Author's note: Well, here at last is the final chapter. I was looking at my Colored Note app, Where I write all my stories,and saw I began writing this story in June 2019 and finished it in February 2021. The publishing of it has been from May 2020 to now, October 2021. It will be good to no longer have WIP listed on my profile timeline for this one.

Enjoy this final chapter!

Sherlock exited the door into the auditorium, his eyes scanning the people remaining. Immediately, he spotted his parents and Molly's mother standing together, chatting with Mycroft and Mark. Martha was also there, along with a woman who looked slightly older and definitely more frail, but similar in features, obviously her sister, Edith.

"Oh!," said Molly. "I see Sheila over there with Jake. I haven't seen them since they moved away, but I'm so glad they were able to make it. I'm just going to duck over to have a quick word with them. They've obviously been waiting to talk to me."

Sherlock nodded, adjusting Victoria at his hip. He caught sight of another person, one whom he had invited, but hadn't been sure would come. It was Billy Wiggins, and he was standing with a woman who looked to be around the same age. His eyes met Billy's, and he knew he had to at least go over and say hello.

He went first to his parents, though, and touched his mother's arm to get her attention. "Mummy, Daddy, I'll be right back to talk with you. I see someone I want to have a quick word with first."

"Go ahead, dear," said his mother. "Mark has been getting us up to speed on how his new job, working with his father, is going."

Sherlock walked over to Billy. "Glad you could make it, Billy."

"I wouldn't 'ave missed it, Shezza," said Billy. "I ain't seen you since you moved 'ouse, and I can't believe 'ow big your little girl is."

Sherlock shifted Victoria slightly. He could feel her body relaxing against him, and her eyes were closed. It had been a long day for her. "Yes, I've been rather preoccupied with personal obligations lately, and my investigations have not required the assistance of the homeless network."

Billy nudged the woman standing beside him. "Told you I've 'elped 'im out in the past." He seemed to suddenly realize he had not introduced her. "Shezza, this is my girlfriend, Rebecca. Rebecca, this is the famous Sherlock 'olmes, my mentor."

Sherlock extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Rebecca." He wondered where Billy had met the woman, and his question was answered by the young man's next words.

"Remember how you set me up with a sponsor for my addiction? Rebecca's 'is younger sister. She knows how to deal with an addict like me, because she's seen it with 'er brother." He gave her a fond smile, and then looked back at Sherlock. "She keeps me on the straight and narrow."

Rebecca blushed. "Being a therapist gives me a good insight into dealing with all kinds of addiction," she said, looking from Billy to Sherlock. "Your daughter is adorable, by the way."

Sherlock was glad that the young man had found someone who could understand him and his past. "Thank you," he said with a smile. "I hope you enjoyed the performance."

"Very much so," Rebecca said eagerly. "I never knew anything came after Jesus died on the cross. In Jesus Christ Superstar, that's where the story ends."

Sherlock nodded solemnly, recalling how Kayla had said something about that right at the beginning, when they had been discussing doing a play, and John had suggested just putting on the musical. "Unfortunately, many accounts don't tell the whole story, but the Bible does."

"It sure makes you think," said Billy. "Guess this is what you believe now you are a Christian?"

"It is." Sherlock reached his free hand inside his shirt and pulled out his silver cross necklace that Molly had given him three months earlier to mark the second anniversary of him turning his life over to Christ. "My faith is paramount in my life, even more than my detective work." He glanced at his now-sleeping daughter. "And my family takes precedence over work too."

Billy looked a little uncomfortable, obviously unused to being exposed to talk of beliefs. "Um, yeah. You've really changed a lot." He glanced over in the direction of Sherlock's parents. "Well, I reckon you wanna speak with your family. Thanks for coming over, Shezza. Say 'ello to the missus for me. And you know where I am if you need any 'elp with cases."

"It was really nice to meet you, Mr. Holmes," said Rebecca.

Sherlock grinned. "You might as well call me Shezza, but don't tell anyone else. Billy is the only one I have allowed to call me by that nickname."

She giggled. "Okay...Shezza."

As they left, Sherlock walked towards his family, thinking about how perhaps he'd planted a seed or two in Billy's and Rebecca's minds, if they had truly not understood the resurrection of Christ and its significance.

Molly had apparently also finished talking with Sheila and Jake, and she reached the still chatting group of family at the same time.

As he approached, his mother held out her arms. "Let me take my granddaughter. I haven't seen her in forever."

"Two months, Mummy," Sherlock said, nevertheless relinquishing his sleeping daughter to her eager arms. He supposed Victoria had grown a little since Mark's graduation.

His mother looked at Molly, who had come to stand next to Sherlock. "I can see you have increased significantly since July. How are you feeling? You did an absolutely wonderful job with the play and with your singing as well."

Sherlock saw Molly's flush of pleasure. "Thank you. It has been a labour of love." She rubbed her abdomen. "The baby has been very active tonight. I think she must have sensed the excitement, but apart from that, I've been feeling fine."

"And Sherlock," his mother said after Molly had finished speaking, "You did an excellent job." She slid a glance at Mycroft, then returned her gaze to Sherlock. "In fact, I think you even surpassed your brother's Lady Bracknell."

Mark looked interested at that. "Lady Bracknell? My father played a woman's role in a play?"

Mycroft looked embarrassed and folded his arms. "Out of necessity, Mark. Until recently, Oxford University did not admit women, and I did the noble thing in volunteering to take on a female role." He cast his mother a rather baleful glare, then addressed Mark again. "Your grandmother wanted me to have an education that included the fine arts so I would be more 'well-rounded'."

His mother sniffed. "Life is not only about work, Mycroft. Having time for entertainment is important too."

Sherlock decided he could afford to be magnanimous. "I was only a teenager when I saw your father perform, Mark, but I recall he did quite a good job."

Mark chuckled. "Wish I'd seen it."

"I believe your grandmother might have a picture of him in costume," put in Sherlock's father. "It's probably in a photo album somewhere."

Sherlock smirked at the look of horror that crossed Mycroft's face. "If a photo exists, I demand you dispose of it immediately."

Sherlock's mother was unfazed. "I am your mother, Mycroft Holmes, and you will not dictate to me what I will or won't do," she said firmly.

Sherlock made a silent promise to himself to hunt down those photo albums and look through them next time he and Molly were in Sussex to visit his parents. His mother had shown Molly some old photos in albums, but he definitely didn't recall any from Mycroft's time at Oxford.

Martha tapped Sherlock's shoulder and spoke up then. "Sherlock, may I introduce my sister, Edith?"

Sherlock turned to look at the woman who resembled Martha slightly. There was a hollowness in her eyes and he took her frail blue-veined hand, which shook slightly. He recalled Martha saying her sister had stage four breast cancer, and he sensed the woman's weakness. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Edith, and I'm glad you were able to attend the play."

The elderly woman smiled. "Martha has told me a lot about you over the years. She thinks very highly of you." She looked at Molly, still standing beside him. "And your wife too."

"The feeling is mutual," said Sherlock. "We think of Martha as part of our family."

Edith nodded. "That's good. She will need you more when..." her voice faltered slightly, "I'm gone."

Sherlock didn't know what to say. How did you respond to a dying woman? Fortunately, Molly came to his rescue.

She tucked her arm through his and said, "Whatever happens, Martha will always be like family to us. I'm so glad you were able to join us this evening."

Sherlock noticed that his family had respectfully resumed talking to one another, including Molly's mother.

"Well, Edith, time to get you back to my place for the night," said Martha, and Sherlock saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

Edith nodded. "Nice to meet you." She looked at Molly. "And congratulations on the upcoming blessed event."

"Thank you," said Molly warmly, and Sherlock felt her hand on his arm tighten slightly. He looked at his wife and noted that she too seemed to have tears close to the surface.

As Martha and Edith departed, walking slowly up the aisle, Molly's mother said, "You both did a marvellous job. I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Mum," said Molly, embracing her mother.

Sherlock's mother looked at Mycroft. "I suppose it is time for us to leave now." To Sherlock she said, "Remember, we are staying with Mycroft for another week before we return home, so we must come and see your new house before we leave."

"Molly starts night shift tomorrow, but we could have you over for a visit Friday evening." Sherlock looked at Molly for confirmation. "Will that work for you, love?"

Molly smiled. "Sounds great to me. "I know Victoria will be happy to spend time with you." She gestured at the soundly sleeping child in Sherlock's mother's arms. "I don't think tonight counts, seeing as she doesn't even know you are here."

Sherlock's mother looked down ruefully at Victoria. "So it would appear."

"Ruth, I can drive you home if you'd like to wait for Molly and me to gather the things from our dressing room."

"That will not be necessary," said Mycroft promptly. "Your mother-in-law can come with us, and I'll have my chauffeur drop her off first."

"Oh, yes," said Sherlock's mother, looking delighted. "Then Ruth and I can have a good natter on the way.."

With transportation arrangements settled, the Holmes family departed with Molly's mother.

Sherlock and Molly, who had taken Victoria back, headed for their dressing room.

They were the only remaining cast members still there, aside from Matthias and Bob, who were arranging the transport of sets and costumes back to the church.

Fifteen minutes later, Sherlock was behind the wheel of their car and driving home. Molly had opted to sit in the back seat with Victoria, who had woken whilst being buckled into her car seat. Molly was pacifying her with her favourite fruit shapes snack.

Sherlock had thought they would discuss the evening's events on the ride home, but it was a bit hard to talk when his wife was sitting behind him.

He contented himself with thinking about how he would have more time to devote to cases again now that the play was over. Tonight had been his opportunity to share his faith in a public way, and it had been extremely rewarding. Using his detective skills in a way that gave God the glory was an implicit rather than explicit act of faith.

He thought about the two fat envelopes in his pocket that contained all the cash and cheque donations. He was still amazed that they had raised over £10,000. On Monday, he would deposit the cash and make out his own cheque to equal the cash donations, plus a little extra from Molly and himself. Then he would post it to the London address of Cancer Research UK, along with a note that explained the reason for the donation.

His thoughts kept him happily occupied until he found a parking spot close to their house. It wasn't a long drive from Hackney to Harringay, anyway.

Molly emerged from the car with the changing bag as Sherlock picked up the bag of makeup supplies he'd placed on the passenger seat and went around to the other side to retrieve Victoria. Her snack seemed to have revived her somewhat and she beamed. "Dada!"

He kissed Victoria's forehead and unbuckled her, lifting her into his arms. Even as he did so, he detected the unmistakable odour of a dirty nappy.

Molly was already unlocking the front door as he reached it.

"I'm going to make us a cup of tea," she announced, dropping the changing bag and heading towards the kitchen. She called over her shoulder, "Do you think you can try to get Victoria into her sleep suit and back to sleep? I know she enjoys it when you sing to her."

His lips quirked. "I presume you wish me to change her dirty nappy first?"

Molly's voice drifted back to him. "Oh, she has a dirty nappy? I guess you should do that first." He heard the fake note of innocence in her voice and knew she had been completely aware of the dirty nappy.

Oh well, she was usually the one who changed Victoria, so he couldn't complain.

Still holding Victoria and the bag of makeup supplies, Sherlock bent to get a nappy and wipes from the changing bag, as well as a plastic bag for the dirty nappy.

Upstairs, he dropped the makeup bag into the bathroom and then proceeded to change Victoria's nappy and get her into her sleep suit for the night.

He left the bag with the dirty nappy on the floor and placed Victoria in her cot, then went to wash his hands.

When he returned, Victoria was standing with her hands on the rails of the cot.

"Come on, princess. It's time for you to go to sleep," he said. She reached up towards him and he picked her up, then settled himself in the rocking chair.

It took about ten minutes of rocking and soft singing, but her eyes finally closed again, and Sherlock was able to place her back into her cot. Fortunately she remained asleep.

He picked up the bag with the dirty nappy, made a quick detour to the bedroom to retrieve the baby monitor and headed back downstairs.

He deposited the bag in the kitchen bin and took a seat at the dining table, before the cup of tea waiting for him, placing the video monitor on the table next to it. Molly had thoughtfully set out a plate of ginger nuts she had made a week earlier, and he took a bite of one before taking a sip of his tea, which thankfully was still warm.

"I guess it took a few minutes for her to settle," commented Molly, looking at him.

"Yeah, a few, but she's asleep now, and hopefully she'll stay that way."

"I can hardly believe it's all over, Sherlock. It's kind of bittersweet, isn't it?"

He reached to place his hand over hers. "It is, but I'm looking forward to taking a break now and to think about the next milestone in our lives."

She smiled. "The baby?"

"The baby," he affirmed. "At some point, you will have to decide how you want to proceed with working, once Christina arrives."

Molly bit her lip. "I have been thinking about that, actually. To be honest, I think I'm ready to stop working full-time. I don't really like the idea of leaving two children with my mum or Martha when you and I are both busy."

"That makes sense, although I could probably try to work my cases around your schedule."

Molly shook her head. "You can't predict how long a case might keep you occupied. When the baby arrives, I think I'd like to take maternity leave for a few months, then return to work two days a week."

He squeezed her hand. "You might want to give Mike a heads up about that, so he can train someone to take your place."

Molly nodded. "Actually, I've had a young intern working with me lately, and he's doing a great job. Even you would find it hard to fault him, I think. He asks me very intelligent questions during post-mortems. I even watched him do some stitching up of a body last week, and he took great care with it, treating it with respect."

Sherlock raised a brow. "Really? What's this intern's name?"

"It's Jamie, Jamie Wordsworth."

"Well, nobody could replace you as the best pathologist in London, but if I have to deal with someone other than yourself in the future, I'm glad it sounds like you will have a competent replacement."

She moved her hand around so she could link their fingers. "Well, that's still months away, so I suppose you had better find yourself some juicy murder cases for which I can do the post-mortems until I leave."

He chuckled. "Molly, you shouldn't be wishing for any murders to happen at all."

"I don't, but they happen. We live in an imperfect world." Her smile,was tender as she added, "And you try to right the wrongs of murder in your profession."

He took another bite of biscuit and chewed thoughtfully before speaking. "I am looking forward to being utilised more by Greg. He told me he was making the staff at New Scotland Yard work harder so that he wouldn't have to call on me, knowing how busy things were with the play."

"Speaking of Greg, I still can hardly believe it, Sherlock. Isn't it an exciting feeling to know we had at least an indirect role in him becoming a Christian?"

"I think the more willing we are to be used as instruments of God, the bigger the reward we potentially see. I am indeed glad also. It is interesting how each person must take their own journey towards faith. But having an open heart is the first step." He reached a hand to touch the silver cross necklace at his neck. He had taken it off for the play, but had replaced it immediately afterwards. "When I started reading the Bible, it was to please you first, but I was determined to find out all I could as quickly as possible. Therefore, it didn't take me long to recognise the truth of what I was reading. For others who might not be willing to read the Bible and immerse themselves in it, it is a longer journey."

Molly drained her cup of tea. "I think you are right. The Bible is the best source for finding the answers for yourself. Much better than just attending church or listening to other people." She stood. "Well, I'm ready for bed. It's after eleven, and I don't want to be tired for church." She gestured at the plate of biscuits. "Do you want another one before I put them back in the container?"

"Nope. Two's enough." Sherlock drained his own cup and took the two cups to the sink while Molly returned the remaining ginger nuts to the container.

They walked upstairs together. "I want to wash my face properly and make sure there's no makeup residue," Molly told him before disappearing into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, she exited, face scrubbed, smelling of toothpaste.

"Don't get undressed yet," Sherlock instructed as he took his turn in the bathroom to do his own nightly routine.

He returned to the bedroom to find the bedcovers turned down and Molly sitting on it, still fully dressed, as he'd requested.

"Stand up and let me take a proper look at you, my love," he ordered.

She stood.

"Present that belly," he said, thinking how extraordinarily beautiful she was, especially in this off-the-shoulder red gown.

Molly stuck out her belly a bit further as he circled her.

He stopped when he was behind her and placed his arms around her so he could circle her girth. He loved feeling Molly's expanding belly.

She placed her hands over his where they rested, and he bent his head to kiss her neck, then kiss along the line of one bare shoulder, before switching his attention to the other one.

Molly made a little hum of pleasure, even as he felt the baby move in her abdomen, as a little sigh then movement came from the monitor of Victoria shifting position in her sleep. A rush of love overwhelmed him for his wife, daughter and their unborn child. He had so much to be thankful for. His life had changed significantly in the past couple of years. He wasn't the perfect Christian, nor would he ever be, but that didn't matter, He knew God loved him, had blessed him. And he knew he would continue his journey through life, working on the sanctification process as he continued his faith walk.

He turned Molly towards him, wrapping his arms around her, feeling her taut belly against his body. "I love you so much," he whispered. "You are the greatest blessing I could ever imagine."

She looked up at him with a loving smile. "I love you too, and you're the greatest blessing God could have given me as well. I'm very thankful for it."

Her arms encircled his neck to pull his head down to hers, and he kissed her, allowing this overwhelming, deep love to fuel his ardour for the woman in his arms.

So much had happened in the last three months. They had moved to a new home, bought a car, and watched his nephew graduate university. They had performed in a talent show and celebrated their second wedding anniversary. Tonight, they had put on a successful performance of the life of Jesus and learned that a dear friend had become a brother in Christ. But their most exciting accomplishment for the year was still to come, somewhere around Christmastime.

And as Sherlock shared his love with Molly in the always joyful physical union of that love, he reflected that no matter where God led them next, he was ready and willing to serve. It was the least he could do to thank God for the abundance of riches he had received since opening his heart to not only Molly's love, but God's love for him as well.

The words of Jeremiah 29:11 had never felt more true.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Author's note: I feel exhilarated to have finished publishing this story at last, yet it is always bittersweet to say goodbye to something that has been such a big part of my writing journey, a labour of love. I pray that you have been blessed by this story, that it encourages you to open up the Word of God. I know I feel blessed in being able to present Christian themes through my Sherlock universe.

Did you enjoy the surprise guest, Billy? I have a soft spot for that young man.

My sincerest thanks to my faithful readers who have followed this story from beginning to its conclusion. Thank you for the support with your follows, favourites and feedback. Those of you who give me this encouragement are the ones who keep me motivated to write. It makes the hundreds of hours I poured into the research, writing, editing and proofreading worthwhile.

As a fanfiction writer, your responses are the only thanks I get for my efforts, and I have struggled in the past with feelings of disappointment that I do not reach a lot of people, that most people do not leave any kind of sign that they have read or enjoyed a story. I think every writer of fanfiction has the same doubts and insecurities. I strive to acknowledge the hard work of others, both in their writing and in real life. I encourage you to think about this.

Acts 20:35 says: "In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"

If my writing helps you to understand the value of kindness towards others and the importance of sharing your faith, it has accomplished its task.

Be blessed!

GoodShipSherlollipop