Hey, what a response to my first chapter. You guys really do love a pregnancylock don't you! So glad you're all on board with this and I just hope I can keep you loving it.

As for who the father is there only seemed to be one name given on the whole though one person did vote for Mycroft. Personally I'm saying nothing, you'll just have to read on to find out…won't be revealed just yet though.

Chapter 2

Molly finally emerged from her bedroom with her damp hair up in a loose bun, wearing fleecy pyjamas and blushing furiously.

'Sorry, I hope you don't mind...' she indicated to her outfit, '...I just wanted to be comfortable. I probably ought to start buying myself some maternity wear but I've been so tired after work that I haven't really got around to anything else.'

'It's just your hormones. Your body is building the baby in the first sixteen weeks and it's taking all the best nutrients for that activity and leaving you the left overs. You'll feel better in a week or so, once the baby is just growing the tiredness and sickness tends to ease off.'

Molly sat next to him on the settee and literally gawped at him.

He frowned. 'What? Mary told me all this stuff when she was pregnant.'

'And you kept it...you didn't delete it?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know, it seemed useful information to have...and given that you are now pregnant I was right. Now eat, you need some calories in you even if they aren't particularly nutritious...we can work on that when you've regained the weight you've lost.'

Molly chuckled. 'I've never seen you like this before.'

He turned to her. 'Like what?'

It was her turn to shrug as she put a chip into her mouth. 'I don't know...caring.'

Sherlock felt a little hurt and was quiet for a moment but then he started to feel guilty, maybe he didn't show her enough that he cared.

'I...I do care about you Molly.'

'I know, as a friend, it's just nice to see it in action sometimes.'

He left soon after they'd finished the chips, he knew how tired she was and he didn't want to outstay his welcome but he couldn't help but feel a bit down as he walked back to his flat. He even went so far as to pick up some cigarettes on the way. He'd done well to get himself off the drugs but it had meant that he'd fallen back into smoking as a crutch and he figured he needed to give himself a break before he tackled that habit. He hated remembering that time on drugs, not that he could actually remember that much, there were huge gaps and he hated not knowing what he'd done. It had all been worth it in the end though.

'Go to hell...' that's what Mary had said, he had had to go to hell to save John Watson and so he had. He'd gone back into his own personal hell and he'd hated every second of it. His only concession had been using Bill Wiggins to make and control his supply. If he had to do drugs he could at least make sure they were pure and that he was taking a regulated dose. Bill had proved himself to be invaluable and in return Sherlock was now paying his way through college, helping him get the education he deserved. He'd see him through university as well when it came to it, he'd miss having him on the streets though but he knew it was the right thing to do. Even he recognised that he'd come a long way from his early days with John, back then he would have used Bill and never given a thought to what he could do to help him...but now...now he was glad to be different. He needed people around him who cared about him and who he cared for in return.

He flicked the cigarette away as he turned onto Montague Street and he let himself into his empty flat.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

It was a couple of weeks later before Sherlock saw Molly again, not because he was avoiding her or anything but because he'd ended up travelling up to Scotland for a case. He did get a text from her though just before he left thanking him for the chips and also for the bag of groceries that Billy had just delivered. It gave him a warm feeling inside when he received it but it was just about the only thing that cheered him up over that fortnight. He had had to go alone as John couldn't get cover for Rosie at such short notice and he was sure the lack of someone to talk to was why it took him so long to work out the thief in the case. He came back feeling angry and dissatisfied even though the client was more than happy with the result.

He was grateful to Lestrade for immediately passing him the details of a murder case and he threw himself into it, viewing the body in situ before making his way to Barts to oversee the autopsy and tests. Then he was disgruntled all over again at Molly not being allowed to carry out the autopsy.

'You know why I can't do it, it's a health and safety requirement because I'm pregnant.'

'Well, I wish you weren't!'

As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them. He swirled around to see Molly white faced and visibly upset and he immediately took a step towards her, aching when she likewise stepped back and away from him.

'No, Molly, that's not what I meant. I just mean I wish you could still do the work, you're the best and...and I'm just frustrated. I...I'm sorry Molly, please forgive me.'

She took a shaky breath and swallowed heavily, her hand on her belly again, almost as if to protect her baby from him and rightfully so. He could have kicked himself for being so insensitive.

'Molly...please...'

He had such a sudden flashback to that phone call that he had to forcibly bring himself back to the present day, he hated remembering how often he had hurt her.

She waved him off. 'It's fine, it's OK, I know you didn't mean it.' She sounded so sad though that he knew she was just saying it to appease him. Once again he'd hurt the one person who mattered the most to him. He needed to find the father and make him pay...literally as well as metaphorically. He resolved to track down Molly's best friend, Meena, maybe she'd have some information.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

He found her in the cafeteria during her lunch break and he sat down opposite her.

'Meena.'

She made a point of exaggeratedly looking behind her and he rolled his eyes at her pantomime performance.

'Sorry, are you talking to me.'

'Obviously, unless you know someone else at this table called Meena.'

'Only I don't think you've ever actually acknowledged my existence before, even when I've been with Molly and we've both said hello.'

'That would be because I never needed anything from you before to make it worth my while acknowledging you.'

'Nice...charming...just proves my point that I don't know what Molly sees in you. You're an arse.'

He smirked. 'Well at least that's something we can agree on.'

'So, what is it that the great Consulting Detective needs from little old me?'

Even Sherlock recognised the sarcasm dripping from her words but he ignored it and cut straight to the point.

'The father of Molly's baby, who is it?'

Meena took a moment to finish chewing some food before answering. 'How should I know? And even if I did why would I ever tell you?'

'You'd tell me because I care about Molly and I hate seeing her having to go through this pregnancy alone, she should be being supported.'

'So support her then.'

'What?'

'If you're her friend and you care about her as you say you do...you should support her rather than trying to track down some guy that Molly probably doesn't even want to see again.'

Sherlock sighed and narrowed his eyes, taking a moment to really look at the woman before him. He could read many things about her but dishonesty didn't seem to be prevalent. She didn't appear to be keeping anything from him.

'So she hasn't given you any hints about who he is or how they got together?'

Meena put her fork down on her empty plate and wiped her mouth with a napkin before leaning back in her chair. 'Not really. She said it was unexpected, unplanned...but that's not a surprise. She did say it was a night she would never forget...she even got quite teary when she said that so I got the impression that this guy meant a lot to her...have to admit I thought it was you for a moment.'

Sherlock scoffed but indicated for her to continue.

'Other than that she just said she didn't want to burden him, that he wouldn't be interested in having a baby with her. I dunno...I wondered if he was married, but that seems so unlike Molly...you know to sleep with a married man. She's quite moral about stuff like that and I never really thought she ever be the other woman...but who knows. We all do things we regret in life.'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

When John called round to Montague Street later in the week he could hear Sherlock in the shower. It took him a moment to get Rosie settled in the play pen that the two men had set up for her so she was safe whilst they worked and then he examined the wall of pictures that Sherlock had set up near the small dining table. He wondered briefly what this landlord would make of all the pin marks in the wall but he figured Mycroft or the British government would probably cover any damages.

At a cursory glance he had assumed these were connected to the murder enquiry that Sherlock was following up for Lestrade but then he recognised a few of the faces.

When Sherlock finally appeared in his dressing gown he pointed up to them.

'Is that Dr Hodges from Oncology at Barts and Sanders from Gastroenterology? I'm sure I know a few other faces as well.'

There must have been about 25 pictures on the wall, some with a black X scrawled over their faces.

'Yes and yes and most of them are from Barts so I'm not surprised you know them.'

John felt confused. 'So, are they connected with this murder then?'

'Don't be stupid John, of course not. I'm trying to work out who might have fathered Molly's baby. Any ideas? What do you know about Hodges and Sanders? Have you seen any of them down in the morgue or the lab?'

John sighed heavily and took a moment before wandering over to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

'Sherlock, you have to know that this is wrong. If Molly wanted us to know who the father is she'd tell us. You have to stop digging before she finds out otherwise you're gonna be in serious trouble.'

'But I have to know John.'

John could see his frustration in every action and word and it just confused him further.

'But why? Why do you need to know? What difference does it make?'

Sherlock threw himself into a nearby armchair and drummed his fingers impatiently on the arms. 'I just do, I can't explain it.'

John started to pour out the water into the mugs that he'd set up. 'Try.'

Sherlock took a deep breath and John was surprised at how flushed he looked, his whole reaction here was off and it was worrying.

'I...I can't seem to get the image of Molly and this faceless man out of my head and I don't know why.'

John passed him his coffee and sat down opposite him. The chair felt wrong, as did the room. He couldn't wait for Sherlock to be able to move back to Baker St, this flat just didn't work.

He looked at his friend wallowing in all this frustration and he decided to just bite the bullet and say what he'd been thinking all along. 'Any chance you could just be plain jealous?'

Sherlock is still on the hunt for the mystery man but the big question is whether I'll get as good a reaction to this chapter as I did the first. Are you still enjoying it my lovelies?