A/N: I wrote this because this scene in my head wouldn't leave me. Everyone needs a bit of lighthearted, happy Sherlolly fluff once in a while. Hence. x
Mine
Various bolsters and pillows.
Small mannequins at the shops.
Beanbags of varying shapes and weights.
Large hot water-bottles.
Those had not quite done the trick.
Today, he had decided to practice with a small sack of apples when John walked in on him, gobsmacked.
"What are you doing?" asked John as he observed the tall and lean detective attempting to wrestle this small sack of fruit into a comfortable, set position in his arms.
"Practice, John. But I can't find the right…thing." Sherlock muttered while shifting the bag of apples about, lifting his elbows uncomfortably as he distributed the weight.
"Apples are certainly not the way, Sherlock." said John as he slyly snapped a picture to send to Mary.
"Perhaps I should just try the hospital tomorrow…"
"No….no!" John exclaimed, "Sherlock Holmes, nicking body parts is one thing but if I catch you nicking — …"
"Oh, do relax, John," said Sherlock as he precariously lowered the sack of apples onto his armchair, "I won't take anything away, I just need practice."
"No." John repeated. "No hospital practice, Sherlock, you hear me? Or I willtell Molly…"
Sherlock rolled his eyes and retreated to his bedroom.
—
Today was the day and Sherlock paced outside nervously. He and Molly had decided that it was best they were in separate rooms. He had confessed that he did not want to see any type of anguish in her face. He did not want to hear any screams or see the pain in her eyes. It would have been too much for him to bear. However, he promised to be near. Just in case.
Molly agreed. She wanted to focus properly. Having him around would give her extra cause for worry. There was nothing more important to her than keeping the whole process swift and smooth. Once she was done, he could come in. Molly reminded him to stay nearby, so that he would not miss one second.
As he waited, John hurried up to him and slapped him on the back.
"Big day for you today eh, mate?" he said jovially.
"Hmm, terrifying." Sherlock muttered as he continued to pace
"Relax, Sherlock, you will be fine."
"But I've not practiced, John. How will I—"
"Sherlock," interrupted John, grabbing his friend by the shoulder, "You will be fine. Trust me on this."
"You can come in now," said the smiling nurse that opened the door to Molly's room.
Sherlock rushed in immediately and saw his beautiful wife, flushed and red in the face with beads of sweat decorating her beaming face. In her arms was a little bundle with a tiny, pink face peeking out. He gasped and stood frozen in his tracks. Molly looked up and smiled at him.
"You should come and see her…" she said, her bright eyes meeting his.
Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Sherlock moved towards Molly to give her a quick kiss on her forehead.
"Are you all right?" he whispered.
"Never better," she answered.
"That's…her…" Sherlock stared at the squirming bundle of utter sweetness in Molly's arms and was speechless.
"Here you go," Molly said, gently, raising the tiny baby up to her wide-eyed husband.
"But I've not had any prac—.."
"Just hold her, Sherlock," said Molly with a soft laugh.
Taking a deep breath to steady his hands, Sherlock reached for his baby daughter as Molly carefully placed her in his arms. Immediately, Sherlock's mind spun, analysing and calculating.
The neck is soft.
His hand automatically cupped the little baby at its neck, giving it the right support.
The head is heavy but the skull is not fully solid.
He kept the fingers that cradled the small, pink head as gentle as possible, his fingertips only lightly touching the skin of the baby's scalp.
The spine is still flexible, spinal muscles still soft.
Sherlock moved the baby close to his body, using his chest to prop the rest of the baby's weight.
"I told you you'd be fine," said John, nodding proudly at his friend.
Sherlock looked down at the angelic little face that stared back at him and studied it. She had her mother's eyes, that was for sure. He was amazed that after waiting nine whole months, this was the little heartbeat that grew and grew each day inside Molly. Molly was his, and so was this lovely little girl.
"So…" Molly said, placing her hand on Sherlock's arm, "What do you want to call her?"
With his eyes fixed on the sweet little face before him, Sherlock smiled and gently kissed the baby's forehead.
"Mine," he whispered.
End