Friday, September 22nd, 2017

When the alarm went off at five-thirty in the morning, Sherlock opened his eyes. Molly didn't stir. He bent over her to turn off the alarm and contemplated what to do.

The previous day, Molly had been plagued with morning sickness the entire day, well past midnight. She was unable to keep anything down, not even water.

When she had finally come to bed at around one in the morning, her sleep had been interrupted twice as she had had a dream where she had been a princess and Sherlock had been a prince. Two passion sessions in between the two stages of the dream meant that she had probably had less than three hours of sleep.

Should I wake her or let her sleep? he wondered to himself. Molly had been forced to take a day off the previous day due to being sick. Reluctantly, he decided to wake her and let her decide if she wished to take another day off.

He bent over and kissed her on the lips, then said softly, "Molly, wake up."

She opened up her eyes slowly and looked blearily at him. "Is it time to get up already?" He could hear the drowsiness in her voice.

"I'm afraid so, love, unless you want me to call work for you so you can have another day off?"

Molly pushed the duvet down and Sherlock was treated to a glimpse of her unclothed body. "No, it's alright," she answered with a sigh. "If I take another day off, things will just get behind at work and I want to save my sick days in case I have any more days like yesterday."

"Well, if you're sure." He threw off the covers and got out of bed.

"Why are you getting up?" questioned Molly, as she too rose from the bed.

"Thought I'd get you breakfast and some coffee while you get ready."

She gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, sweetheart. In that case I might take a quick shower, seeing as I didn't get one yesterday."

While Molly took her shower, Sherlock dressed himself hastily and went to the kitchen to prepare crumpets and coffee. He was still not willing to recreate the disaster of trying to make eggs and bacon as he had done during their engagement. That would have to wait until he could observe Molly to learn how to do it properly.

He opened the fridge to get out the milk for Molly's coffee and was suddenly hit with a feeling of nostalgia for the days when the fridge had contained various body parts on which to experiment. Now it was stocked with food instead.

Sherlock admitted to himself he did at times miss doing those experiments. He had set up a lab in 221C downstairs a few weeks before he and Molly had been married, but had not yet had the opportunity to even use his new microscope, let alone conduct any experiments.

As Sherlock added sugar to his and Molly's coffee, then the milk to hers, he considered the matter of whether he could resume experimenting.

What if we move this fridge downstairs and buy another one? he thought to himself. The thought pleased him. He knew Molly had always felt a little uncomfortable about the way the fridge had once been a storage unit for kidneys, eyeballs, thumbs and other body parts. She hadn't come out and complained, but he'd seen it in her eyes when she had cleaned out some dried blood that had congealed at the bottom of the fridge from some experiment or another when she had given it a thorough clean.

Yes, Sherlock decided, it was time for a new fridge, but he wouldn't worry about saying anything right now. Molly had to get to work and besides, she would undoubtedly be too tired to have a productive conversation before work.

He spread the crumpets with butter and honey and sat down to wait.

When Molly sat down beside him, Sherlock noted that the shower had definitely helped to wake her up. She still had slight lines of fatigue about her eyes, but they were no longer looking dull and lifeless. And oh, did she smell wonderful. He never got tired of the scents that perfumed her skin.

After he kissed Molly goodbye, and she left for work, Sherlock cleaned up the breakfast dishes and set up his client chair to prepare for the first client. He had initially intended to see the man the previous day, but had called to reschedule it to today after Molly had started feeling sick.

There were two other clients who had been similarly rescheduled as well for the day.

The first client was dealt with successfully. As often happened, just the additional information the client could provide was enough for Sherlock to determine the solution.

As he was eating a sandwich for lunch, a text came in from Molly. Sherlock picked up his phone. He was very glad he had changed his phone settings to enlarge the font so didn't require reading glasses to read texts anymore.

I guess our secret's out.

Sherlock immediately understood and responded.

It was bound to happen soon, anyway. I suppose it was the fact that you have had two sick days in a short period of time?

You really know how to spoil things before I can even explain, don't you, honey? she responded, following it by an emoji with a sticking out tongue.

Sherlock smiled to himself.

That's what happens when you marry a consulting detective. Deductions are par for the course. Sorry, love. Tell me what happened, and I will try to refrain from making further comment until you have finished.

Thank you for your consideration and restraint.

This was followed by a winky face emoji and another text.

Anyway, as you deduced, a few people have been talking about me taking two sick days when they know I rarely do that. Theories were swirling around, and I was getting a couple of knowing looks and comments about being sick, but I wasn't telling. But then I was in the middle of doing a post-mortem when I suddenly felt sick and had to rush off quickly to the loo. The smell just affected me in a way it hadn't before.

Sherlock waited a few seconds. He was sure this wouldn't be the end of the story, but he couldn't help responding.

So, does that mean Mike Stamford now knows? Is he going to take you off of post-mortem duty until you no longer feel sick around corpses?

He grinned at Molly's response a couple minutes later.

I thought you were going to restrain yourself from further comment. I thought I'd just take a bite of my sandwich before continuing, and there you go, making deductions again. Now quit interrupting!

She followed her text with an angry face emoji, followed by another sticking out tongue one. His wife was certainly enjoying using those emojis these days, he reflected. He waited patiently for her next text, eating the rest of his own sandwich while he waited for her rather lengthy text.

To answer your question, yes. I actually went to Mike in his office and asked if someone else could finish up the post-mortem. Obviously I had to explain why. He told me that he'll restrict me to lab work and other paperwork until I feel able to go back to my usual routine. Of course, after that, the news spread and anyone I didn't tell, Kaitlyn did. She's been dying to tell everyone for weeks now, but she really was marvellous at keeping quiet. Now you may respond.

Thank you for your gracious consideration in allowing me to respond, he texted back teasingly.

He continued with, I guess that means it is time to finish telling our circle of friends and make it official. Next time I'm at the Yard I will let Greg know. Once you arrive home, we will go downstairs together and inform Mrs. Hudson of the happy news. She will undoubtedly be delighted, but I'm guessing she might be a little cross that she was almost the last to know. I think I will allow you to make the announcement, because she would most likely just tell me off for not telling her immediately. See you tonight, love. Next client will be here soon.

He sent off the text and waited for Molly's thumbs up emoji. He put his plate in the sink and waited for his next client.

Another two successful case resolutions later, and Sherlock decided he had a little time to read some of Molly's diary.

Getting himself situated as usual, he began to read the next installment.

…/…/…/…/…/…/…/…/…/

September

I got to see John and Mary's baby today! Mary came home from the hospital and I just couldn't wait to visit. Little baby Watson, she doesn't have a name yet apparently, is so precious.

When I arrived at the Watsons' flat, Sherlock and Mrs Hudson were already there. I haven't spoken to Sherlock since the texts he sent after the birth, and in fact, this was only the second time I had seen him since before Christmas, which was weeks ago. The other time was in relation to a case when he came into the hospital to look at the body of a man who had been strangled, and we didn't really talk much about that, except that I commented on something that apparently helped Sherlock, because he gave me a big, rare smile afterwards. He's always going on about how "once you eliminate the impossible, what remains must be the truth." Well, there was no evidence of a break-in in the bedsit these two brothers shared, nor apparent motive for the man's death, no life insurance policy for the younger brother to inherit. So I pointed out the murderer had to be the younger brother somehow, although the men seemed to have a close, caring relationship according to neighbours. Both men had medical issues, but the younger brother really was the one who took care of his older brother. That seemed to click with Sherlock. I wonder what the outcome of that case was?

Obviously Sherlock is keeping himself busy with cases and burning the midnight oil, because we've spoken so little. I feel as though there is a distance between us because of what happened on Christmas Day. I'm no detective, but I suspect Sherlock feels guilt about it, and that is why he doesn't want to talk about it with me. I hope at least he has someone to talk to about it. I can imagine something like that causing pTSD and requiring therapy. Perhaps he is using work also to distract himself from thoughts of what happened.

Anyway, when I saw him, he was a sight for sore eyes, and I could feel my heart beating fast in my chest just looking at him, as always happens. Thank God he's not a mind reader. Mind you, he was too busy on his phone to pay any attention to me, anyway. I am guessing he is still trying to find out how that image of Moriarty appeared all over the country, in addition to doing other cases. I hope he can find some answers about that image. The idea of someone being able to take over all the airwaves like that is a sobering thought. If anyone can get to the truth though, I know it will be Sherlock.

Anyway, as usual I seem to go off on a tangent every time I write. All roads (or writings) lead to Sherlock. My real purpose in writing this entry is to talk about the baby. She really is so tiny and so perfect. Holding her in my arms made me long so desperately for a child of my own. I would so like to be a mother, but I know that at this point, my prospects are not looking good. I had the opportunity for that when I was with Tom. When I ended my engagement to him I knew in my heart that unless by some miracle Sherlock began to return my feelings, motherhood is not an option for me. Although that hurts, I just pray that God has good things in store for me somehow. Perhaps I will get the opportunity to babysit John and Mary's baby, and that will be some consolation in not having a child of my own. I did tell them I'd be available to babysit whenever I'm not working if they need someone.

When I was young, I did a lot of babysitting in my neighbourhood, including at one stage looking after twins sometimes. Being an only child meant I sometimes felt sad I didn't have anyone to share my hopes and dreams with. If I ever had children, I'd want at least two. Being an only child is rather lonely. Babysitting was fun, and it gave me the opportunity to not only earn some money, but also to spend time with little children. If I hadn't decided to go into the field of pathology, perhaps I would have decided to be a teacher, nurturing young minds. Kayla is a nursery school teacher, and I love hearing stories from her about the things her little charges get up to! Anyway, once again, I am just rambling. Can you tell I have no life when I can spend ages just writing in this diary? Back to John and Mary and their baby.

I was so touched when they asked me (as well as Mrs Hudson) to be godmother to the baby. What an honour that is. I don't really know how strong John and Mary are when it comes to faith, but I am determined that I will be an example for it as the baby grows. I will take my responsibility seriously. I can't say the same for Sherlock, who was asked to be godfather, and he spouted some nonsense about God being a "ludicrous fiction". I still remember his rather rude remarks at John and Mary's wedding and the clear sign that he is an atheist, although I still pray that his feelings on that will change one day. In any case, Sherlock seemed very distracted and wouldn't even give John a definite answer on being godfather, so I guess we will see what happens with that.

So today was a good day. John and Mary seem to be very loving towards one another and their daughter. I had noticed some tension between them on the few occasions I saw them after they returned from their honeymoon. I assume the idea of adjusting to impending parenthood was rather difficult. It's good to see them looking so happy together. I must say, I hope that Mary and I will get the opportunity to get to know one another better. She told me that she's an orphan, and I might as well be one myself, having not seen my mother for years. We seem to have a lot in common that way, being alone in the world, in a way.

As usual, my love, you are so intuitive when it comes to things concerning me. I was indeed using the cases as a distraction, not only from the drugs, which I should not have returned to in the first place, it was foolish of me, but also to not think about the fact that I murdered an unarmed man. I felt ashamed, Molly. I also felt unworthy of your constant friendship, so I kept my distance from you, including that day in the lab when I was looking at the corpse of that man. Incidentally, I apologise for not telling you about this. You were right about that case - it was Joel Fentiman's brother who committed the crime while under the influence of heart medication that led to amnesia about the events that had occurred. A very sad thing indeed. Don't ask me how I still remember the name. You know I usually delete the unimportant facts from closed cases, but then, I did have that love letter dream and remembered the name there too, so perhaps the memory of his name reactivated in my brain as a result.

I read your words about my talk of God, and I see now how narrow-minded I was, unwilling to accept the truth of God's existence. At that time, it was more just an automatic reaction to the word "god" when I was asked to be godfather. Now, I take the title seriously, as you do, and will endeavour to be a worthy godparent to Rosamund. Of course, I will also do my best to be a worthy father to our child. Very happy to accommodate your wish for one ;)

I must also note here that, as you know now, John and Mary's closeness was only as a result of John finally coming to terms with her past. Sadly, I have experienced firsthand John holding a grudge, and it did take him several months to forgive Mary. With my various failings, I must say that holding a grudge is not one of them. We all have our struggles to contend with, don't we?

I do believe you and Mary could have developed a close friendship had she lived, although I have to wonder whether she would have eventually told you about shooting me. I am very thankful that your tender heart offered her forgiveness posthumously only a week after you discovered the truth during our engagement. I still regret the way that happened, but at least after that there were no more secrets between us. XOX

…/…/…/…/…/…/…/…/…/…/

Sherlock was about to move onto the next entry when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He glanced at his watch. He hadn't even realised the passage of time.

He took off the reading glasses, closed the diary and placed both neatly under the coffee table then went to the door and opened it before Molly had the chance to do so.

He offered her a swift kiss and helped to take off her jacket, then turned her around.

"Let's go tell Mrs. Hudson about the baby," he said, and Molly nodded.

Together they walked down the stairs, and Sherlock knocked at Mrs. Hudson's door.

The elderly woman opened it with a surprised look on her face. "Hello, dears. Did you smell my cooking? There's enough for all of us if you want to share and have a chat. I haven't seen much of you since you've been back from your honeymoon. She pursed her lips at them.

Sherlock sniffed the air appreciatively. He hadn't noticed until she said something, but the smell of spaghetti did seem rather appetising. He knew Molly's special pasta sauce was superior to Mrs. Hudson's, but if the elderly woman was offering a free meal, he wouldn't complain.

"I apologise, Mrs. Hudson. We are still settling in to married life. However, if you are willing to entertain us, I'm sure Molly would be only too pleased to not have to cook this evening."

Mrs. Hudson ushered them in, and Sherlock sat at the kitchen table while Molly reached for tea cups. "I noticed you didn't go to work yesterday, Molly," remarked the older woman as she took plates from the cupboard and began to serve the spaghetti. A pot of tea was already ready on the table, almost as if she had been expecting them.

Molly gave her a rather weary smile and glanced at Sherlock, who nodded his assent. He was happy to have Molly announce the news.

"Well, actually, that has something to do with why we came downstairs."

Mrs. Hudson gave her a curious look. "You do look tired, dear," she noted. Then she added with a sly wink, "I suppose Sherlock is keeping you up at all hours enjoying your newly married status."

Molly blushed as she set the cups on the table and turned back to Mrs. Hudson. She cleared her throat. "Well, actually, I was quite sick yesterday, and I do experience quite frequent nausea lately."

Mrs. Hudson almost dropped the plate she was carrying, but stopped herself just before the spaghetti slid off the side and steadied it, then laid it down onto the table in front of Sherlock. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Molly smiled. "Yes, Mrs. Hudson. I'm pregnant."

Mrs. Hudson put her arms around Molly and gave her a warm hug then walked over to Sherlock Who stood and accepted a hug from her as well.

"Oh, my dears, I have been hoping this would happen for you. I just can't believe it! There's going to be a baby at Baker Street!" Then she added hastily, "Not that I don't love seeing little Rosie when she is here, but that is different than having a baby actually living here. Congratulations to both of you!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," responded Sherlock as his landlady returned to the task of filling the other two plates with spaghetti.

As they began to eat, Mrs. Hudson remarked, "I must admit, I had a feeling you might get pregnant on your honeymoon, Molly. I'm assuming that is when it happened?" She beamed at them both, as if she personally had seen to it that the circumstances were perfect for the conception of their baby.

Sherlock's lips quirked in amusement; he remembered telling Molly only a few days earlier that he thought Mrs. Hudson would try to take credit for the warm summer breeze that had enabled them to enjoy their outdoor passion sessions. Those little romantic escapades had taken place in the delightfully secluded wood that surrounded the property of the bed-and-breakfast at which they had stayed on their honeymoon.

Molly cast him a sly glance, and he knew she was also remembering the same thing. "Yes, Mrs. Hudson, it definitely happened on our honeymoon."

"So, are you hoping for a boy or girl?" asked the landlady curiously.

Sherlock and Molly exchanged glances again. "Actually, we haven't even thought that far ahead, Mrs. Hudson. I know I will just be happy with whatever God gives us, and we are just praying that the baby will be healthy," Molly responded.

Mrs. Hudson continued to chatter on about the baby and things they would need to prepare for its arrival as the meal progressed. By the end of it, Sherlock's head was swimming with all the baby talk. Mrs. Hudson had asked if Molly was planning to breastfeed, to which Molly had responded that of course she was. The elderly lady wondered if Molly was planning a home birth to which he had responded that no, Molly would be having their baby in a hospital and having an epidural because he didn't want her to be in copious amounts of pain. Another question followed as to whether Molly was going back to work soon after the baby's birth? To this, Molly responded that she had made no decisions as yet on how long she would take for maternity leave.

"She asked more questions than the midwife," remarked Sherlock as they headed back upstairs afterwards.

Molly grinned at him. "I think It's lovely that she's so interested. It shows that she thinks of you like a son."

They entered 221B and Sherlock closed and locked the door behind them. "I suppose now she will be popping in at all hours to ask how you and the baby are doing," he said rather grumpily.

Molly smirked. "Are you feeling jealous at the fact that you might not be the one who gets all the attention for the next few months?"

Sherlock pulled her over to his chair, and onto his lap, then held her in his arms.

"If she wants to mollycoddle you, she may do so, as long as you Molly cuddle me," he told her in no uncertain terms. He grinned at his own joke.

Molly wrapped her arms around his neck and gave a huge yawn. "You know, Sherlock, I think I need to turn in early for the night. As you know, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." She batted her eyelashes at him. "Would you like some Molly cuddling before I go to sleep?

"I think I could be persuaded," he answered, capturing her lips with his own in a lingering kiss as he used a hand to release her hair and then stroked the unbound tresses. He tasted the slight garlic aftertaste of the spaghetti, a little more subtle than the garlic which Molly used quite liberally in her own pasta sauce.

Finally, their lips parted and hand-in-hand they headed to the bedroom for some very special Molly cuddling of their own.


Author's note: Finally, Mrs. Hudson is in the know about the baby - it was about time, wasn't it?

So, what did you think about the Mollycoddling/cuddling thing? I just happened to see that word and realized it could have a cute alteration.

Before I publish the next chapter, I will be publishing Visitors at Sherrinford, which is a Eurus POV as Sherlock and Molly go to visit her the day after the one on which this chapter takes place. The next diary entry occurs after that visit, so chronologically I want to publish in order so you can read that one-shot first. I've not tried doing a Eurus POV story before so I hope you will give it a try and let me know what you think of it after you read.

Final Note: There are references to several of my stories in this chapter - A Journey to Love, Faith and Marriage; A Honeymoon Journey; and The Accidental Love Letter.