"Rise and shine, sleepyhead," came Sherlock's voice, and Molly opened her eyes.

She yawned and stretched, taking in the sight of Sherlock carrying a tray with breakfast items on it even as Victoria climbed onto the bed.

She looked over at the Moses basket, where Christina was still peacefully sleeping.

It was no wonder. The baby had had a bad night, which meant Molly had as well. Christina had woken in the middle of the night as usual, and Molly had fed her, but as soon as she had replaced her in the Moses basket, she had cried until Molly had picked her up again and held her. She had held Christina until her eyes closed and attempted to put her into the Moses basket again, with the same result. This had happened four times until the baby had finally stayed asleep.

Perhaps it had been because of the long nap Christina had had the previous day. Molly was relieved she wasn't scheduled for work until next week. Initially, she had been planning to only do two days, but had discussed it with Sherlock. With the shortage of doctors and nurses in general, because of the coronavirus concerns and how quickly it was spreading, they had agreed Molly could do an extra day. Every little bit would help. She would be working Monday, Thursday and Friday next week.

Victoria crawled up to Molly and started to tug the covers down so she could scramble beneath. Molly hastily stopped her, conscious of the fact that she wasn't wearing anything aside from her maternity bra. At least she wasn't completely naked, she supposed.

Instead, she sat up, keeping the duvet firmly tucked around her bottom half and gave Victoria a hug and kiss. Her daughter was already dressed. Apparently Sherlock had been busy taking care of not only getting breakfast but seeing to their daughter's needs as well.

"Good morning, princess," she said, after releasing Victoria, then looking over at Sherlock. "What's with the breakfast in bed?"

He rolled his eyes. "Doesn't my wife deserve breakfast in bed on her birthday?"

"Oh." She blinked. She really hadn't thought much about her birthday coming up. One day had been blurring into another this week with them staying inside. Sherlock had not allowed her to leave the house, insisting he be the one to take the only trip outside to get a few groceries.

The one exception had been the previous night when England had united in having people stand on the doorsteps of their houses to applaud the tireless efforts of the frontline NHS workers during this difficult time. Social media had promoted this special event, and Molly had seen the information about in on Facebook. She and Sherlock had left the girls inside because they were too young to understand what was going on. Molly had felt tears come to her eyes, listening to the sounds of people clapping up and down the street in recognition of her colleagues in the medical profession. She felt proud that she would be joining their efforts on Monday. There had even been fireworks set off. The sense of community had been incredible.

Aside from that one bright point in the week, with no church on Sunday to start the week, one day was just like another; it was so strange.

Sherlock placed the tray carefully on the bed, then reached to take Victoria off of it. "Mummy has to eat her breakfast," he said. Victoria looked decidedly unimpressed at being forcibly removed from her mother's side.

Having succeeded in putting her down, Sherlock picked up the tray and bent over to place it on Molly's lap, offering her a kiss as he did so. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

"Thanks, honey." Molly looked at the tray. She was quite impressed. Sherlock had managed to fry the bacon so it was crispy, just the way she liked it. Even the scrambled eggs looked decent. He'd also buttered the toast on which he had placed the eggs and added some ketchup to them just the way she liked it. There was also the requisite morning cup of coffee.

She cut off a piece of the toast and scrambled eggs and took a tentative bite. Sherlock had even remembered to add curry powder, the way she liked to flavour her eggs. He'd been a little heavy-handed, but still, she was really impressed.

Sherlock was holding Victoria and looking over at her expectantly.

She swallowed the first mouthful. "It's really good, Sherlock. I'm so proud of you. You've mastered the art of cooking breakfast."

He grinned. "I can't promise I'll ever master the art of making any other meal. I'm going to go back downstairs for now. I made some extra for Victoria and myself, and it will get cold fast."

"Alright. Thanks so much for this. You always manage to surprise me."

A sound came from the Moses basket, and Molly sighed inwardly. So much for eating her breakfast while it was still hot. She moved to set aside the tray, but Sherlock's stern voice stopped her.

"No, you don't, Molly. I will take Christina downstairs with me, and you can finish your breakfast in peace. I'll just put her in the swing for now; that might keep her calm until you are dressed and downstairs."

He set Victoria down and moved over to extract Christina from the Moses basket, placing his finger in her mouth. Molly had tried to get her to use a dummy, but Christina was as obstinate as Victoria had been when offered one. She just spit it out.

Molly watched in amusement as Sherlock pulled his finger away, keeping Christina cradled in one arm and scooping up Victoria in his other. Their older daughter was able to climb the stairs by herself when the baby gate was open, but was not yet able to go back down.

Molly still remembered the first time Victoria had noticed an unlatched gate. Molly had been carrying a load of washing downstairs and had forgotten to latch it again. When she had come out of the utility room, it was to find Victoria at the stairs. Molly had watched as her daughter pulled herself up the first step, then looked back at her mother with a little smirk, as if challenging her to stop her ascent, which of course Molly had promptly done.

When Sherlock arrived home later from Baker Street, where he had being doing some of his weekly consultations, he had suggested that, seeing as Victoria was curious, Molly let their daughter start climbing the stairs, making sure to keep right behind her as she did so. Molly had followed his advice and, within a month, Victoria was able to climb up the stairs, one at a time, without any trouble.

The baby gates had been one of the first things Sherlock had installed when they had bought the house, as well as other childproof measures. Victoria was now at that curious age where she would have been looking in every cupboard if they didn't have the special latches to keep them from being opened by little fingers.

At least she couldn't yet open doors, and the bathroom doors were kept firmly closed now, after one incident that had happened a few months earlier. Molly had been putting some washing in the machine and had not realised that Victoria had walked past her into the downstairs toilet. To this day, Molly was still not sure whether Victoria had deliberately dropped her Detective Pusheen toy into the toilet, or if it had fallen in there. She just knew that Victoria had immediately burst into tears, and Molly had extracted the object from the water, wrinkling her nose as she did so. She was inclined to throw away the little toy, but it was Victoria's favourite, aside from her teddy bear. So into the washing machine had gone the toy. It had survived, but was not quite as soft and cuddly as it had been before.

Molly continued to eat her breakfast, reminiscing about how much Victoria had grown in such a short time. She was still delighted that Victoria had begun to call her Mummy on Valentine's Day and had continued to do so since.

The sound of escalating crying from downstairs alerted Molly to the fact that Christina was hungry, and she quickly finished eating, gulped the rest of her coffee, then hurriedly got dressed.

She took the tray downstairs and put it on the kitchen island, then went in the front room to see Sherlock desperately trying to entertain Christina with a session of peek-a-boo, even as Victoria was mimicking him. Christina, however, was not to be appeased.

Sherlock looked up in relief as Molly entered. "Oh, thank God. You'd think we were starving her. I think she may turn out to be an opera singer with those lungs."

Molly grinned and took the baby out of the swing. "It's okay, lovey," she crooned to the baby, taking up her usual position on the sofa with a cushion to support the arm which cradled Christina so she could begin feeding. "There is breast milk in the freezer, you know," she told Sherlock.

"I'm aware of that, but by the time I would have thawed it, you would have been downstairs. Besides, I don't want to use it up when I'll be needing it while you are at work next week."

"Fair enough."

Victoria tugged on Sherlock's arm. "Tubby, Daddy," she said, pointing at the television.

"What?" He turned to look at Molly. "Do you know what she's talking about?"

"She wants to watch the Teletubbies show on television."

Sherlock frowned. "Is that the name of that show with those inane creatures that spend all their time saying 'uh-oh' and 'again'?"

Molly grinned despite herself. "That's the one. She likes it, and I've put on a couple episodes from BBC iPlayer this week for her."

"Why did I not know this before?"

"I think you were at the supermarket the one time and upstairs on your laptop, the other."

He brought the remote over to Molly and sat next to her. "Seeing as you know what she has been watching, I'll let you take care of it."

Molly took the remote from him and selected the third episode from series one. There were over 50 episodes available to watch, so it would keep Victoria entertained for a long time.

Sherlock pointedly kept his gaze anywhere but at the televisions as the show began, and Victoria clapped her hands in delight. "So, how should we celebrate your birthday, Molly?"

Her lips twisted slightly. "It's not like we can go out anywhere, is it? I'm quite happy to remain thirty-nine."

He huffed. "Well, I for one, am glad to see you join me in the same decade."

"In that case, I guess you'll have to think of ways of pampering me. There are always massages, bubble baths, that kind of thing." She gave him a mischievous look. "Not to mention all those delightful things you are so good at in the bedroom."

He smirked. "Hush, not in front of the children."

"Very funny."

"Seriously, I will be only too happy to provide you with a massage later, and a bubble bath as well, if our daughters cooperate. Bedroom activity goes without saying."

Molly smiled. "Good enough for me. Don't forget, you promised we could watch Dr. Strange together too. He resembles you a little, and I'd like to see a whole film about him. He's a fascinating character."

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. "Are you trying to make me jealous with yet another man you find attractive? First Leonardo DiCaprio, then you subject me to constant gushing about Chris Hemsworth and how much better-looking he is with long hair, not to mention Adam Driver. Will I be hearing you wax philosophical on how handsome Dr. Strange is next?"

Molly gave him a wicked smile. "Maybe." At Sherlock's pout, she added, "but no man will ever compare remotely to you, my gorgeous husband. I can acknowledge that a man is good-looking without it meaning he even comes close to you."

"Well, I suppose I'd rather watch the film with you so you can't gossip too much with Kayla or one of your other friends about how gorgeous the man is. I know how you women get with your celebrity crushes."

Molly giggled. "It's all in fun, honey."

"It had better be. Remember, I'm the father of your children. I am also extremely possessive."

Molly rolled her eyes. That green-eyed monster of his could be a bit much sometimes. She switched Christina to her other breast and said, "Well then, bring those sexy lips over here, and I'll prove you're the only man for me."

Sherlock complied, and she enjoyed those lips thoroughly as always. She wouldn't trade Sherlock for any other man in the world.

When the television programme ended, Sherlock turned off the television, much to Victoria's irritation, judging by the frown on her face. He was firm, however, and brought out a puzzle for them to assemble together while Molly lifted Christina to her shoulder to burp her. No burp was forthcoming on this occasion, which did happen at times, but Christina was content to be put in her bouncer.

Molly's phone rang and she saw it was Kayla.

"Good morning, Kayla," she said into the phone.

"Morning, Molly. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday and welcome you to the forties club."

Molly grinned. Kayla had turned forty a few months earlier. "Well, thanks. So, does life begin at forty as the old saying goes?"

Kayla chuckled. "Doesn't feel any different than before, if you ask me. Ready to go back to work on Monday? I can't get over how crazy things have become in such a short time."

"I know." Molly looked over at Sherlock, who was glancing between the puzzle and her. "Yes, I'm all set to do my part. I don't know how long Bart's will remain coronavirus free, but we'll see what happens."

"Thought you might like to share some news with Sherlock." Her voice sobered suddenly, and Molly felt a slight prickle of apprehensions. "John received one of those emails from the General Medical Council last week about returning to work during this crisis. We've been discussing it and praying about it, and he believes it is something he should do. He has the time, now that he and Sherlock are not doing investigations."

"Oh, I completely understand. This situation is unprecedented, and I'm sure people will benefit from John returning to work as a doctor temporarily." She deliberately used words that would immediately inform Sherlock about what was going on, and she saw the slight crease between his brows, then a nod to acknowledge he had heard and understood.

"Yeah. I just wish I could have answered the call that went out for volunteers too. If I didn't have two young children at home, I would have been out there in a heartbeat."

"Being a care-giver is just as important right now," Molly assured her friend. "I wouldn't be able to go back to work if Sherlock couldn't be here to watch the girls. So when is John going to go back?"

"Sometime next week, probably Monday like you. His former doctor's practice has already said they could use his help." Molly heard John's voice indistinctly in the background. "John said to wish you a happy birthday too, and he's sorry about the party."

Molly's brows drew together. "Party? What party?" She looked over at Sherlock, who gave her a rather guilty look.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, We thought he'd tell you about it when it had to be cancelled."

"Well, he didn't." Molly looked again at Sherlock, who looked decidedly uncomfortable. "I'd better get going. I think my husband has some explaining to do," she told her friend.

"Don't be cross with him, Molly. I think it's lovely he was planning to give you a special celebration. Enjoy the rest of your day, okay?"

"I will. Thanks for calling, Kayla, and thank John for his good wishes as well. Keep safe."

"We will. You too. Bye now."

Molly disconnected the call and looked at Sherlock, who had studiously returned to doing the puzzle. "Look, Victoria, see how this piece goes right here?"

Molly walked over and knelt beside Sherlock. "I told you I wanted to have a quiet celebration for my birthday, Sherlock. What is this about a party?" She pursed her lips.

Sherlock's gaze flicked up, then back down. "I thought it would be a good excuse for all of our friends to get together. Mummy and Daddy were even going to come." He gave her a sheepish look. "How can I help it if I want to show off my attractive, sexy wife who looks far younger than her years?"

Molly felt her irritation dissolve. Sherlock was very good at defusing situations. How could she be cross when he constantly referred to her as sexy?

"Alright, I forgive you. I know your heart was in the right place. I assume the quiet dinner you had told me we were going to have tomorrow when my Mum was going to babysit is when the party would have occurred?"

"Yes. But when all restaurants were ordered to close, I got an email from Angelo's letting me know they were refunding my deposit and that they hope I will book the function room again in the future."

"Look, Daddy, Mummy," said Victoria, pointing proudly at the puzzle piece she had just correctly inserted.

"Great job, Victoria," said Molly, moving to drop a kiss to Victoria's head, following it by one to Sherlock's cheek. "I feel bad that we can't even see my mum right now, or your parents. It's so disappointing churches are closed, and we won't get to see them for Easter now."

"Well, Mycroft bought Mummy and Daddy that iPad for Christmas, so we'll be able to at least FaceTime with them Instead - if they have figured out how to use it," he said with a slight grin.

Molly's birthday passed quietly, which was fine with her. The best way to spend a day was always with her husband and daughters.

Sherlock took out the leftover lasagna provided by Martha the previous Saturday to heat for dinner, insisting on taking care of it himself.

He even changed dirty nappies supplied by both girls. Being on breast milk alone, Christina was as likely to have a bowel movement after a feeding as have just a wet nappy, so Molly was duly impressed. Sherlock was definitely spoiling her.

After their dinner, he produced a Sainsbury's Belgian Chocolate Fudge Cake he had kept hidden and sang as he held Christina in his free arm. Victoria was in her highchair.

"Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,,

Happy birthday, darling Molly.

Happy birthday to you."

He set the cake down on the table and Molly was about to thank him when he put a finger to his lips.

"Zum Geburtstag viel Glück,

Zum Geburtstag viel Glück,

Zum Geburtstag alles Gute,

Zum Geburtstag viel Glück."

Molly grinned. Again she opened her mouth to thank Sherlock, and he put a finger to his lips. Victoria was obviously enjoying the spectacle as she clapped her hands.

"Tanti auguri a te,

Tanti auguri a te,

Tanti auguri a Molly

Tanti auguri a te!"

This time when she tried to thank him, Sherlock frowned. "I am trying to sing happy birthday in four languages, one for each ten years of your life thus far, so hush." He began to sing once more.

"Joyeux anniversaire,

Joyeux anniversaire,

Joyeux anniversaire Molly,

Joyeux anniversaire."

This time Molly clapped, as did Victoria, and Sherlock bowed, still keeping a bright-eyed Christina cradled close. How many other women could say their man had sung happy birthday to them in four languages?

"Thank you, honey, that was amazing!"

Molly rose from the table and walked to Sherlock, stretching to kiss him. Christina did a little gurgle, as if wanting to get in on the act, and Molly gave her daughter a kiss too. Of course, that meant Victoria had to receive her own kiss.

"Let me take a picture of you with the girls and your cake," said Sherlock, handing Christina over to Molly.

Molly sat next to the high chair, holding Christina, and Sherlock took several photos, then reached out his arm to get a selfie of the four of them.

Molly looked at the photo on his phone screen. "I'll have to post that on Facebook. Send it to my phone," she said, smiling at the cheesy grins she and Sherlock sported.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's just as well you have your profile set for only friends and family to see. I would not want the public seeing all those pictures you insist on posting."

Molly pursed her lips and held up Christina. "Our daughters are very photogenic, and I like posting pictures of them."

"Well, as long as it makes you happy, sweetheart."

"It does."

Sherlock cut the cake for them to enjoy. Victoria too seemed to enjoy her little piece.

After dinner, they returned to the front room. Christina was ready for another feeding, and Sherlock took Victoria upstairs with him. "We'll be right back," he said, giving Molly a mysterious smile.

Upon his return, Molly saw him holding a small package and Victoria a larger one. Molly hadn't even thought of birthday presents. The Disney Plus subscription had been her early birthday present. Now she remembered Sherlock had said he had something else for her for her birthday.

"Give Mummy your present," Sherlock told Victoria, who held out the present.

Molly adjusted her position so she could continue to feed Christina and unwrap the gift. She smiled at the contents. It was a mug which had the words, "This is the world's Best Mum - from Victoria and Christina."

"Thank you, darling," Molly said, as Victoria climbed to sit beside her and touch her baby sister.

"Baby," she said, having lost interest in the mug her mother was holding.

"Yes, baby," responded Molly, looking up at Sherlock. "Thanks, honey."

He smiled. "You're welcome." He took the mug and wrapping paper and put them on the coffee table, then presented his own gift.

It was obviously jewellery. Sherlock was definitely one who liked giving her jewellery on almost every occasion, not that she was complaining.

She opened the gift to find an aquamarine pendant with matching earrings. "It's lovely, Sherlock. I've never owned something with my birthstone before."

"It's getting harder to think of unique things to buy for you," he told her. "I do have one other present for you which I will give you later."

Molly looked at him enquiringly. More lingerie? She was running out of drawer space. He noticed her expression.

"Strictly a G-rated item, although you may have a fight on your hands with Victoria."

Molly furrowed her brow. What on earth could Victoria want with anything Sherlock gave her? "I guess I'll find out later then."

"That you will. For now, I am going to draw you a lovely bubble bath."

Molly protested at this. "It's too early for me to have a bath."

"Says who? You can put on your dressing gown afterwards. I still need to give you a nice massage. You know how you love those."

"You really are giving me the royal treatment," she said with a smile.

Sherlock's expression changed to one of solemnity. "Speaking of royalty, I wonder how Prince Charles is doing? Even though we have been told his symptoms are mild, he is seventy-one, which places him at higher risk for the virus progressing to something more serious."

Molly's expression became sober as well. "I can't believe how many people have not taken this pandemic seriously. My goodness, nobody is safe, the prime minister just tested positive too! I saw pictures online of young people in America and Australia on beaches, not caring at all about getting COVID-19, because they know most cases in younger people are mild. They don't even consider the fact that if they were to get the virus, they could infect loved ones without knowing it, elderly loved ones. It could be a death sentence for those people. Look at how tragic the death toll is in Italy with their higher-than-average elderly population. It's about ten percent."

Sherlock shook his head sadly. "You know, for some people it might take a wake up call like losing a beloved parent or grandparent for them to realise life is not all about parties and being selfish."

Molly shuddered slightly. "That would be a pretty drastic wake up call."

"Unfortunately, many people, young adults especially, have not been taking this situation seriously, and, despite the low odds, they are not guaranteed to have a mild case of the coronavirus. Remember a few days ago the report that a young woman with no health issues died. She was only twenty-one. Even though they just said today the official cause of death was a heart-attack, I wouldn't be surprised if it only happened because of some kind of complications arising from the virus. Aside from her, there was that twenty-eight year old man who died at the hospital where you gave birth to our daughters."

Molly sighed, thinking about how devastated the losses of young people must be to their parents. No parent wanted to outlive their child. "And to think I was there only three months ago. Thank God we had Christina before all this happened."

"That is indeed something to be thankful for. As I was saying though, even the young are not immune to this virus. There are still too many people not taking this seriously."

"You know," Molly's voice was thoughtful, "God is our father, and He wants to protect us. I'm convinced, however, that sometimes He allows us to burn our fingers on a hot stove if we refuse to listen to Him, to teach us a lesson."

"That's a good analogy. Time will tell where this leads." Sherlock took in a deep breath. "Anyway, enough sad conversation. This day was supposed to be about celebrating your birthday. I'll let you know when the bath is ready."

Molly nodded and slipped her free arm around Victoria, who was grabbing at Christina's hand as she suckled.

By the time Sherlock returned, Christina had fed herself to sleep. Molly's arm was still around Victoria, who had also dropped off.

Sherlock took Christina gently from Molly and put her in the bouncer, then lifted Victoria into his arms and sat on the sofa with her. "Go take your bath, and I'll give you a massage later."

"Sounds lovely," said Molly, heading upstairs to put her new jewellery away and luxuriate in the jasmine vanilla scented bath.

Having washed her hair the night before, Molly kept her hair out of the water and just enjoyed a good soak. Baths were definitely a rare luxury.

Feeling refreshed, she exited the bathroom and dressed in the blue satin pyjamas she wore when it was too early to go to bed after a bath or shower. She would have worn her pink chemise, but wearing a two piece pyjama set was easier with breastfeeding. She added the blue dressing gown that had once been Sherlock's and went downstairs.

In the front room, Victoria was awake. Molly wasn't sure if she had awoken by herself or if Sherlock had woken her so that she would sleep properly later. He was reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and Victoria was poking her finger through the holes in each page as he read.

"Can you say three plums, Victoria?" asked Sherlock as she put her fingers in each hole.

"Fwee pums," she responded obediently.

Molly enjoyed watching Sherlock when he read to Victoria. It was always an interactive process. She was sure Victoria was ahead of the typical curve when it came to knowing her colours and shapes because of his patience with her. At this rate, she'd be reading by the age of four. Of course, with a genius like Sherlock for a father, Molly was sure all their children would be highly perceptive and intelligent, but intelligence needed nurturing, and her husband was all about doing that with Victoria's little mind. It would be interesting to see how Christina responded to his educating skills when she was a little older.

Molly continued to watch until the book was finished. Sherlock placed Victoria into the playpen. "Now, be a good girl and play one of your musical instruments," he told her.

Molly had to smile at Sherlock's wince when Victoria followed his instruction and began the usual pressing of xylophone buttons to make sounds that were not particularly harmonic.

As she played, and Christina continued sleeping through the cacophony of sound, Sherlock eased the dressing gown off Molly's shoulders and gave her his usual thorough massage. His fingers could always find the places that were most tense, and she sighed with pleasure as he soothed the little knots away. This was definitely an amazing birthday.

Following the massage, Molly decided that Dr. Strange could wait until another day. She didn't want to see any comparisons between Sherlock and the actor who played the character. It would only make Sherlock jealous if she made a comment. So she made an alternative suggestion.

"Seeing as we never got to see Endgame last year because of my unpredictable morning sickness, why don't we watch that tonight once we put Victoria to bed?"

He looked at her enquiringly. "I thought you were all excited to watch Dr. Strange."

"Changed my mind. Women do that, you know." She gave him an impish grin.

He smiled and brushed a brief kiss to her lips. "Endgame it is, then."

And indeed, once Victoria had been tucked into her cot for the night, Molly finally got to see the conclusion to the Avengers saga. She deliberately refrained from making any comments comparing Sherlock and Dr. Strange, although privately she felt Sherlock was still much better-looking, anyway.

Christina only interrupted the film once with the usual feeding demand, and Molly fed her while watching anyway, so it wasn't a big inconvenience.

Once the film had finished, Sherlock once again did the honours of changing the baby before the couple went upstairs with her.

He took a quick shower and returned to Molly, who had put a sleeping Christina into her Moses basket.

He walked immediately to the wardrobe and extracted something, holding it behind his back as he approached. "And now, your final birthday present," he declared, bringing the object from behind his back and presenting it to her.

Molly gasped and felt tears prick her eyes at the sight of her one-eyed childhood teddy bear with the drawn on replacement eye. "Mr. Teddy! How on earth did you find him? I was sure he'd been donated years ago."

She looked over at the enormous pink teddy beside the bed that had been a Valentine gift from Sherlock.

"After Valentine's Day, I spoke with your mother one day when you were getting dinner ready. I explained about your bear and asked if she knew what had happened to him. She told me she had put it away in a box when you were at university. She's had him all this time, never had a clue you missed him, because you said nothing. I picked him up on the way home from Baker Street a couple days later and have been hiding him since then."

Molly gulped. "I was sure she had got rid of him." She hugged the teddy bear close to her chest. She felt rather silly for never asking her mother what had happened to him.

Tears spilled from her eyes. "I didn't think you could make this birthday any better, but you did. Thank you, Sherlock. I love you so much."

He bent over and set his lips to hers briefly, then said, "I just hope this bear won't come between us, Molly. Your birthday isn't quite over yet, and I'd like to end it with a bang that both of us will enjoy."

She let out a sigh of pure happiness, put the precious bear carefully beside her and pulled Sherlock down so she could kiss him properly.

And Sherlock put the proverbial cherry on top of the ice cream to give Molly not only an unforgettable birthday, but night as well.

But then, every day and night was unforgettable with her ridiculously adorable, loving husband.

Author's note: Had a lot to get through. Sorry this one-shot is so lengthy! It ended up being longer still because I added in the part about people applauding the efforts of the NHS last night in the UK. I have to thank 2 of my English friends for telling me about it - THEONEWITHWHEELSASH and Wandering Soprano. I have also been reading stories and listening to broadcasts in the UK to make sure all my facts are up-to-date.

A lot of people are not taking this pandemic seriously, and I hope Sherlock and Molly's discussion helps people understand it is not to be taken lightly. It's world-changing, like it or not. Yes, young people are less likely to die, but it can happen, folks! Are you willing to gamble your future and that of loved ones by ignoring what your government is saying to try and protect you and others?

International readers - how is your country dealing with this? Is your government doing enough?

As for the story itself today, I hope you continue to enjoy the furthering of my storyline. My regular readers will know the backstory about Mr. Teddy if they read A Valentine Treasure Hunt. When I eventually publish my 2019 storyline, it will give further context. Unfortunately, I am not sure when I will get to publish it with this new COVID-19 sub-series I'm writing, which is my priority right now. It's more challenging to write "on-the-fly" like this so that I can keep the story as close to reality on what is happening at the time. So, your support with those follows, favourites and feedback is always appreciated. Take the first step of showing kindness to your favourite authors by supporting them!

Are there other characters you would like me to write about so you can see how they are doing during this time?

Incidentally, I chose this day for Molly's birthday, as it also happens to be Loo Brealey's (although she is turning 41)