Author's note: Thanks so much to everyone who has been following this series and supporting it with their reviews, including the guests I cannot thank personally. I did want to address the one guest review here as I cannot pm that person. I have been doing thorough research on everything that is happening in the UK. I spend hours reading the latest news on what is happening there (as well as here in America) so that I can be as accurate as possible in what I have my characters discuss. In regard to the talk of the 21-yea-old woman who died, I deliberately omitted her name. I do not think it would be right, and it may even not be legal, to have mentioned her by name. If people are curious about anything that I mention in the stories, they are certainly welcome to do a search to find articles about those situations. In fact, I encourage my readers to do so.
I have been monitoring the numbers of confirmed cases worldwide, and before I publish today, I will check my facts to see that those rising numbers remain accurate, even as we've seen the numbers now rise to over one million worldwide. I would hope that nobody out there is still underestimating how devastating this is on a global scale, how life-changing. I'm still praying that good will come out of this, that people will emerge from it changed for good, more aware of others and their needs.
For those of you who have followed this series from the beginning, I wanted to mention a little alteration I had to make to my second story, where I had talked about Bart's being a "clean" hospital. I had read an article that seemed to imply, by the "clean" comment, that it was to be kept free of coronavirus patients. It seems I may have mis-read the intent, because that is certainly not the case. In the latest update on the hospital's website, there is even information to say that pathologists are carrying out COVID-19 testing and more beds are being added to the 6th floor specifically to keep COVID-19 patients isolated from other patients. So, for the premise of my story, Molly will be one of those people administering tests. I tried to research whether the tests can be analyzed on-site, but there was no information about that, so I will presume that the tests are still sent out to special laboratories with the equipment and trained professionals to make that determination, rather than the staff members at Bart's. I want to keep things as factual as possible. If anyone out there actually has real information on exactly what is going on within St. Bart's, so I can make sure my story is as accurate as possible, please do tell me. If you are from another country and wish to say how things are going there, share it in your review so others can see it. I may just find a way to add it into this sub-series. I have no idea how long I will continue to write this one.
Anyway, sorry for the lengthy author's note. Now, settle back and surround yourself in the world of my Sherlock and Molly.
"Again," said Victoria, and Sherlock sighed. Despite his best intentions to not allow his daughter to keep watching that silly Teletubbies show, it was easier to put on episodes for her than constantly trying to deal with both her and Christina's needs.
He understood more now about the challenges of dealing with two children under the age of two. Until a couple weeks ago, he had blithely left Molly most weekdays to head to Baker Street and pursue his detective work.
Yes, he had been home more with Molly and the girls since the COVID-19 pandemic had called a halt to his own work, but he had not been alone with the girls as he was now.
Today was Friday, the third day Molly had left him to take care of their daughters while she went to work, and he was going stir crazy. Victoria was very active and required constant surveillance. She seemed to have a knack of knowing when he would be distracted because he was getting a bottle ready to feed Christina.
Earlier today, he had left the front room for five minutes to heat up a bottle of breast milk. Forgetting to put Victoria in her playpen to contain her had been a big mistake.
He had returned with the bottle to find Victoria had pulled every tissue out of the box on the coffee table. For what reason she had done this, he had no clue.
Really, he should have learned his lesson after yesterday, when he had unthinkingly left the baby wipes on the floor after changing Victoria so he could put her thankfully solid lump of poo into the toilet. He had done so, put the nappy into a plastic bag and then the kitchen bin. In the space of less than two minutes, Victoria had managed to pull half of the baby wipes out of the container and scatter them around her. The look she gave him upon his return had been distinctly devilish. She had known she was doing something naughty. She was entering the terrible twos before she reached that milestone.
Sherlock found the next episode and pressed the play button for Victoria. He looked over at the baby swing to make sure Christina was asleep, then picked up his laptop from where he had been keeping it on the mantelpiece where it was out of Victoria's reach.
Sherlock had found himself absorbed in reading articles about the coronavirus and how it was affecting countries in similar ways. Most countries had now mandated similar lockdown restrictions.
It had been a hard week for the UK, as cases escalated, but the numbers coming from America were staggering. With more than 1.064 million confirmed cases worldwide, almost a quarter of them were in America. That country was showing around 260,000 confirmed cases. New York was the epicentre with an astounding number of over 84,000 cases, more than twice the number of confirmed cases in the UK. The death toll rates still showed that Italy, which admittedly was further along in its journey through the pandemic, was now at over 14,500, displaying a confirmed cases to death ratio of over 10%. Even his vast mind palace could not comprehend that kind of devastation. It was like something out of a horror film, yet it was reality.
There were some promising reports coming through, though, that he had read about. Researchers were trying to develop a test to detect antibodies that would show if a person had been infected with the virus and recovered, particularly those who had done so without even knowing they had had it. As a graduate chemist himself, Sherlock found these types of articles especially fascinating. He would have enjoyed being able to do research on it himself, if he had access to samples of COVID-19 and a fully equipped lab. If he had still been single, that would have been a different story, and he would have jumped at the chance to be a part of these potentially life-saving efforts. However, he was married with two children who required supervision, because Molly was putting in time herself to help with the NHS. So this was something he would have to leave in the hands of others.
There were clinical trials being done on whether Chloroquine and hydroxychloroquine could be an effective treatment for COVID-19.
Clinical trials were also beginning in various countries for a potential vaccine. But even if successful, the timeline on a vaccine was still projected at 12 to 18 months away, which was why the social distancing measures to slow the spread of the virus was so critical. With the shortage of ventilators to help with the respiratory distress that was such an issue with this disease, slowing that spread was critical. Hospitals in many places were already filled to capacity and overflowing. The NHS was slowly cancelling non life-threatening elective surgeries to make beds available for COVID-19 patients. The sixth floor of St. Barts, which usually had 16 beds, was being transitioned to an intensive care unit that would hopefully soon be equipped to treat 70 COVID-19 patients, keeping them isolated from the floors with patients suffering from other illnesses.
Sherlock had read a very informative article that showed a model suggesting that without social distancing guidelines being in place, each person infected with the virus would, in the average five-day incubation period before symptoms manifested, infect 2.5 other people. Using an equation to suggest those people in turn infected the same amount of people, in 30 days, the number of infected people as a result of that initial person with the COVID-19, would be 400. On the other hand, it was estimated that with social distancing measures, where social exposure was reduced by 50%, an infected person was likely to infect only 1.5 others. Using the same scale of measuring, in 30 days, the amount of people infected was only 15.
This number further reduced when there was a 75% reduction in social exposure. In 5 days, the initial person could be expected to infect .625 people. Under the same guidelines, at the end of 30 days, the amount of people infected as a result of the first person was only 2.5 people.
Sherlock had bookmarked that particular article and had Molly put it onto her Facebook page to alert others. He had also called John and had him do the same on his blog.
It had been good to have a reason to call John and see how he and his family were doing. John had said things at the doctor's practice he had returned to temporarily were very busy. Most regular patients of the practice were cancelling routine visits in favour of virtual ones, and he was assisting with those, more than physically seeing patients. The phone was constantly ringing with people who had questions about the virus, and he was also fielding those calls and giving advice.
Adam Watson's first birthday had been a quite one, when Sherlock had asked John about it. Obviously there was no way to have a party. Sherlock and Molly had mailed a cheque for him, in lieu of a birthday gift, and John had thanked Sherlock for the sentiment. Molly, of course, had been the one to make the suggestion they send a cheque. Kayla and Rosie were fine, but, not surprisingly, missing seeing people regularly.
Last night, Sherlock and Molly had stood outside, this time with Victoria, and joined in with another session of clapping for NHS workers. Thus time Sherlock had felt Molly's pride at being one of those active workers, and he had felt that same pride for her.
Afterwards, they had returned inside and made a FaceTime call to John and Kayla. Sherlock had seen tears come to Molly's eyes as they talked with their friends and caught up properly for half an hour, with both mothers bringing the children into the picture. Rosie and Victoria had even waved at each other, which had been a rather endearing thing to watch. Modern technology really was an amazing thing.
Now, Sherlock had just finished reading an article from two days earlier that talked about the youngest UK victim of COVID-19 to date, a 13-year-old boy, when his phone rang. Sherlock extracted his phone from his pocket and saw it was Mycroft.
"Hello, Mycroft. If you are asking whether I have been keeping in touch with Mummy and Daddy, I can tell you that Molly and I spoke to them last night via FaceTime after we spoke with John and his family. They seem to be in good spirits."
"It is not about that, Sherlock." Mycroft's cleared his throat. "I wanted to share some unfortunate news, but I don't want you to be worried."
Before Mycroft even had a chance to explain, Sherlock knew what it had to be, and didn't let him explain. "You've tested positive for COVID-19." He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat.
"I might have known you would deduce that before I had a chance to tell you." His brother's voice was dry. Then he coughed and continued. "Look, I wanted you to know that I am self-isolating at home. My symptoms are quite mild. It began a few days ago with a persistent fever. As soon as I developed it, I removed myself to the main guest bedroom to reduce the chances of transmitting it to Elizabeth."
"Is she okay?" asked Sherlock quietly.
"She had a test done, and it came out negative, thankfully, according to her text."
"That's good to hear. Do you still have a fever? Have you experienced any shortness of breath?" asked Sherlock in concern. He had read comprehensively about the virus and its common symptoms. "Have you lost your sense of smell and taste? Are you just taking Panadol rather than anti-inflammatories? I have read there have been several studies that suggest those can exacerbate the condition." He rattled off the questions quickly, then waited for Mycroft's response.
"Sherlock, I too have been keeping a watchful eye on the symptoms of the virus. Actually, the loss of my sense of smell and taste was one of the things, besides the fever, that made me think I may have the virus. I am only experiencing very mild shortness of breath, although I do have a little chest pain at times when I take a deep one. I am also aware of the studies regarding the possible negative effects of taking anti-inflammatory medication and have indeed only been taking Panadol. I am actually feeling a lot better today than I was three days ago, so I think I may be over the worst."
Sherlock let out a sigh of relief. "Glad to hear it. But why didn't you let me know about this earlier? Molly and I would have been praying for you if we had known."
"To be frank, Sherlock, I did not wish to alarm you unnecessarily. I know you told me Molly was returning to work, and I am sure that is worrisome enough. You do not need any additional stress."
Sherlock frowned and glanced over at Victoria, who was placidly watching her television programme. Those silly creatures were all excited to watch a video for the second time. Ugh. He returned his attention to the phone call. "Molly is one of the pathologist who is administering tests for COVID-19. She did the training for it on Monday and began administering them yesterday. So yes, I'm stressed about her safety, but she tells me the hospital is taking every necessary precaution to keep their employees safe from the virus, having them wear gloves and face masks. So I put my trust in that, and God, that she will remain healthy. But you're my brother, Mycroft. Of course I would have wished to know sooner. As I said, I could have been praying for you. Have you told Mummy and Daddy?" If Mycroft had, he was sure their parents would have mentioned something about it the night before.
He knew by the short silence before his brother spoke, that his suspicions were correct. "I didn't want them to worry unduly. As I said, I feel I am already a little better.."
"Mycroft, we are a family! If one of them was infected, or even if it happened to Molly, wouldn't you be cross if you were not immediately informed?"
Mycroft sighed, "I suppose so. Very well, I will let them know this evening." He coughed again.
"So, how are you dealing with the self-isolation? How are you getting food?"
"Sammy has been making meals and leaving them in front of the bedroom door, then knocking to let me know. When this whole thing began, I asked her to live-in for the time being, and she was agreeable to the idea, having no family of her own to worry about. She likes to feel useful."
"You're fortunate to have a housekeeper like her," observed Sherlock.
"Don't worry, I pay her extremely well to put up with me." He gave a little chuckle that turned into a cough.
Sherlock frowned at the sound of his brother coughing. It was very rare indeed for Mycroft to get sick. "And what about going to the toilet?"
"You forget, brother mine, the main guest bedroom has its own ensuite. You and Molly have used it yourself. I am most grateful I decided to make the bathroom almost as luxurious as the one attached to the master bedroom."
Sherlock couldn't help the little smile that crossed his face. He and Molly had thoroughly enjoyed themselves on the occasion they had stayed with Mycroft when Mrs. Hudson had decided to have 221 fumigated after finding a dead rat upstairs in John's old bedroom. Only weeks earlier, there had been a mouse in 221C, and she had panicked that the building was being infested with rodents. Sherlock had felt she was being a little extreme, but when Martha made her mind up about something, there was no changing it.
Molly had been pregnant with Victoria at the time, so Sherlock had asked Mycroft if they could stay with him for two nights, rather than at a hotel. Mycroft's agreement had been forthcoming, albeit reluctanty, and Sherlock thought it was probably only because of Molly's pregnancy that he had agreed.
Martha had taken herself off to visit her sister for a couple days until the fumes had dissipated.
Whether the drastic measure had been needed or not, Sherlock had not seen any type of rodent since that time.
As for those two nights in the guest bedroom, Sherlock had used the opportunity to not only enjoy some fun time in the hot tub that had been installed in the ensuite, but also in Mycroft's music room late on the first night, re-enacting a certain scene from the film Pretty Woman. Oh yes, that was a lovely memory.
He shook his head slightly. Reminiscing about intimate times with his wife was not what he should be thinking about right now.
"Well, that is convenient. I suppose you are still working remotely, even with the virus?"
"Of course. The government cannot simply shut down. One of my jobs is to keep a close eye on what measures other countries are taking to limit the spread of the virus. I have people in several countries with whom I keep in close contact. Elizabeth is doing likewise."
"Well, try not to work too hard, Mycroft. Drink plenty of hot liquids. I've heard that may also be beneficial. Do you have any idea how you may have contracted the virus?"
"Sherlock, I am in regular contact with many people. For all I know, I may have contracted it from the prime minister himself; I saw him just before he decided on the lockdown measures."
"Well, keep me apprised of the situation, Mycroft, and I mean regular reports, even if it is only a daily text to let me know what symptoms you are having. Give Elizabeth my best, and Molly and I will pray that you are back to full health very soon."
"Thank you, Sherlock. You know I don't typically go in for the whole prayers thing, but at this moment, they certainly can't hurt. I have to question though, if God is so wonderful, why all this is happening."
Sherlock gave an inward groan. He hated it when people tried to blame God for everything bad that happened in their lives. "God doesn't cause these things, Mycroft, but He does allow bad things to happen sometimes. Perhaps this situation will bring people closer to God if they consider their own mortality. You should think about it too."
"Sherlock, I am not ready for a conversation of this nature," said Mycroft, and Sherlock heard the finality in his brother's tone.
Oh well, he would keep praying for him. He suddenly remembered the conversation he and Mycroft had had several weeks earlier about Eurus. "How is Sherrinford? Eurus?"
"That is one benefit of having inmates in solitary confinement. No reported cases from the guards either. Obviously, my plans to have Eurus transferred to a different facility are on hold for the moment until this situation improves." He coughed again. "Anyway, I have been talking too long. I need to finish my cup of tea. It is undoubtedly ice cold by now. Please pass on my best wishes to Molly." He paused, then added, "And give my nieces a kiss for me. I would not be averse to receiving a recent picture of your little family."
Sherlock's eyebrows rose. It always surprised him when Mycroft showed signs of sentiment. "I have a couple photos on my phone that I took last Friday on Molly's birthday. I'll send them to you. Get well soon."
"I shall do so. Oh, and in case you were wondering, Mark is also working remotely, assisting me with my research. He is focussing on what different countries are doing in developing a possible vaccine."
"I texted him a few days ago," responded Sherlock. "I assume you told him you have the virus?"
"Naturally, he's my son."
"Good. Well, I'll send off those photos. Talk with you later."
"Goodbye, brother mine."
Sherlock waited for his brother to disconnect the call, then found the best family photos from the ones he had taken the previous week and sent them off. A couple minutes later, he saw "Thank you" from his brother appear on his phone screen.
Sherlock checked the time on his phone. Thank goodness Molly would be home soon. She had requested he take out some prepared pasta sauce from the freezer to thaw for dinner. When Molly made her pasta sauce, she always made enough to freeze a couple batches of it as well for future meals. Now that she was back at work, and restaurants were closed, there were few options for going out to get take-away. Even McDonald's, the closest franchise, was completely closed. It was rather amusing that an April Fool's joke that indicated the franchise would be re-opening had received so much attention. Although Sherlock was not particularly fond of McDonald's, it was convenient in a pinch. Even his favourite fish shop in Marylebone was temporarily closed because of the lockdown. He hoped Joe and his family were keeping safe.
Sherlock had just turned off the television after the Teletubbies episode ended, with an "Enough television for now, Victoria," when he heard the sound of a key being inserted in the lock of the front door.
Victoria heard it too and jumped up from her position on the floor. "Victoria, you know the rules. Mummy has to go and put her clothes in the washing machine, then wash her hands. After that, you can give her a big hug." He picked up Victoria, taking the extra measure in case she did not listen.
Christina had just opened her eyes as well from her nap, almost as if she sensed her primary milk source had returned. She tolerated taking a bottle from Sherlock, but wasn't a huge fan, judging by the way she always played with the tear with her tongue for a few moments before sucking on it.
Molly entered and waved, then headed straight for the utility room, where she had a spare set of clothes, and Sherlock followed with Victoria.
Changing her clothes was a precaution that some might have considered a little extreme, but Sherlock and Molly had agreed that no precaution was too extreme when it came to the safety of their children.
Sherlock watched with Victoria as his wife washed her hands, hastily stripped to her underwear and tossed her garments into the washing machine, re-dressed, then washed her hands once again at the sink with the hand sanitiser he had made a couple weeks earlier.
"How was your day, love?" Sherlock asked, as she moved to her handbag and withdrew a couple of freezer bags of breast milk she had obviously pumped whilst at work, placing them in the freezer.
"Busy," she responded. "Conducting tests for COVID-19 is quite a change from doing post-mortems on a regular basis, that's for sure."
Victoria reached out her arms to Molly. "Mummy!"
Molly closed the freezer and withdrew her daughter from Sherlock's arms. "Hello, darling. Mummy missed you." She kissed Victoria and walked with her back to the front room, saying as she did so, "And how about your day? Were the girls good?"
"Aside from Victoria demanding I put on more episodes of that show that reduces the IQ of any child who watches it, and changing several dirty nappies, it was okay. Do I get a kiss?"
Molly grinned and set Victoria onto the floor. "Of course. Sorry, I'm in a bit of a hurry to feed Christina."
He went to her and gave her a lingering kiss, thinking how much he'd missed her presence.
Molly then turned off the swing to extract Christina, who was thrusting out her lower lip and looked about ready to begin wailing. "Are you ready for some Mummy milk, lovey?" she asked, "because it has been a few hours since Mummy got to pump any milk and her boobies are very full of it."
Sherlock couldn't help grinning as Christina began to root around for Molly's nipple before she had even unhooked the clasp of her bra.
Victoria walked to Molly as soon as she began feeding and said, "Want milk."
"I'll put some milk in a cup for you, Victoria," Sherlock told her, thinking it was rather funny to watch the rather jealous look Victoria was giving Christina. This was something new. Perhaps it was because Molly had been absent so much, and she felt a little neglected? "You're a big girl now. Only babies have Mummy's milk."
Victoria stamped her little foot. "No! Mummy milk."
Sherlock picked her up and took her with him to the kitchen so he could get her some milk. He tried to reason with her. "Look, Victoria, you can have some milk in your high chair. Mummy is making spaghetti for dinner. Doesn't that sound yummy?" Victoria usually loved spaghetti, even though it always created quite the mess on her face and bib.
She struggled in his arms. "No, Daddy."
Sherlock swung her up and looked into his daughter's eyes. "If you do not cooperate, Daddy will have to put you in your cot upstairs and give you a time-out. Do you want that?"
Victoria's eyes filled with tears. He didn't know if the word cot had struck a chord within her, and she had understood he would put her in it when she wasn't sleepy, but she obviously did not care for the idea. Tears splashed down her little face, and Sherlock almost felt like crying himself. Nobody had told him that discipline could be painful for the parent as much as the child. He wrapped Victoria in his arms and cuddled her tenderly, stroking the brown hair that was so like Molly's, until her crying subsided. "It's okay, princess. Daddy loves you."
She didn't protest when he put her in her high chair and poured her a cup of milk, then opened a packet of fruit shapes for her. He remained at the table until she was finished.
Molly appeared, holding Christina. "Looks like you got her settled," she commented.
"Yes, I managed to appease her with cow's milk and fruit shapes."
"Can you take Christina so I can get started on dinner? Thanks for remembering to get the sauce out of the freezer."
Sherlock took the baby, who was looking very alert. "I took it out of the freezer as soon as you texted me this morning, otherwise I probably would have forgotten." He looked at Victoria. "Do you want me to read you a story while Mummy is making dinner?"
Victoria nodded, and Sherlock made the usual trek to the front room, holding Christina in the crook of his arm, to fetch a storybook. He selected a book that had been a Christmas gift from the Lestrades called The Cat in the Hat. According to Lori, the author, Dr. Seuss, was hugely popular in the United States with rhyming stories for children. He had not read this book yet and hoped Victoria would like it.
Molly smiled at him as he returned and sat once again next to Victoria. He tried reading while balancing Christina in his arms, but it proved difficult, and back to the front room he went to collect the bouncer and place it on the floor facing him. He put Christina in it and went back to the story book.
He began to read aloud.
"The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play.
So we sat in the house all that cold, cold, wet day."
Ah, he thought, it does indeed rhyme.
By the time he had finished reading, giving Victoria a chance to look at various pictures and repeat words of his choice, dinner was almost ready. It certainly did not take long when the sauce, which took hours to make from scratch, was already prepared.
While Molly put spaghetti on plates and cut the long strands of pasta into smaller pieces for Victoria, Sherlock placed her bib around her neck and got her a baby spoon to hold. She was doing quite well with the spoon now, although she did still use her fingers as well, which was what caused the usual mess.
Sherlock then got glasses of water for himself and Molly, adding the usual crushed ice of which she was so fond.
Christina had fallen asleep as usually happened, and Sherlock and Molly were able to eat without interruption except to chide Victoria for throwing her spoon on the floor.
"I have some news," said Sherlock, and Molly looked at him enquiringly.
"What kind of news?"
"Mycroft called this afternoon. He has tested positive for the virus." Seeing Molly's hand tighten on her fork, and her face take on a pinched expression, he hastened to add, "Don't worry, he said his symptoms have been mild, and he has begun to feel better. Apparently he developed a fever a few days ago and didn't want to worry us."
Molly put her fork down. "He should have told us so we could pray for him."
He finished his mouthful and said, "That's what I told him, but he's a stubborn man. I had to twist his arm to agree to even tell Mummy and Daddy."
Molly put her fingers to her temple and rubbed wearily. "This whole situation has moved so incredibly fast. I'm glad Mycroft feels he is already recovering. Many aren't so lucky. I saw today that two nurses, both in their thirties, died as a result of this horrible disease."
"I know, I read the article about that earlier. I can't help feeling relieved that neither was from Bart's. I meant to ask, did you find parking okay today, seeing as you began a little later?"
"Oh, yes. There were plenty of spots in the Smithfield Car Park. It's very nice that they are waiving the usual fee for NHS workers as well, so I should be fine to just drive myself each time. The city seems so empty. I suppose that is the way it is in many cities across the world." She picked up her fork again and resumed eating.
"Most likely," said Sherlock. "I've been reading whenever I get time, to see what is happening not only here, but in countries like America as well, which now has by far the most confirmed cases. Have you spoken to Lori lately? He family is in one of the southern states aren't they?"
"Yes. Her family is in South Carolina, and I was texting hr at lunch today. Her family is doing okay at the moment. They are under similar stay-at-home unless necessary restrictions as we are."
"Did she tell you how things are at the Yard? How's Joseph?" The Lestrades' son, Joseph, had been born on the 9th of January, so they were parents of a newborn as well.
"Greg's keeping busy, as you can imagine, with making sure people abide by the lockdown requirements. Apparently someone in the Metropolitan Police just died yesterday from complications of the virus, so that hut a bit close to home. I have a feeling many people will end up with PTSD after this crisis is over," she said, shaking her head sadly, That was undoubtedly a true statement. "As for Lori and Joseph, they are doing fine. Lori said it is such a joy, being a mother, when she never expected it to happen, I really am so glad for them, even if this is a tough time to be dealing with a newborn, as we ourselves know." She smiled then, and Sherlock knew he and Molly would still not trade Christina for the world. He looked over at the sleeping infant. Children were a blessing at any time.
"So," Molly said a little later, as Sherlock was clearing away the dishes, and she was cleaning Victoria's face and hands, "I'm ready to relax and watch a film with you tonight. Do you think we can watch Doctor Strange once we've taken Victoria upstairs to bed?"
"Whatever you want, love."
Following dinner, Sherlock and Molly watched the latest news about the pandemic. Watching the numbers of confirmed cases continue to rise not only in England, but the world in general, was rather disheartening. They prayed together following the broadcast and spent some time with their usual devotional and Bible reading, which, as always, provided comfort.
One reading seemed particularly relevant. It was Ephesians 6:12.
"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."
"This worldwide situation really does feel like this is a spiritual battle as much as a physical one, doesn't it?" said Molly, after he had read the verse aloud.
"It is definitely a time of testing, and I am convinced Satan is enjoying seeing so many people suffer," agreed Sherlock. "But we still have the opportunity to spread the Word of God, and to see good come out of it." He pursed his lips. "If these are indeed the end times, we need to pray that people's eyes are opened before it is too late."
Molly shuddered slightly. "You're right, That's all we can do." She leaned her head on his shoulder. They both looked over at Victoria, who was placing blocks on top of one another in the playpen, Christina was on the play mat, reaching her hands up to the suspended toys that hung above it. What was their future going to look like? Only time would tell.
"I'm disappointed there won't be a Palm Sunday service this Sunday," Molly said unexpectedly. "I was really looking forward to walking down the aisle with Victoria, seeing her wave a palm branch with the other children this year. I miss going to church."
He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "I know, love. I do too. But we'll make sure we still have our own little Easter celebration next week."
She looked at him. "Can we maybe hide Easter eggs for Victoria?"
"Yes, and you can even dress the girls in the Easter clothes we bought for them before this mess started, and we will take some pictures. We'll make it a memorable Easter, sweetheart."
She leaned over and kissed him. "Thank you, Sherlock."
Later that evening, when Victoria had been bathed and put to bed for the night, and Sherlock and Molly had taken showers and were on the sofa in their dressing gowns, he found Doctor Strange on Disney Plus and pressed the play button.
He slid an arm around Molly, who was holding Christina. The baby had been fed and freshly changed, but she was still awake and seemed content to just be held.
The video monitor displaying Victoria's image was on the coffee table as usual.
They were only a short way into the film when Molly said, "Can you pause it for a minute, please?"
Sherlock slid his arm from where it had still been around her shoulders and bent forward, hitting the pause button. "You're not finding it interesting?" he enquired.
"I am. I just wanted to make a couple observations. I have to say, Stephen Strange does resemble you in the beginning of the film. I've not seen him as anything but Doctor Strange, and I think he looks more like you when he's a neurosurgeon." She gave him a cheeky smile. "He's also very arrogant, much like you used to be." Her smile faded as she continued. "But watching the film reminded me that I meant to tell you there's a new guy at the hospital who's from America. He only came a couple months ago, so it was after I went on maternity leave. Anyway, his accent reminds me of Stephen Strange's."
Sherlock frowned slightly. "Why are you bothering to tell me about some doctor from America?"
Molly blushed slightly. "Well, I met him yesterday, and today he asked me out."
Sherlock sat up straight. "He what? What kind of man asks out a married woman?"
"Well, we were both wearing gloves at the time. He's working with me, doing testing for COVID-19. Anyway, we had been chatting in between patients, and he mentioned he was recently widowed. His wife was English, and he moved here two years ago after living in the States for ten tears before she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Cancer treatment is really expensive in America, so they came back here. Anyway, he said she passed away six months ago. He kind of said when this crisis was over, he'd like to buy me a drink."
Sherlock pursed his lips as Molly shifted slightly to face him, still carefully holding Christina. The baby was still awake and had her hand to her mouth, sucking on it. "I hope you set him straight."
"Of course I did. Once I told him I was your wife and had just come back to work after maternity leave, he was very apologetic."
"I'm surprised he didn't recognise you."
"You have to remember, honey, he has only been here two years, and most of that time he was looking after his sick wife. I doubt he spent a lot of time looking at the newspaper, and people are pretty respectful in not taking a lot of photographs of us together. Most people don't even recognise me."
Christina suddenly let out a little whimper, and Molly rocked her gently. "Well," said Sherlock, feeling his jealousy subside. How could he blame a man for finding Molly attractive? "I guess that's okay then. You really needn't have told me. If he had persisted in pursuing you after finding out you were married, that would have been a different story."
"I just wanted to be honest with you." She brushed her cheek against his shoulder.
His lips quirked. "I think you rather liked telling me, to show that other men find you attractive."
She dimpled at him. "Alright, it is a little bit flattering, to be forty and have a man express interest in me."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "My continued interest in you is not enough?"
She giggled. "Hey, you always have women fawning all over you, let me enjoy my moment."
He tilted his head to kiss her temple. "Now that you have proved yourself the femme fatale I already know you to be, can we go back to the film?"
"Of course."
He resumed the film, and they continued to watch it with very little conversation. He took a turn holding Christina until she made her usual demand to be fed, at which time he handed her back to Molly.
Sherlock noticed Molly nodding off on more than one occasion and had to nudge her gently. He took a sleeping Christina from her and placed her in the bouncer. He knew it had been a long day for Molly, and undoubtedly a draining one.
When the film showed half an hour left, Sherlock looked at Molly, whose eyes were closed again. Oh well, they could always finish it tomorrow.
He gently disengaged from her and took Christina upstairs, placing her in the Moses basket. As he did so, he reflected that she had almost outgrown it. They would have to move her into the cot that was ready for her in the bedroom next door. Victoria's room was at the end of the passage, beyond the bathroom.
Christina did not wake, and Sherlock moved to the other side of the bed to pull down the covers before returning downstairs. Instead of waking Molly, he lifted her into his arms. He was going to find out if he was strong enough to carry her upstairs to the bedroom.
It was a little awkward, but Molly woke enough to put her arms around his neck as he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom, laying her on the bed. He felt slightly winded from the exercise. That was definitely a feat he did not care to repeat often.
He disrobed, then untied the belt of Molly's dressing gown. She barely noticed. Obviously there would be no making love tonight. Well, at least not now, he reflected, helping her get into bed, before settling into it himself and turning off the light, then holding her close.
He inhaled the fragrance of her skin, thinking how blessed he was that she was his, and remembering that American man who had been bold enough to ask her out.
He fell asleep, still thinking about that unknown American, whose image he superimposed with that of a certain Stephen Strange. He had a very interesting dream that took him back to those earlier days of knowing Molly, when he had not really appreciated her properly. And he dreamed that a certain American doctor named Stephen Strange began working at St. Bart's and showed an interest in Molly.
Author's note: Phew. This was a long one-shot. I wrote most of it early in the week and then had to continue adding to it as more recent information came to light about the pandemic.
Talk of deaths and statistics all come from my own research.
What did you think of the news that Mycroft has tested positive for the virus?
Sherlock's little dalliance into reflections surrounding a time spent at Mycroft's, pertains to an as yet unwritten/unpublished scene that will occur as part of my diary series.
For some time I have been thinking about writing a story where Sherlock is competing with Stephen Strange for Molly's attention. Finally, this week, I have had the opportunity to write a two-shot dream. I plan to publish the dream next, so stand by for Sherlock Versus Stephen Strange. All being well, if I can get it done, the next installment of this particular sub-series should happen on Easter Sunday. I hope you continue to follow and enjoy it.
If you would like to see for yourself the article that explained the difference social distancing can have to combat the virus, it can be found at the following website. (Please note this site does not allow direct links so you will need to replace the parentheses with an actual period/full stop or forward slash as indicated.) Share this with everyone you know!
.com(forward slash)the-math-behind-social-distancing/
Keep up that social distancing, everyone! I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this installment. Apologies again for it being such a long one!