Molly's pregnancy progressed fairly normally. She was more tired than she'd ever felt, and achy. Just before Christmas, Sherlock arranged a time, and two burly movers showed up at her flat, placing the cradle and dresser into her room and making room for the changing table in the sitting room. Slowly, she started buying all the things she would need for her son, who still didn't have a name.

She asked Mary to be at the birth with her, since she had few friends. Mary agreed, and everything was all set. She was due mid-March, and by the beginning of February she was as ready as she thought she could be.

Right up until she went into labor at the end of February, while Mary and John were on a much needed vacation.

Molly paced the sitting room of her flat, timing her contractions. She'd already spoken to the doctor, who said that since she was only two weeks early, and the pregnancy had been going well, that they would just let everything progress naturally. Her contractions were still ten minutes apart.

"Leave it to my son to decide to be impatient!" she said, checking her watch again. "Mary and John can't possibly get back from their trip before this is all over, what am I going to do?" She paced a bit more, muttering aloud to herself and getting more and more worked up. Eventually, she picked up her phone, thumbing through her contacts. She really didn't want to face this alone. She had girlfriends, but none that she thought could drop everything and come sit with her at the hospital.

As she reached the end of the alphabet, her eyes fell upon Sherlock Holmes' name. She set the phone down. Did she really want Sherlock Holmes to be with her during labor and delivery of her son? Would he even show up? Was she that desperate?

He answered on the second ring, which surprised her. "Molly?" he said. "Everything okay?"

At this, Molly finally lost all the composure she was trying to keep. "No, no Sherlock everything is NOT okay. I'm in labor and John and Mary are still in America and I don't want to have this baby all alone. Could you..could you come to the hospital and keep me company? You don't have to ...do anything. Or be there when I deliver, or ...oh god, I'm so scared, Sherlock." by the end she was sobbing, trying to catch her breath and calm down.

"I'm already on my way, Molly. Where are you?"

"I'm still at home, I think I have a little more time before I need to go to the hospital." she closed her eyes, trying to calm down.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes. Hold tight."

Molly fixed herself a snack, knowing they wouldn't let her eat once she got to the hospital. She got her hospital bag out and set it on the sofa. She'd packed it weeks ago.

Sherlock arrived, looking almost as nervous as she was. "How far apart are your contractions, Molly?"

Molly looked down at her watch. "About six minutes. We could probably head to the hospital now."

Sherlock picked up her bag and turned to the door. "Okay, I told the cab to wait, just in case." He disappeared out the door, and Molly gathered up her handbag and keys, locking the door behind her.

In the cab, she texted a few people, including John and Mary, but mostly sat quietly. Another contraction hit her, and she gasped and reached for Sherlock's hand instinctively, squeezing it. Once the contraction passed and she realized what she was doing, she pulled her hand back. "Sorry." she said, blushing.

"It's okay, Molly. I don't mind. I wouldn't have come if I didn't want to."

Molly considered that for a moment, and decided it was true. Sherlock Holmes almost never did anything he didn't want to do.

At the hospital it took a few minutes of explaining that no, Sherlock was not the father, but he would be helping her out. They got her into a room and soon it was a flurry of doctors and nurses surrounding her, poking and prodding. Sherlock sat on a chair up next to the bed, holding her hand and distracting her. He dug around on his phone and put some soothing violin music on.

"Sherlock, that's you playing, isn't it?" Molly asked after a few moments.

"Yes. It's the piece I wrote for Amanda and played at her Christening."

Molly closed her eyes and let the music take her away until the next contraction hit.

Molly's labor moved quickly. It was only about six hours before the doctor came in for another check and announced "We're getting close to pushing time, Molly. Are you ready?"

Molly laughed. "Would it matter if I weren't?" She turned to Sherlock. "You don't have to stay for this part, if you don't want to."

Sherlock looked at Molly, and at the doctor. "I'll stay. I'll stay up here, though." She was pretty sure he'd blushed that time.

Molly smiled "Thank you, Sherlock. This means the world to me."

After about 45 minutes of pushing, Molly heard the cry of her son, and the doctor wrapped him in a blanket and laid him on her chest. She gazed down at him, wondering how it was even possible to fall in love so fast. Sherlock tentatively reached out a finger, stroking the side of his face. "Good job, Molly Hooper."

Molly smiled down at her son. Yes, she had indeed done a very good job.

By the evening, things had settled into a quiet scene. The baby had been washed, and looked over, and Molly had nursed somewhat successfully. Sherlock had left and gone and got himself some food in the canteen, but he'd come back afterwards, even though Molly insisted he didn't have to. "I'll stay for a little while longer, I feel bad that Mary and John couldn't be here." He snapped a bunch of pictures of the baby, and of Molly and the baby, and Molly even talked him into holding him so she could get a picture of the two of them.

At some point she fell asleep. Sherlock gathered up his coat and scarf, and left his mobile number with the nurses. "Call me if she needs anything." he said, and made his way home.

Molly woke a few times in the night to feed her son, and noticed that Sherlock had left. She was incredibly thankful that he had stayed with her as long as he did.

In the morning, one of the hospital clerks came in. "We need to do the birth certificate, dear. Did you have a name yet?"

Molly bit her lower lip. She'd been pretty sure of the name right up until Sherlock had been so lovely with her yesterday. Now she wasn't quite sure. Pondering for another few moments, she took the form from the clerk and wrote in her son's name. It was a bit awkward when she refused to name the baby's father, but eventually the clerk left and a little while later, one of the nurses came in with a little sign for the cradle pulled up next to her bed, with her son's new name on it.

Around lunchtime, Sherlock came into the room. He smiled at Molly and walked over to them. Molly had the baby dozing in the crook of her arm. It was then that he looked down at the plastic cradle and saw the name tag.

William Donovan James Hooper

He quickly turned and stared at Molly, a question in his eyes. She smiled at him. "Yes, Sherlock."

"How did you...know?"

Molly had to laugh at this. "Sherlock, I signed your death certificate. I've known for a while now."

Sherlock tilted his head. "Yes, I suppose so. Thank you."

"No, Sherlock, thank you. If you hadn't been here, I'd have had to bring Will into the world all by myself. I'm incredibly grateful that you were able to be there for us."

Sherlock pulled up a chair and sat down. "When are they going to let you go home?"

"Later today, if everything continues to go well. He's eating fine and he's healthy and so am I. I'm really anxious to get home and get settled."

Sherlock nodded. "Do you want me to stay?"

Molly blinked. "You don't have to stay, the nurses are doing a good job of taking care of us. I'm sure you have something more important to do."

Sherlock opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "Well, if you don't need me." he said, standing up. He picked up his coat and got halfway to the door before Molly spoke up.

"Sherlock? Do you WANT to stay?"

Sherlock turned and looked at her. "Only if you don't mind."

Molly smiled. "I don't mind."

While Will slept, Sherlock told Molly about his most recent case, and Molly mindlessly stroked her son's head and belly, gazing down at him, sleeping soundly in her lap. He woke and started fussing.

"Oh, Sherlock, I need to, um, nurse him."

"Okay."

Molly turned red. "Well, I'm new at this and it'll take me a few minutes to get him settled and…"

"Oh! You're being shy about me seeing your breasts. Right. Okay. I'll step out into the hallway, call for me when you'd like me to come back."

"Thanks." said Molly, still blushing. "This is all new to me."

She opened her hospital gown and spent a few moments getting Will to latch on, and then covered herself up as best she could, tucking a blanket around Will. She didn't want to cover him completely, she was still so amazed at the sight of her son. But he was latched on well and there wasn't much to see of her small breast anyway. She called Sherlock back in.

It was after dinner before the doctors finally said Molly could go home. Sherlock took care of calling a cab with a baby seat, and before they knew it, Molly was carrying Will into their home. She tucked Will into the smaller rocking cradle she'd purchased to keep in the sitting room, and turned to Sherlock.

"Sherlock, thank you so much for everything. You've been a huge help, and I really appreciate it." She reached up to hug him. He froze, letting her hug him but not returning the hug. This didn't surprise her - he hadn't returned John's hug at his and Mary's wedding, either.

After a moment she let go and stood back. Sherlock smiled down at her, and then stepped around her to Will. He bent down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, and then turned to Molly, kissing her forehead as well. "You will make a lovely family, Molly. Text me if you need me."

And then he was gone, and Molly turned to her son. "Well, here we are, then!"