"Little boy, you are a busy bee today," Molly commented as she felt the baby within give another kick. Molly could picture their son, very much his father's boy, all mop-top curls and poking into things, babbling about post-mortems and mathematical equations before he's even in school, he'd master some classical instrument, a smart-mouth spouting exactly what he thought, and everyone would nod and say: 'Yes, that's Sherlock's son,'.
"Boy?" Sherlock called from his place on the sofa. He got off the couch with a flourish, his robe flapping as he came to stand by her. "What do you mean, 'boy'?"
"Obviously, it's a boy," Molly sniffed.
"How do you know?"
"Mother's instinct," she shrugged. Sherlock blew at the curls on his forehead, rolling his eyes. Molly only shrugged, soothing the small of her back which was beginning to take the brunt of the weight she carried. Sherlock noticed and guided her to the sofa to help.
"You disagree that it's a boy," Molly said as Sherlock got up, having rubbed her back for a sufficient amount of time (almost thirty minutes).
"Naturally. The way you're carrying, lower on your hips, obviously it's a girl."
"Don't be silly, that's an old wives tale."
"Humph. I've done plenty of research, and anyway there's more fact behind it than 'mother's instinct'."
"You laugh all you want, this child is a boy."
"Girl," he answered neatly. She tossed a tea-towel at his face.
"It's a boy you great lug, and I can't wait to see the look on your face when the doctor proves you wrong on Monday."
"Monday?"
"Baby scan, Sherlock. I have an appointment, we'll get the first pictures of our son."
"Daughter," he corrected."
"Son," he slipped his arms around her from behind, cradling her belly in his hands.
"Daughter," he pressed her neck and then her cheek. "You'll see. I am never wrong."
"About murders, Sherlock, not babies."
"Humph."
The week passed slowly as they anticipated the upcoming baby scan. Every now and again Molly would receive a text while at work:
It's a girl. SH
You're a girl. And it's a boy. – MollyH
When he'd stop by with her lunch order (as it was the least he could do since she was doing most of the legwork in the baby-making department) he'd press her cheek.
"Have you found out what the sex is?" Greg asked after Molly greeted him.
"It's a girl-"
"Boy-" Sherlock and Molly spoke at once and then turned, annoyed at the other.
"Molly is of the rather wrong opinion of the child being a boy," Sherlock sniffed.
"I'm telling you, I am carrying a boy, I can feel it in my bones, I am going to give birth to a son, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, so don't you tell me otherwise!"
"Very well," he kissed her forehead, looking at Greg over her shoulder. "It's a girl," he mouthed and Lestrade just shook his head, chuckling.
Monday, Doctor's Office
Molly, having donned the cotton gown the nurse provided her with, hefted herself onto the bed and lay back.
"Are you comfortable Mrs. Holmes?"
"Yes thank you," there was an incessant pounding on the door.
"Molly! Molly, let me in, the case is finished!"
"That's my husband," Molly said apologetically to the startled nurse. "He can come in." The door was opened and Sherlock burst through, out of breath. "How was it?" she asked.
"Marvelous, lovely, the nun killed four, stopped her before she got to the children, have you learned anything? You're wrong aren't you? It's a girl," he kissed her forehead. "Not your fault, obviously, you haven't done all the research, sentiment get's the best of us, of course. You want a son, so naturally-"
"Sherlock, they haven't done the scan yet, we're just waiting for the doctor." He seemed annoyed at this.
"Oh. Very well." The nurse, befuddled, headed for the door.
"The doctor will be in shortly," she said and excused herself.
The room was quiet, so Molly took the opportunity to rest her eyes. While she did so, Sherlock thought of what the scan would reveal, obviously, a girl. A girl that would grow to look exactly like her mummy, with brown hair and large, warm eyes. He could easily see Molly carrying their daughter, both of them in twee sweaters and singing those insipid pop songs that Molly loved so much.
At last the doctor came and ran through how the scan worked and what to expect.
"Yes, we know all that," Sherlock snapped.
"He's just nervous," Molly said with a shrug and the doctor nodded.
"I'm just putting a dab of gel, it'll be cold," he warned. "And we'll fire up the baby-finder,"
Molly reached for Sherlock's hand, both of them willing the screen to boot up already. After what seemed like an eternity, the screen winked on, and they could see a blurry image.
"Well, well!" the doctor laughed, he moved the transducer over her belly. "You said you were experiencing quite a bit of movement, Mrs. Holmes?"
"Yes," she gripped Sherlock's hand. God, what if something was wrong?
"Here's your answer, it's not just one moving down there it's two!"
"What?!" both Sherlock and Molly gasped.
"You heard correctly, you're carrying twins!" Sherlock and Molly both stared at the monitor, trying to wrap their heads around this news. "Now," the doctor said. "Would you care to know what sex they are?"
Sherlock and Molly both answered at once:
"Boy!"
"Girl!"
"In this case, you're both correct, a son and daughter, and they look right on schedule," the doctor said. "I'll send these images down to be printed," he continued. "And a copy of the sonogram on dvd for you, I expect you'll want to show your family,"
"Yes," Sherlock answered, somewhat absentmindedly as he stared at the screen. The doctor excused himself, leaving them alone for a moment and Sherlock at last bent and kissed her gently.
"I told you it was a boy," she said with a laugh.
"And I told you it was a girl."
"Seems we're both right."
"So it seems."
They showed the sonogram video to John and Mary that weekend, and Sherlock proudly claimed that he'd been right all along about their having a girl, and that it was his knowledge and research that proved him right, though he did agree there was something to be said for a mother's intuition, because, well, Molly was right too, she'd be giving birth to a son after all.