several months. It proclaimed that they were comfortable with one another, and did not need to be on their best behaviour, as they had been, early in the marriage. This was what marriage was really about, being themselves and not ever having to worry about doing something that would cause a permanent rift between them.

"Sorry I started enjoying the snacks before the party," he told her penitently when she wagged a finger at him.

Then she smirked, took hold of his head and pulled it down to hers. "I guess it's my turn for an experiment," she said softly before meeting his lips with her own. She explored the recesses of Sherlock's mouth, tasting that smoky bacon flavor that was their favourite. It was usually Sherlock who demanded the taste experiments, and it was a little game with them that dated back to when they had been first engaged.

He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her in a little closer, prolonging the kiss until the doorbell rang, and he remembered they had guests coming.

Reluctantly, Sherlock released Molly and went to wash his telltale bacon-powder-dusted hands. There was no need for them to answer the door to the street, because it was unlocked and Molly had placed a note on the front that said "Ring the bell and then come on up." He supposed it would serve them right if some random stranger decided to avail themselves of the opportunity.

A few moments later, two pairs of feet were heard on the stairs and Sherlock commented, as he returned to the sitting room. "That will be Greg and Lori."

Molly slid a glance over at him. "One of the Watsons could be carrying Rosie while the other is carrying Adam," she pointed out.

Sherlock merely shrugged. He was familiar enough with Lestrade's footsteps over the past several years that he knew it was his detective inspector friend.

Sure enough, Molly opened the door to see Greg and Lori standing there. She welcomed the couple in, and Lori immediately headed over to the playpen to fuss over Victoria.

"Glad you could make it, Greg," said Sherlock. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, that's okay," responded Lestrade. "I see that John and his family haven't arrived yet, so I'm happy to wait until everyone is here. It will be nice to see his new baby again. I think I've only set eyes on Adam twice - after his birth, and at the christening."

Molly laughed. "Well, I don't suppose John really wants to take Adam out on cases with him. I would never let Sherlock do that with Victoria either."

"Still don't know how you managed to convince John to make his middle name Sherlock," remarked Greg, shaking his head at Sherlock in a bemused fashion.

Sherlock smirked. "I merely reminded him that he only met Kayla because of me and Molly getting together. I'm a little disappointed he didn't give the baby Sherlock as a first name, though."

Molly punched Sherlock lightly on the arm. "Just as well. How confusing would it be to have to talk about another Sherlock? Would you really want to be confused with hearing that Sherlock needs his nappy changed?"

"There is that," conceded Sherlock with a wry smile.

"Speaking of nappies," chimed in Lori, who had obviously been listening to the exchange, "I think Victoria needs to be changed." She picked up the little girl from the playpen and handed her to Sherlock, rather than Molly, who grinned impishly.

Sherlock wrinkled his nose at the foul odour emanating from his daughter's nappy. Since New Year's Eve, where he had popped a booby prize balloon that said he had to change the next five dirty nappies without complaint, Sherlock had subsequently made a bargain with Molly. He would be more diligent about keeping his desk tidy and remembering to put dirty utensils and crockery in the sink, if she would change Victoria's dirty nappies anytime she happened to be around. It was a bit unfair to Molly really. At the beginning of their marriage, he had made a supreme effort to keep things neat and tidy, but, his nature was to be a little sloppy, and he had gradually become lax when it came to that. He gave Molly a pleading look and she sighed, taking the baby off of him. Victoria, as if in a little act of revenge, tugged hard at one of his curls as Molly did so, eliciting a little yelp from him.

"That's what you get for trying to get out of nappy duty," commented Greg sagely, and Sherlock didn't bother to respond. Another set of footsteps was coming up the stairs, a little slower this time, and he knew it was Mrs. Hudson. She had been invited to hear the blow-by-blow description of Sherlock and John's latest case.

Shortly after Mrs. Hudson was ushered in, the Watson family arrived. Victoria, now changed and back in her playpen, was joined by Rosie who happily played with her "cousin", handing her the blocks to put in the puzzle. Sherlock really enjoyed seeing the interaction of the two little girls. He hoped they would grow up to be close friends.

Molly, Lori and Mrs. Hudson of course made a fuss of the newest little Watson, who had an extremely vocal pair of lungs and the blonde hair of his father. Sherlock had to push down a slight feeling of jealousy that his own daughter was now taking second place to the newest baby, but he remembered Molly's words from a few months earlier at Christmas, when she had told him that babies tended to be the centre of attention. Victoria was a one-year-old now, after all. Of course, Sherlock reflected, as a slight smile crossed his lips, in a few more months his own new baby would become the centre of attention.

Once drinks were organised for everyone, the bowl of crisps was passed around as they waited for the sausage rolls to be ready.

John raised an eyebrow as he took a handful of the crisps. "You and Molly seem to have a thing about this particular flavour of crisps, don't you?" he commented idly.

Sherlock and Molly exchanged amused glances. Their antics involving smoky bacon crisps and a rather passionate encounter against a tree in a secluded wooded area on their honeymoon would always be their secret. It was true, however, that the purchase of that particular flavour always brought back those lovely reminders, and it was like Sherlock and Molly's secret little joke with one another. That was indeed a very sexy picnic time, mused Sherlock.

"I absolutely love these chips - I mean, crisps," amended the former American, Lori, as she too took a handful of them. "We don't get that flavour in America. Boy, are they missing out on the greatest tasting one!"

"I'm a roast chicken flavour man, myself," said Greg, nonetheless taking his own handful.

"Another flavour they could do with in America," noted Lori.

Once the sausage rolls were ready, Molly put them on a large platter and people helped themselves, even as Sherlock and John narrated the whole story of the case John had deemed "The Red-Headed League," as he planned to call it in his blog.

Sherlock pursed his lips when John related with great gusto that he had been the one to nudge Sherlock awake when the thieves had made their way into the bank vault.

"With all due respect," Sherlock protested, "Victoria had had a bad night the night before, and I was up for half of it." Actually that was not quite true. Molly had been suffering from her first bout of constant morning sickness, in the way she had experienced with Victoria on occasion, where she was getting sick every twenty minutes, and he was keeping her supplied with Ritz crackers and flat lemonade as he had done for her in her first pregnancy.

John's eyebrows rose. "And you think I'm not up half the night with a two month old?" was his counter, and Sherlock smiled sheepishly.

The women laughed at that as well, and Greg proceeded to relate his part of the tale, in having police officers on standby who were ready to go in as soon as Sherlock or John notified him that the thieves had set foot in the bank vault, so they could be caught in the act.

Sherlock knew that Molly had been a little concerned about the danger, but he and John had worn bullet-proof vests supplied by New Scotland Yard, and they had also both been armed. In the end, it had been easy to take care of the two would-be criminals who were not expecting anyone to be waiting for them inside the vault. They hadn't even had a chance to take out their own weapons before John had trained his gun on them while Sherlock made the call to Lestrade.

Sherlock and John were actually due to receive quite a nice reward as a result of subverting the bank robbery attempt.

After the story had been told, Sherlock looked at Molly, who was seated beside him and squeezed her hand. "Well, what do you say?" he whispered in her ear.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and murmured, "You can tell them."

Author's note: So sorry to make you wait for Sherlock and Molly to share their news. As often happens, I start out, think I'm writing a one-shot, and I get carried away. Once I realized I was at 4500 words, I decided to split it into two parts, and actually added more stuff into the second half. I know some people like long chapters, but I prefer to keep them under 4000 words, under 3000 if possible, just so it makes for quicker reading.

If you are a fan of the classic ACD stories, I'm sure you will be aware that I drew on one of his stories a little with "The Red-headed League" to create an authentic case Sherlock and John had been on. I hope it worked within the context of the story! So, post-humous credit goes to that wonderful gentleman who created Sherlock Holmes to begin with.

In any case, I do hope you are enjoying this further glimpse into Sherlock and Molly's future, with proof of what I alluded to in my Christmas story.

In this chapter, there are references to events that happened in both A Journey to Love, Faith and Marriage, (the cat investigation) and A Honeymoon Journey, (The smoky bacon crisps picnic scene). As a reader, do you enjoy the way I refer to earlier stories? If you have not read them, does it pique your interest and make you want to read them?

To give you a little idea of how thorough I am when it comes to researching, I actually ordered crisps from England through Amazon. That smoky bacon flavour really is out of this world!

Oh, and please be aware that this story is premised at being May, 2019, which is my personal timeline for the events of Sherrinford taking place two years earlier. I know it's weird, because the season aired at the beginning of 2017, but I only watched it in the summer of 2017, so I kind of altered the timeline in order to publish "real-time" stories for pregnant Molly.

Anyway, please stand by for the conclusion. Reviews/follows/favourites always appreciated.