There's definitely a bit of a divide between those who think Molly is in the wrong and those who think Sherlock is. Personally I think they're both to blame but I'm enjoying exploring Sherlock being hurt and upset about not being told the baby was his. Either way I've enjoyed reading your comments and theories and I just hope you like how I'm handling it.

Chapter 10

It took them a couple of minutes but they finally got themselves and the baby and the bags upstairs and into Sherlock's flat where Mrs Hudson had, as anticipated, cleaned the room to within an inch of its life. She'd also laid out tea and biscuits which Molly was very grateful for.

Sherlock took his son out of the car seat and placed him into the waiting arms of Mrs Hudson before moving to the kitchen to pour himself and Molly a drink. He knew he needed to talk to Molly but he also knew there was no point trying to hurry Mrs H when a baby was in the room.

'Oh Molly, he's perfect. And look Sherlock he's got your eyes.'

Sherlock almost dropped the teapot. He spun around and looked at his landlady with astonishment written all over his face. Mrs Hudson saw his shock and just tutted, shaking her head.

'Oh you didn't think I wouldn't work it out did you? Nine months ago you were high as a kite and staying out, doing all sorts of things you wouldn't normally let yourself do and I seem to remember Molly's name cropping up in conversation an awful lot….well, until that nasty Smith man caught your attention. Then a couple of months later Molly's pregnant and not saying who the father is. I didn't need to be a Consulting Detective to work that one out.'

Molly and Sherlock glanced at each other and then looked away and Mrs Hudson looked back and forth between them before passing the baby back to Molly.

'Oh, I see….I think you two need to have a little talk in private don't you. I'll be downstairs if you need me.'

She closed the door behind her as she left and they were finally alone together.

It was Molly who spoke first, her voice tremulous. 'Sh..Sherlock, I don't know what to say.'

He had his back to her as he replied, pretending to concentrate on making the cups of tea. 'How about explaining why you felt it was something I shouldn't know?'

He heard her intake of breath at his harsh tone and he felt guilty for hurting her but he was hurting himself and his natural instinct in that situation was to lash out first and think later.

'I…I wanted to, I thought about it. You know I did. But…I didn't even know where to start, you didn't seem to even remember us being together, I wasn't even sure you'd believe me…I mean, it still seems unreal and unbelievable to me and I remember it.'

This at least was something he could latch on to…he needed information and so he picked up the cups and took them over to the side table by his and John's chairs. He sat down in his normal spot and gestured for Molly to come and sit in John's chair. She did, still holding his son, who was now sleeping peacefully in her arms.

'Tell me.'

He saw her colour up but she told him all about how he'd come to her room and into her bed. She glossed over some of the narrative but he wasn't looking for sordid details just dates, times, conversations.

'I tried to talk to you the next time I saw you but you were obviously high and you were dismissive, didn't even recollect it. I hoped the memories might come back to you but you never, ever made mention of it and so I….I gave up.'

He winced a little at the sorrow in her voice, realising for the first time just how much he must have hurt her.

She gave a mocking kind of laugh. 'I thought it was all over until a few weeks later when I realised I hadn't had my period. It's ironic…I had just taken the test and was making myself a cup of lemon tea when…' her voice broke and realisation washed over Sherlock and it made him sit up.

'You ignored my call…you said you were having a bad day…'

'Well, I was…I'd just found out I was pregnant with your child and you had no idea and no desire to either be with me or be a father. I was staring down the barrel of life as a single mum and then you rang.'

'I…I'm sorry Molly, you know I am. I can't unsay what I said or undo what she made me do.'

'I know…but it still hurt.'

They sat in silence for a moment until the baby started to wriggle and nuzzle at Molly's breast.

'I…umm…I need to try and feed him. I should…'

Sherlock stood up and buttoned his jacket. 'No, you stay where you are. Is there anything you need?'

'Just one of those muslin squares in the nappy bag. Sherlock…do you…can you ever forgive me?'

He walked over and found the item in question passing it over to Molly who was biting her lip pensively.

'I won't pretend I'm not hurt Molly because I am…but you've forgiven me so much, not least the fact that I didn't even remember our night together, that I can't deny you the same privilege. I…just… I need some time.'

She nodded her head and he made his way through to his bedroom leaving her in peace.

Molly lifted her shirt and unclipped her nursing bra and tried to get her son to latch on. She'd managed it once in the hospital but that had been with the help of one of the nursing staff and even then it had been a lot more painful than she'd been expecting.

His little mouth rooted about at her nipple but for the life of her she just couldn't seem to get him to latch on and she got more and more frustrated at he started to cry in earnest. She hadn't expected something so basic and natural to be so hard. She turned him and tried again with her other breast and finally after a couple more minutes he latched on but she winced in pain with every pull and suck that he made. Her nipples felt so unbelievably tender and sore and as she fed him on one side she was leaking from the other, trying to mop it up with the muslin. No one had told her that motherhood would be so difficult and messy. As he finally finished feeding he started crying all over again and she was comforting him and trying to wind him even as she tried to redress herself but it was a struggle.

Without having heard him come back in Sherlock was by her side and lifting the baby away from her. She blushed at the realisation that she was still partly exposed but he turned away without a word and walked up and down patting his son's back and chatting to him whilst Molly sorted herself out.

As she stood he turned to her and quirked his mouth up on one side. 'You aren't alone in this Molly…just remember that. Now why don't you go and have a lie down in my room whilst I look after him for a bit.'

She nodded gratefully. She had to admit she was feeling exhausted and their conversation had taken it out of her emotionally. She felt almost close to tears as she picked up her cold cup of tea.

As she made her way into the kitchen Sherlock followed with a now sleepy baby.

'So, have you had any thoughts about a name for him?'

She brushed a tear away quickly. 'Umm…yes. I fancied Matthew…after my dad, you know? We could use a name from your family as well if you wanted? What do you think?'

He tilted his head and looked at his son. 'Hmm, maybe we could use my father's name as well…Matthew Sigur Holmes..or should it be Matthew Sigur Hamish Holmes?'

Molly frowned in confusion and looked at him queryingly. 'Hamish?'

Sherlock chuckled. 'John's middle name…he once told me it would be a good baby name.'

'Oh…does he…'

Sherlock shook his head. 'No, not yet. Just you, Mycroft and myself…oh and Mrs Hudson apparently.' He rolled his eyes. 'Now go and rest. Matthew and I will be fine…I think.'

Molly smiled but made her way into his bedroom. It was only when she was in there that she realised it was the one room in his flat that she had never been in before. She closed the door shut behind her and let out a breath that she hadn't fully realised she'd been holding on to. His room smelt like him, his cologne, his essence. It looked like she'd imagined his room to be, sparse, masculine…a periodic table on the wall; his furniture expensive and understated. She wanted to open his wardrobe and touch his clothes and she had to stifle a giggle, knowing that somehow if she did it he'd know.

Well, the worst was over. He knew now and he'd accepted it surprisingly well. Maybe they could actually do this…parent Matty together. She tried to imagine them raising their son over the years but it just made her want to cry. She bit her lip and shut her eyes. The thought of being so close to him and yet so distant was physically painful. She wanted to feel his lips on hers once more, his hands on her body. Lust rolled over her and it almost knocked her to her knees. She had never expected to feel so aroused so soon after having a baby but she did as post-birth hormones swamped her body and she ached to have him inside her once more.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was surprised at how natural it felt having Molly and his son in his flat over the next week or so. Molly moved into John's room upstairs and Matthew or Matty as Molly insisted on calling him, spent time either up there with her or in the front room…that was when Mrs Hudson didn't sneak him off down to her flat which she did with surprising regularity. When Molly mentioned that she didn't have to have him so much she just shushed her. 'I've never had a baby in my house before, just let me enjoy it. It's almost like having my own grandson what with him being Sherlock's. He's always been as good as a son to me…most of the time at least.' She winked as she said that last bit and Sherlock gave her a lopsided smile in return.

Molly continued to struggle to feed Matty and Sherlock had taken to preparing a bottle as she tried knowing that he might have to carry on feeding him when the pain got too much. He mentioned it to John, but he had had little insight as Mary hadn't really had any problems feeding Rosie.

It was during John's first visit to see Matthew since Molly had left hospital. He'd left Rosie with his sister not wanting the extra distraction on his first visit. He'd brought some of Rosie's old clothes and toys with him and they'd all spent an awkward ten minutes together; Molly trying to signal Sherlock with her eyes about telling John he was the father before she finally left the room on the excuse that she'd have to feed him.

It was then that Sherlock had asked John about breastfeeding and as that conversation dried up John looked at him with a bemused expression.

'You're being awfully hands on with Molly's baby. Are you sure you're not getting broody?'

'Don't be ridiculous John. Anyway, I think it's normal to be hands on when you're the father isn't it?'

John snorted. 'Yes, when you're the father but you aren't.'

The room went silent as Sherlock just held John's gaze until the shorter man shifted in his chair and frowned.

'Because you aren't the father Sherlock….or am I missing something?'

'Yes, well it seems we were both missing something; in your case intelligence and in my case memories. It seems that I was missing some time periods when I had that relapse into drugs last year.'

'And what? You took advantage of Molly when you were high on drugs.'

Sherlock's hands fisted at John automatically jumping to the worst possible conclusion.

'No, God John, what do you take me for? It was consensual, she just didn't know I was high at the time and I didn't fully remember what we'd done…that's a long way from your inference and neither of us, I might add, have any regrets.'

He stood and walked around the back of the chair to glance out of the window before continuing. 'Well, that's not entirely true…' he cleared his throat and John leant forward looking at him intently. 'I do regret the fact that I don't have clearer memories. It feels like it's the sort of thing you should remember don't you think, conceiving a child?'

John nodded his head. 'Yes, yes I suppose it is. Wow, so you're a dad. I never thought the day would come. And you and Molly?'

Sherlock turned away and wondered for a moment if he should tell John about his feelings for Molly but he could just imagine how John would react, trying to force him into declaring them to Molly and pushing them into a relationship that they might not be ready for. They…he was still adjusting to being a parent. He needed more time…not too much more, but just a little more. Plus he didn't want to put any more pressure on Molly that she already had.

'Molly and I are fine, we're friends…good friends and that's all.'

John slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. 'Well then, congratulations Sherlock.'

He held out his hand to his best friend and as to the two of them shook neither of them noticed the baby monitor relaying their conversation up to Molly upstairs.

I hope the pace isn't too slow here, I just feel they both need time before feelings are built in. I'm also trying to be real about the breast feeding. It's really hard for some people. I was lucky and managed it with both my boys but if I hadn't had a lot of support in hospital in the first week I don't think I would ever have managed it.

And I couldn't resist having Mrs Hudson know without being told, she's a smart cookie that one ;).