Month Seven
Sherlock woke up early. He went to the kitchen to put the kettle on and then took a quick shower and got dressed. The suit would have to be changed later on but for now Molly had to think everything was normal. He checked her room to make sure she was still asleep. Her hair fell on the pillow, tangled up and shining with the little bit of light that came from the ceiling window. She was sleeping on her side instead of sleeping with the belly down – the size of the belly did not allow her to sleep on her favourite position anymore – and looked peaceful. Sherlock knew she would not wake up so early. They had stayed up late the day before, making a list of things that were necessary for the baby and that Molly would buy during the week. It was her birthday today and, when midnight passed, Sherlock had looked at his wristwatch and planted a kiss on her cheek. She looked at him surprised but it all made sense when he said 'happy birthday'. She had smiled and stretched her arms to the sky, tired. She was pleased and they had talked for a few more hours about everything: her childhood, her favourite birthday, and presents she remembered. The nice thing about her was that, if you would let her share things and listen, she was an open book, no secrets. Sherlock liked that. She was honest. Unlike him, she did not try to conceal anything.
Sherlock closed the door of the room and went downstairs, to arrange everything with Mrs. Hudson. The two women had agreed, with a little hint from Sherlock to Mrs. Hudson, in going shopping for the baby. Molly, with Mrs. Hudson suggestion, seemed very excited. It was clear she was a little lost about all the things that needed buying. With Mrs. Hudson offer for help she also seemed to relax a little and the two of them started to talk about clothes and strollers and Sherlock's brain had turned off. His plan was set in motion and that was all that matters. Now it was just making sure Mrs. Hudson powers of persuasion would keep Molly out of the house for quite a few hours. It should all be fine.
Mrs. Hudson was already up and dressed when Sherlock knocked on her door.
"Oh, hello, dear. Is Molly ready already?" She asked.
"Not yet Mrs. Hudson, that's why I came downstairs. Are you sure you know everything you need to do?"
"Well, how hard can it be?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "It's not very difficult to keep a woman out of the house when it is to go shopping. We are going to have so much fun." Mrs. Hudson seemed even more excited than Molly.
"Okay, then."
Sherlock smiled, looking to Mrs. Hudson's face. It was pride he saw there. Proud of him.
When they had told Mrs. Hudson they were expecting a baby, the landlady hadn't made any questions, as if that was the most natural thing, even if Sherlock and Molly had never assumed to have a relationship. Mrs. Hudson had congratulated them and offered help in anything they needed. This was one of the things Sherlock loved about her. She could be discreet when necessary.
"I am going back upstairs. John is coming over as well; I am waiting for Molly to get out of the house to call him."
He then gave a tender kiss on Mrs. Hudson cheek and smiled, turning away from her. Mrs. Hudson smiled. Those two, Sherlock and Molly, made such a nice couple, only the two of them couldn't see it. Or, better said, Sherlock would not see it. Mrs. Hudson was sure Molly was in love with Sherlock since the first time she had laid eyes on the way Molly looked at him. She smiled and started to make some tea. That was going to be an amazing day!
Molly woke up a few hours later and got on her back on the bed, stretching herself. The position was not comfortable, however, and she moved again. It took her a moment to realise which day it was. Then she smiled, looking at the protuberance on the blankets from her beautiful round belly. She caressed it, feeling the baby move, and got up. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was huge. All her old clothes had been kept in a corner of the closet and now pregnant clothes were her day to day outfit. Comfortable shoes were also a must wear as her feet tended to swollen during the day. She looked through the clothes she had bought and found the one she had been looking for. A beautiful, colourful mummy-dress, that would cover her round belly but felt comfortable to her. The days were now warmer and it seemed to be beautiful outside, going by the light that came through the window. She got dressed and after brushing her hair she decided to let it loose. She would tie it up if she felt it was necessary during the day. Mrs. Hudson must be waiting for her.
She came down the stairs and found Sherlock sitting on the sofa, fully dressed.
"Good morning." She said, smiling at him.
"Hello." He said. "There's tea for you. Mrs. Hudson came asking for you, I would say she is very excited you two are going out today."
Molly helped herself to some tea and bread with jam. She felt an unusual need to eat sweet things in the last couple of months.
"It was a wonderful idea!" Molly said. "I am going to need help and Mrs. Hudson seems to know a lot about babies and clothes and what not. And she is always so nice to me."
She ate her toast, enjoying the flavour on her mouth. Thank god the morning sickness had gone forever; she did not want to waste such a nice breakfast. Sherlock got up and picked his wallet and came sit next to her.
"Here." He said, extending her a card. "Take my card."
Molly looked at him, caught by surprise.
"No, Sherlock." She refused. "I can't take that."
"You have no choice." Sherlock said and, as she would not take it, he placed the card on her hand. "The expenses are not only yours. You have been buying quite a few clothes for yourself because you need it, and I am the father. I don't need new clothes, but I do owe for the rest."
Molly felt self-conscious.
"I have been putting a few more weight and the old clothes don't fit anymore, that's why I have been buying new clothes. And my belly is quite big for my old clothes anyway."
She seemed a little upset and Sherlock did not understand why. He continued.
"Yes. Anyway, take the card and buy whatever you want. It's also my birthday present. "
Molly smiled and nodded, knowing there was nothing else she could do to make him stop insisting on that matter. She would take his card but he didn't think, for a second, that she would use it. She would use her own. Little did she know Sherlock had taken her card out of her purse already, so she really would have no choice but to pay with his. She would then want to pay back, but that just wouldn't happen.
"Oh, and there's also this." He said, delivering a coupon from a store.
Molly picked it up.
"This is a lot of money. And this store is one of the best stores for children' clothes."
"Don't look at me like that, it's not mine. It's Mycroft's. He insisted. And it's a present, so you can't give it back. He said it is his little treat for his nephew or niece. He would like a girl, he pointed out, but he will be pleased either way."
Sherlock smiled at her, remembering the conversation with Mycroft. He had never seen his brother so happy, even after all the questions and congratulations because Sherlock was no longer a… Well, that part Sherlock wanted to erase from his memory. He had realised his brother was as happy as he hadn't seen him in a long time, and that gave him some sort of a secret satisfaction.
Molly finished her toast and the tea and got up. Sherlock looked at her from head to toe.
"What?" She asked, feeling self-conscious again.
He scoffed.
"Nothing."
"Sherlock Holmes." Molly said, as he turned around. "Don't you dare laugh at me and leave."
"I wasn't laughing at you." He said, turning around with the same smirk on his face. "I like the dress."
Molly put her hand on her hip.
"Are you making fun of me?"
He laughed this time.
"No!" He said. "I am serious. The dress. It looks nice. It's very pretty. It looks very good on you."
There was a sincerity in his eyes that Molly couldn't help but notice. He meant it.
"Oh, well. Thank you. I don't feel very comfortable with clothes that are not this large and it's warm outside. I like it."
She took a look at herself. She did feel good today. Maybe it was the way the dress fit on her, or just because it was her birthday, but she was happy. She didn't always feel like that. Sometimes, when she came back from work, tired and with her feet swollen, her stomach as if there was a bowling ball stuck in it, her back so hurt that all she wanted was to stretch on the couch and never get up, and sweating from the warm weather that had finally embraced London, she felt terrible. All she wanted most days was to take a shower and stay there forever, without looking at herself in the mirror.
Sherlock was now looking outside the window, stroking the violin strings absentmindedly. Molly grabbed her purse and put the card there, along with the coupon from Mycroft. That had been nice of him. He had visited once and, unlike his natural self, had been very kind to her. The environment, that usually was heavy when he and Sherlock were together, was quite relaxed and that surprised her. Maybe the changes that baby would make didn't just stop at her and Sherlock.
"Okay, I am leaving now." She said. "I am not sure what time I do return."
"Don't worry. You have all the time you want. Just don't forget we have to go to Mycroft's around eight."
"Oh, I won't be out so long." And she walked out of the door.
Sherlock waited until her and Mrs. Hudson left the flat and picked up a cab, and he then dialled the two numbers. First, John. Then, searching through his phone contacts again, his old acquaintance and graffiti artist, Raz.