Daddy Holmes

Sherlock stood in the doorframe to the bedroom, staring adoringly at his wife in their bed. Molly was reading on her side of the bed propped up against the headboard, knees tucked to her chest and the book lying in her lap. Her brown hair was down in loose ringlets and her face show a soft glow. His heart soften at the sight and he found that natural look (without any make-up) on Molly irresistible. Her eyes speed back and forth across the pages, obviously engrossed in whatever novel she was reading.

Just beautiful! Sherlock thought.

Finally Molly felt his eyes searing into her and she looked up. She hitched one eyebrow up, tilting her head slightly sending him a questioning look; Sherlock only smiles.

"Sherlock," she started.

"Mmm," he answered.

"Do you think you would still love me if I was bigger?"

Oh, oh. Sherlock and his limited knowledge about women tells him that he was just thrown into shark infested waters and that the next words out of his mouth would either send him a life raft or make him sleep on the sofa for the next few days. He stared at her, completely puzzled at her random and totally ludicrous question.

When her face didn't give anything away, Sherlock strode over to her side of the bed. He swatted her right knee in order for her to open her legs so that he could slip in and lay between them. She shut her book, placed it on her bedside table and slid down the headboard that Sherlock could lay comfortably on her stomach between her legs. His hands spread themselves over the bare skin of her abdomen where is purple shirt that she had stolen on their first night spent together at Baker Street had ridden up, his chin coming to rest on his fingers.

"Molly," he slowly began, "I would and will love you no matter what you look like because you," he stopped to move his hands and peck the warm softness of her stomach, "are the light to my darkness." Another peck. "And you are the love of my life."

Molly's lips twitched up in a smile and she said, "Oh you're good Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock chuckled and rubbed his face over her stomach. She giggled that angelic sound that had become Sherlock's favorite sound while she thrashed around begging him to stop.

"Why would you ask such a random and ridiculous question?" He asked when he finally decided to have mercy and let her breath.

"Well, I am getting bigger."

Sherlock stared at her again completely befuddled, searching for the right words.

"Molly," he began, grabbing one of her hands, pulling it to his mouth to graze a kiss upon her knuckles, "you are not by any means getting uhm...fat."

"You say that now…" Molly chuckled, finally telling him what she means. "I...am...pregnant.!

Her brown eyes searched for any sign of reaction in his face, Sherlock just laid there completely rigid. After a few seconds she even realized he had stopped breathing.

"Sherlock, breath!" she tried to jolt him out of his shock by cupping either sides of his face. Finally, when she thought she was about to combust due to nerves; a huge toothy, unique, only reserved for Molly type smile spread across Sherlock's face.

"We're going to have a baby?" Sherlock whispered.

Molly smiled back just as wide and nodded. Sherlock started to pepper her stomach again with feather light kisses all around her belly button. She began giggling softly. He stopped suddenly, stared at down at her tummy and started to talk.

"Hello in there, my little bee. I'm your daddy."

Molly smiled widely and stifled a chuckle. Sherlock looked up after murmuring what had to be a short story into her stomach, stared into her eyes and said, "I love you so much Molly Holmes."

Molly ran a hand through Sherlock's curls and whispered, "We love you too, Daddy Holmes."