"Up!" Rosie squeals, holding her arms up to a very tall, and very distracted Sherlock. "Up! Up Wock!"

Sherlock glances away from his busy texting briefly to take in the small girl's adorable face, looking up at him with her big blue eyes, blonde curls upon her forehead. He can't help but smile softly, pocketing his phone and scooping her up into his arms. "Rosie Posey, sweet as a flower dancing in the sun", he chuckles and strokes her curls from her eyes. "What would you like?"

Rosie grins at her godfather's sweetness and cuddles into his chest. "Wuh Ock."

"Oh you do, do you? Well Rosie, love is an ideal revolving around the way humans find other humans, purely for the compelling want of companionship because their minds are too simple to be able to handle being confident in their singleness, and also for the ordinary human need for reproduction. That's where you come in."

Rosie stares up at him in wonder, unable to understand his complex explanations. She blinks a few times, her little brow furrowing slightly.

Sherlock sighs with a smile. "Yes Rosie, I love you too." He places a kiss on her head, and she grins, playing with the buttons of his shirt, suddenly fascinated with their shininess. Holding her with one hand, he slips his phone out ad begins texting again, sending in details to Lestrade for a case; only a 5, which is why he won't leave John's house for it. Plus, he promised John he would try this babysitting thing for a night, despite his horror. Sherlock had assured him no criminals would be around his daughter, and she would be perfectly safe. Sherlock never let anything happen to him, so why would John think he'd let anything happen to his precious goddaughter?

"Sherlock Holmes, you promised!", Molly Hooper exclaims, coming out from the Watson's kitchen.

Sherlock jumps, dropping his phone into his shirt pocket. "I wasn't!"

"This MAY be why John won't let you babysit Rosie by yourself", she snorts. "You were!"

"Was not!"

"Liar."

He gapes at the accusation and Molly laughs at his face. "And drama queen. Come, let me see Rosie, it's dinnertime for her."

Rosie giggles and outstretches her arms to Molly. "Oll-yee!"

Molly beams and gently takes her from Sherlock. "Come on sweet girl, are you hungry?", she asks, settling Rosie on her hip. Sherlock watches them, unable to help his thought wandering from how much of a natural Molly is with kids, especially their goddaughter.

He follows them into the kitchen and helps her clip in Rosie's highchair. "Did you make dinner for me-err…us?"

Molly raises an eyebrow. "Well, I figured we could just order a pizza later or something. Unless you're really hungry. John doesn't have much here and I highly doubt Sherlock Holmes wants to go grocery shopping."

Sherlock cringes at the idea. "Grocery shopping? No. That was John's job. Now I guess Mrs. Hudson does it since she hates the idea of me starving myself to death due to my refusal to go to that awful place."

She giggles softly. "You really are a big baby, you know that?"

"Mhh I've been informed, but honestly, there's too many people there. To many stupid people /thinking/ about trivial and non-important things like what slice of meat they'd like." He shudders at the thought.

Molly helps Rosie with her food since she is still learning how to use her toddler utensils. "Yeah, it's not the most pleasant. But then again, some things are necessary. You're lucky you have a Mrs. Hudson." Molly smiles up at him and his stomach flip-flops a bit, but he mentally waves it away.

"True...", he stands thinking, spacing out a bit. Molly rolls her eyes and smiles at Rosie.

"Sherlock is so silly, huh?"

"Ill-yee Wock."

Molly giggles, "Yes, silly Sherlock." She feeds Rosie more of her food and kisses her cheek, then handing her a sippy cup with milk. Glancing up at Sherlock still in his "processing" state, she begins to worry slightly.

"Sherlock? Are you alright?"

"Hmm?", he murmurs, then slowly comes out of his state. "What?"

"I said are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, fine."

"Okay..." She doesn't want to pry, but she figures they may as well make conversation if she has to spend the entire night around him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing", he replies quickly and a bit too sharply.

Molly nods slowly and turns away, focusing on Rosie. Sherlock sighs and sits at the table with them.

"I..I am sorry. Forgive me for raising my voice." He searches for Molly's warm brown eyes, and is relieved when he locks them onto his.

"You just seem distracted, and I was making sure it was nothing serious. You don't have to get defensive with me, Sherlock. I know the stuff you've been through remember?"

"I know. I do know that…" Sherlock makes a guilty face and bites his lip. "Are you okay?"

"I'm...fine."

He searches her face, knowing that she is not fine. "Molly..."

She turns back to helping Rosie. "Yes?"

"I know it wasn't fair…I know that none of it was fair. You've had a horrible year and I can see that...that you're...hurting. Under your smile and your laughs and everything, I can tell there's an undertone. I may not be good with emotions at all, but I notice things. I suppose since you helped me when I needed it, the least I can do is help you. Or at least listen…if you wanted to uh, talk about it…"

"There's nothing to talk about", she says softly but calmly.

"Alright. Well the offer is there if you change your mind. I know I had more than a bit to do with it, so it's only right."

She stays quiet and feeds Rosie who is an absolute mess. There is cheese and noodles and dribbles of milk all over. "Alright sweet girl, time to clean you up. You are so messy!" Molly grabs a cloth and wipes her down gently, cleaning up her tray and the surrounding area. "Let's get you changed into some soft pajamas hmm?"

"'jamas!" Rosie squeals and kicks her feet excitedly.

Molly goes to bring her upstairs and Sherlock follows silently. She lies Rosie down and takes off her messy clothing then changes her diaper. Sherlock distracts her so she doesn't squirm too much when Molly puts her pajamas on. Raising her eyes, she looks into Sherlock's who seems to be "deducing?" her. Her gaze lingers on his for a moment before she tears it away, picking the giggling toddler up and peppering her with kisses. "How about a story before sleeping, Rosie? Would you like that?"

"Ya! Toree!", Rosie claps happily and points to the small bookcase in the corner of her bedroom.

"Okay sweetie, why don't you pick a book and I'll read it to you." Molly smiles as Rosie runs over and peers at the books.

Sherlock places a hand on Molly's back gently. "I'll read to her. You dealt with the dinner mess, and with her diaper, I think I can handle a story."

Molly looks a little shocked but nods. "Alright, just actually read what's in her book; no murder stories Sherlock.

He groans and smirks. "Alright, fineee."

"Goodnight Rosie Posey, I love you so much." Molly grins and gives her a soft hugs and kisses to her cheeks. "I will see you in the morning sweet girl" she coos and hands her to Sherlock with the book she chose. "I'll go and order us a pizza."

Sherlock holds Rosie close and nods, "Good idea." He settles into Rosie's rocking chair with her nestled in his arms. He smiles softly and strokes her curls. "So, this is the book you chose hm? "The Little Engine That Could", well that's a good choice seeing as the train is a girl in this version. You really are just like your mother, aren't you?"

Rosie grins and points to the book. "Tain!"

"Yes, train. Good job, Rosamund", he praises her then begins to read her the story.

Molly orders the pizza and sighs, sinking down onto the soft sofa and rubbing her face. She was worried about what they could possibly talk about once Rosie was asleep. It's been over a month since the "I Love You" phone call, and while Sherlock apologized after Mycroft explained, and she had forgiven him /yet again/, the internal hurt still lingers on her heart. For God's sake, if she could get rid of the love she carries for him she would, but it's impossible. She has tried everything not to love him, to hate him even for all the things he has said and done in the past, but that love won't budge an inch. "You're my friend; we're friends" Molly hears him say in her mind. "Friends..." she mutters. "Friends where I'm the only one who contributes to the friendship, sure." Tears come to her eyes, but she forces them down, distracting herself by scrolling through her phone. "Why did he even bother "saving" me if it was only going to cause this much heartache. Doesn't he realize this is destroying me anyway?", she thinks to herself. "No, he doesn't. Because he's a bloody high-functioning sociopath."

She sighs softly, immediately feeling guilty for thinking that. He isn't, not really. If that were true he wouldn't have sacrificed himself so many times for his friends. As she clicks on Instagram, she sees her thumbs typing out his username " sherlockholmesofficial". Pulling up his page, her eyes widen when she sees a photo of her and Rosie, take just an hour ago when she was in the kitchen with her. The caption reads "—My lovely pathologist and my beautiful goddaughter—". Molly's face turns a shade of red she doesn't think she would be able to hide, as her cheeks heat up.

"What are you blushing at, a handsome bloke on Instagram?"

Molly squeaks and jumps, not hearing him come downstairs. "God Sherlock! I didn't even hear you."

"Well, clearly you're distracted."

Molly huffs. "You're just…quiet. The pizza should be here soon", she mutters as she puts her phone down.

Sherlock chuckles a bit and nods. "Alright. So..any uhh..dates lately?"

She looks up in surprise. "You're suddenly interested in my personal life?"

"Yes..? Just…making conversation."

"Well you're crap at it."

His face falls slightly. "Yes, I know…sorry."

Molly sighs. "No, I'm sorry, that was mean. I'm just tired I guess. Work and Rosie and everything."

Sherlock sits next to her on the sofa gently. "You work hard Molly, and you're fantastic with Rosie...I know my pride gets a hold of me sometimes, but I really don't know if I'd be able to do everything right without you helping. So thank you. You really are a natural with her."

"Thanks..." She blushes shyly and smiles a bit. "And er, no. No dates lately. Let's be honest, there aren't a lot of good blokes wanting to date a morbid pathologist. Tom never wanted me to talk about it; said I wasn't a "real doctor" because I don't work with live patients. We argued about it, and he broke off the engagement. He wanted me to quit to raise kids. I told him I could work and raise kids, but he said his damn job was more important. A stockbroker? Give me a break. I was glad he broke it off."

Sherlock looks furious. "How dare he say those things! Not only are they entirely false, but he was an idiotic arse, and clearly a misogynist. Jesus Christ, I'm glad you didn't marry the faker."

"Me too..just...yknow."

His brow furrows in confusion. "What?"

"Well…I'm thirty-four...I probably have a good six years left to have kids, and it's not like I'd choose to do that on my own. I always wanted the family I never had as a child. A lovely marriage, to be a good mother to a few kids, for them to have a good father, maybe a cat and dog. Just doesn't seem to be happening for me, but then again I suppose there was a part of me that always knew I'd be alone. Going by my career, my personality, my…everything."

Sherlock's eyes soften and he looks at her sadly. "You'll have those things, Molly Hooper. I know you will, because you're one of the most incredible human beings I had ever been blessed to know. You deserve that."

"Maybe I do, and maybe I don't, but that doesn't mean it'll happen Sherlock. I guess I'm just glad to be a part of Rosie's life. I hope Mary would like that I'm close with her."

"Mary would not have chosen anyone else but you to be a motherly figure to Rosamund, Molly. Like I said, you're a natural. Hell, how many times have you taken care of me? Many. You've given me stitches in the middle of the night, you've saved me from suicide, you've sheltered me when I couldn't go home, you've stayed with me while I detoxed, you saved me from overdosing…if anybody deserves to be a parent, deserves to be loved, Molly Hooper, it is you."

Molly's eyes fill with tears and she can't hold them back this time, a few spilling over and down her cheeks silently. Sherlock swallows the lump in his throat and gently hugs her. She hugs back and sniffles. "I'm sorry", she chokes out, pulling back a bit, and wiping her face.

"You've nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. I promise you. If anyone needs to be sorry, it's me. We both know that. I know we can't go back in time and..and..fix things that I've said, or I've done Molly. But I am truly sorry. You've always deserved so much better than that and my words were unacceptable in every way. I don't know exactly why I said the things that I said; you're beautiful. There is nothing wrong with the way you look at all, the love you have is not a weakness, and I know that…that the Sherrinford incident hurt you. You must believe that I did not want to do that. I didn't Molly...we had come so far and we were in a great place and you had forgiven me even though I did not deserve your forgiveness. I never ever would have done that to you if I did not honestly think you were in danger, and I…" Sherlock trails off for a moment. "I couldn't lose you. I couldn't even bear the thought of you being harmed. It destroyed me inside as well. I know that's no excuse but it's true. I truly care about you. You are a big part of my life, of me even being here right now."

Tears trickle down her cheeks and she fiddles with her hands. "You know I forgive you, Sherlock. I know it wasn't your fault. I know that..."

"Molly…" Sherlock gently cups her face in his big hands and looks into her eyes. "There is a part of me that screams that it's true. I do not believe I am the type of man who could ever make you happy in the long run, but I can tell you that there is a part of my heart that you do in fact have residence in. A part of my mind as well. Okay?"

A few more tears fall and she pulls away, wiping her face. "Okay. I know you care, I just wish…I wish…"

"That I wasn't whatever I am…I know."

"No. That's where you're wrong. I like who you are, who you've become. I like your intelligence, and I like how you care about all your friends."

Sherlock looks a bit confused, but touched. "What?"

"Yeah. I like you. I like whatever you are. You"

He blinks a few times, still processing this. How could she /like/ his character? Nobody did, not even John most times. They are interrupted when the doorbell rings, and Molly gets up and receives the pizza from the driver.

"Hungry, Sherlock?"

"Uhh, yeah actually I am. Thanks Molly."

She smiles slightly and sits cross-legged on the sofa, opening the box. "Dig in then."

Sherlock chuckles and does so. As they eat, Molly turns on the telly and they watch a good murder documentary. He didn't know she watched them on her free time and he smirks, glancing at her a bit.

"What? I cut up dead people for a living Sherlock, it can be handy to know what sort of things people die from if not naturally."

"Mhmm. Exactly."

"Exactly."

After they are decidedly full with pizza, Molly throw the leftovers in the fridge. "I'm gonna go throw some pajamas on. You could too if you felt you wanted to. I'll take the bathroom and you can change in the guest room."

"Alright, that sounds like a plan." He gets up and grabs his small, worn, navy duffle that has 'WSSH' embroidered on it; it's the same one he used after the fall when he came to stay with Molly.

Molly grabs her own bag and heads upstairs quietly to the bathroom to change. She brought sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, and slips them on, then grabs her contact solution and case and takes them out, replacing them with her glasses. Once finished, she lets her hair out of it's bun, since Rosie is asleep and wouldn't be tugging at it. Shoving her worn clothes into the other side of her bag and zipping it, she leaves the bathroom. She can't help but notice Sherlock in his sweats, and shirtless, pacing around the guest room holding his shirt as if deciding whether he needed it. Molly smirks a bit and looks over his glorious chest from the slightly ajar door, then heads back downstairs.

Swiftly grabbing the remote as she passes the table, she plops back on the sofa and resumes the show hey were watching. Sherlock comes down the stairs with his joggers and t-shirt, but barefoot. "Hey! You started it without me."

Molly chuckles a bit. "Ah, well, yeah but I just put it on, so you didn't miss much, don't worry."

"Oh, good', he says as he flops down beside her.

As they watch he tries to deduce the cause of death, clearly getting most of it right. Molly giggles and rolls her eyes at him. "Of course you knew. Spoilsport."

Sherlock grins proudly. "It's a gift, according to you."

"It is. A cross your friends must bear."

He smiles softly and looks her over. "Are you wearing glasses? You weren't wearing glasses before. How come I didn't know you wore glasses?"

"I wear contacts during the day, and yes, glasses at night. I must admit it was fun having /something/ that you didn't know about me."

"Pfft...it's always something. Contacts, really?"

"Yes, Sherlock. Really."

"Hm. Interesting."

Molly chuckles a bit. They end up watching one more documentary and Molly gets sleepy, her eyes drooping and leaning slightly on Sherlock's shoulder. He carefully wraps an arm around her shoulders while he finished the last movie. When it's over, he looks at her and smiles slightly. "Molly...the movie is over."

She stirs and rubs her eyes, sitting up again. "Mh, sorry…" Her cheeks turn a bit red and she clears her throat.

"You should go to sleep, I'm sure you're exhausted."

Molly nods then bites her lip. "There is only one guest room though, what about you?"

"Oh, you know I don't sleep much. I'll be alright on the sofa."

"The sofa is not very comfortable to sleep on, I've tried it before, when I fell asleep on it. It'll make your back hurt."

"Then what do you suggest, Miss Hooper?" Sherlock stands up with her and moves closer.

Her cheeks turn redder. "I-I don't know…I mean the guest bedroom is quite large...well, erm..the bed is. M-Maybe we could just sleep on opposite sides."

Sherlock raises an eyebrow. "Okay, that's doable. It's not like I haven't slept in your bed before."

"Yes well…yes…"

"Let's go then", he murmurs as he walks upstairs. She watches him for a moment, bewildered, then follows. On her way, she peeks into Rosie's room and smiles, seeing her curled up and sound asleep in her crib. Molly goes down the hall to the guest bedroom and sees Sherlock already curled up on one side. She takes her glasses off and neatly puts them on the night table and climbs into the opposite side, pulling the blankets over her and settling her head into the pillow, then flicks the light off.

"Goodnight Molly. Sleep well."

"Goodnight Sherlock, you too." Molly dozes off not long after, sleeping soundly throughout the entire night.

The next morning, the sun pours through the window, peaking above the horizon and into the guest bedroom of John Watson's home. Unfortunately for Molly, that meant the rays went right onto her eyes. She groans and covers her face from the sun, squinting and looking around the room, still disoriented with sleep. Blinking a few times, she realizes where she is and looks at the clock. 6:48am. Still early, even for Rosie. As she goes to sit up she suddenly feels a weight on her waist, and turns to look.

Sherlock is sound asleep with his arm slung around Molly's waist, holding her close to him. Molly's cheeks heat up and she swallows, wondering how she could get out from under his grip without waking him and making everything awkward. She slips from under his arm slowly, but he shifts and mumbles something incomprehensible, pulling her against him. "Mhh.."

She blushes deeply and bites her lip, slowly cuddling into him and closing her eyes again, pretending to be asleep as well. The longer she stays there, the longer she relishes in the moment, being in his arms, feeling his warmth. It's like heaven. He's so comfortable; so calm and sweet looking when he's asleep. Molly keeps her eyes closed in fear he would discover that she's awake; she hears his breaths even out and his arms shift just slightly.

Sherlock stirs a bit, feeling something very warm and very soft in his arms. When he peers down to look, he's shocked to see the smaller form of Molly Hooper, her eyes closed and her body tucked into his. He swallows and revels at how nice it feels to hold her, how warm and comfortable she is. "Molly.." he murmurs softly.

"Mhh.."

"Do you want me to check on Rosie? I think she's awake."

Molly's eyes flutter open and she turns bright red, still in his arms, Sherlock's gorgeous stormy blue eyes peering down at her. "I-..I…" She clears her throat. "Uh sure, yeah, that would be um..good."

Sherlock nods and detangles himself from her. "I'm…sorry, by the way…I tend to move around when I sleep…"

"I know, remember when you were detoxing and you made me hold you all night? You didn't stop tossing and turning.

"Right, I nearly forgot..."

"Well you were nowhere near sober, so that kinda makes sense, I guess." Molly sits up and runs her fingers through her hair.

"Sorry again..for..all of that. It's never my finest hour…"

"No, it's not, and I better not have t ever see it again."

Sherlock nods. "I'll really really try."

"I don't want you to try, I want you to completely avoid it for the rest of your life so you don't become a terrifyingly rising death statistic Sherlock", she says nervously but firmly. "I don't ever want to see you on my slab. Ever", her voice grew softer and weaker. "Please."

Sherlock casts his gaze to the ground, not knowing how to handle how much she cares about him, and feeling guilty that he kept letting her down. "I-I'll do my very best, Molly."

"London will always need Sherlock Holmes. So will I…and all the rest of your friends. As crazy and as impossible and as irritating as you can be, they all love you and care about you. So if you can't stay clean for yourself, at least stay sober for them. Because I know you care about them."

"Correction. All of you. I care about all of you. That includes you Molly. Don't think I don't notice when you discount yourself. I've told you before; you do count, you do matter, I've always trusted you. You are my friend. Don't exclude yourself from the people I care about."

Molly blushes deeply and focuses her attention on her hair. "Okay", she says softly.

Sherlock observes her for a moment, feeling another pang in his chest where his anatomical heart is. He tries to ignore it, the way he had yesterday and last night. "Molly...?"

"Yes, Sherlock?" Molly raises her chin to look at him again.

"Thank you. Again. For everything you do for me. I wouldn't be here if you didn't, and you easily could have told me to sod off..."

"You're welcome. Like you said, we're friends. Friends are there for each other...good or bad."

Sherlock nods and looks at her. "I-...I know that I'm not…good…with this type of stuff, but like I mentioned yesterday, if you ever need to talk or anything…I do owe you."

"You don't owe me; I don't keep score. But thanks."

"Right. I'll just go and check on Rosie then."

Molly nods and checks her phone.

Moments later Sherlock comes into the guest room carrying a still sleepy Rosie in his arms. He smiles and kisses her head, setting her down on the bed between him and Molly. "She's awake but in a cuddling mood. I thought you might enjoy some littler cuddles."

Molly blushes and smiles softly, cuddling Rosie. "Good morning sweet girl. Ohh, you're still sleepy huh?", she coos gently, stroking Rosie's wild blonde curls. Rosie nods and yawns, clinging to Molly. Sherlock smiles fondly and watches them together.

"I'll go and get the cereal ready? John says she likes Cheerios. I can make some coffee too?"

Molly looks up at him shocked. "Wow um…okay, yeah that sounds great. Thanks, Sherlock."

He nods and heads down the stairs to get breakfast started.

A bit after 2:00pm, John comes home and seems very happy that the night with his new girlfriend went well. He thanks Molly and Sherlock and asked them if they got along well with Rosie, to which they reply that it was a good night, Rosie was well-behaved, and they watched murder docs when she was in bed. John snorts and rolls his eyes.

"Well look at you two death loving crazies. Go on, have the day to yourselves. I'll see you both around soon. Molly, enjoy your day off. Sherlock…try to take another day off."

Molly smiles. "Thanks John, I will certainly try."

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Now, you know I can't just ignore a case if it falls into my lap."

"They never fall into your lap Sherlock, you get bored and go searching."

"Touche…"

"I'm spending the day with Rosie though, so no interruptions, I mean it. I want the whole weekend with no criminals."

"Oh fine!", Sherlock huffs.

They say their final goodbyes and Molly begins to walk to her small yellow Beetle car.

"Molly?"

Molly turns around as she pulls the keys from her coat pocket. "Yes?" Sherlock walks to her, chewing his lip. She looks up at him curiously. "What is it Sherlock?"

"I was wondering…um…"

Molly quirks her eyebrow.

"Would you like to…"

"Solve crimes?"

"Have dinner?"

"Oh…"

"What?"

"Have dinner…tonight. W-With uh..me…"

"Hold on, you're asking me to dinner?"

"Yes, I thought that was fairly obvious. Will you though?"

"Like, as friends?"

"Well, more like...friends who are maybe possible trying out what a date would be like?"

"So, you want a date? With…me?"

"Yes, Molly. A date. With you. If you'll show."

Molly smiles sweetly. "Wow you're serious…yes. Yes, Sherlock I'd love to have dinner with you."

Sherlock beams and kisses her cheek. "Right then! I'll pick you up at seven. Oh, and try as much as possible, not to wear a super bright, super obnoxiously printed jumper. If possible."

"Hey! They're cute! But fine, I don't usually wear jumpers to dinner anyway. You better not be late, because I won't wait for you past seven." Molly gives a sly smirk.

"Yes ma'am. I await the adventure." Sherlock grins as he walks over to his cab, a bit of excitement in his step. Molly smiles brightly and chuckles, then mutters to herself as she drives away.

"Wow, finally. I can't believe this, a date with Sherlock. Quite an adventure indeed."