Author's note: Surprise! Recent events with a beloved family member spending time in hospital (and who now has Covid as well), have made for some nights where it is hard for me to sleep, and I was suddenly hit with inspiration to write after a three month hiatus. I decided it was time to check in on Sherlock and Molly again in another "real time" story. I actually have other stories that belong in the timeline before this one, and I have not finished writing the Christmas story, which was my last project, but I'm going to publish this one to keep it as close to "real time" as possible. I thought it would be interesting to address the topic of Omicron, having just had the virus along with my family. So when I talk about it, I come to it from a place of experience, something I like to use in my stories.

A quick word of thanks to those of you who left reviews on the last chapter I published for The Addict and the Christian. It meant a lot to me to hear from people, and I want to also thank guest Fiona this way seeing as she does not have an account so I am unable to send her a private message of thanks. I hope to hear from her again and any other readers who might feel so inclined. If you don't have an account, remember that guest reviews are appreciated as well, but I just cannot respond personally by sending a private message, obviously.

I hope you enjoy this little glimpse into the current state of my Sherlock and Molly characters. I'm sorry, there are some spoilers here, but if you have read my 2027 dated story, you already know a lot of the future anyway ha ha.

I typically do not publish when I am not far ahead with my pre-writing of a story, but I'm going to publish this and try to work on the second part so that I don't keep people waiting too long for it. Enjoy!


Wednesday, 16th February 2022

It was bound to happen. Molly knew that as soon as Omicron began making the rounds of the staffers at St. Bart's Hospital, indiscriminate of whether or not a person had had the booster, it was just a matter of time before she too would be exposed to the virus.

Neither Sherlock nor Molly had opted to have the booster when it became available. Despite the assurances that it was safe for pregnant women, Molly was not willing to take any chances. As someone who was healthy and at minimal risk for serious infection from the virus, after time spent in prayer, Molly believed that if she were to get the virus, she would rely on God's mercy to bring her and her unborn twins through it successfully. Sherlock was in full agreement with this decision.

His own reasons for eschewing the booster were his unfortunate reaction to the second dose and his feeling that he was in excellent health and would most certainly overcome any potential infection quickly.

As the Delta variant had been overtaken by the Omicron one, Sherlock felt even more validated in his decision to not bother with the booster when his parents, who had received the booster, contracted the virus in January.

Molly thought back to that conversation the previous month, even as she looked ruefully at the text that had just come in on her phone.


"See, Molly?" Sherlock said, almost triumphantly, upon receiving the phone call from his mother to relate the news of their diagnosis. "Omicron doesn't care whether you've had the booster or not. Mummy told me she is sure they got it after a small fiftieth wedding anniversary dinner with their friends, Edna and Henry, last week. Edna called Mummy a couple days after the dinner to warn her that she and her husband had felt under the weather the day after, and that they had tested positive. Mummy said they had had the booster as well."

"I'm not surprised. I know several people who have had Covid, despite having the booster." Then, noticing how Sherlock's face had settled into a slightly anxious expression, she laid a comforting hand on his arm. "But I'm sure because they had the booster, the symptoms will be less severe."

He nodded. "I agree, but I still can't help worrying about my dad. With his COPD, he is at greater risk for..." his voice trailed away, and Molly knew what he was thinking.

"We have to leave things in God's hands. Your parents have done everything they need to do to minimise their risk, and, short of sequestering themselves in their house and never speaking to anyone again, there is always a chance of getting sick." She squeezed his arm.

Victoria turned her head from where she had been watching her latest favourite film, "Encanto". Christina was alternating between watching the film and playing with the toy in front of her.

"Who's sick, Mummy?" she asked. That child had an amazing ability to overhear a private conversation at the most inconvenient of times.

Molly considered her words carefully, not wishing to lie, but not wanting her daughter to worry. "Grandma and Grandpa are just a bit sick right now. But I'm sure they will be all better very soon." She flashed Victoria a smile.

Thankfully, Molly's cheerful tone worked. "Oh, okay then." Victoria returned her attention to the screen and a few moments later was singing along to the song that came on with her sweet little soprano. "We don't talk about Bwuno".


As it turned out, Sherlock's mother, being in robust health for a woman of 84, had recovered quickly from her bout with Covid. Unsurprisingly, Sherlock's father, with his COPD issues, had needed a trip to the hospital for a few days for supplemental oxygen, but after three weeks of recuperation following the hospital stay, he was feeling much better.

Now, Molly absently rubbed her distended belly and lifted her eyes to Sherlock's curious gaze.

They had finished dinner a few minutes earlier, and he had just released Christina from her high chair after cleaning her hands and face.

"Come on, Chwisty," said a waiting Victoria, holding her hand out to her little sister.

Christina took it, and they headed off to the front room, where Molly knew they had been assembling a jigsaw puzzle. Molly had been putting dirty dishes into the dishwasher when the text had come in.

"Remember how I told you Kaitlyn left work early the day before yesterday because she wasn't feeling well?"

"Let me guess. She just tested positive for Covid."

Molly bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah, she said it really feels like she just has a head cold, but because so many of the Omicron symptoms are the same as those for a cold, she decided to get a test, as well as David. He's positive too." She swallowed. Was it her imagination, or did she feel a tickle in her throat?

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "How are you feeling, love?"

"I think I'm okay. You know we have to wear masks at work, but Kaitlyn and I did have lunch together on Monday, which means we were talking without our masks."

"Another reason I think masks are practically useless, especially cloth ones, as the data has shown with this variant," he commented.

"True, although we do wear the N95 masks at work, which are supposed to afford more protection."

"That's as may be, but after almost two years of the damned pandemic, I think people have to accept the fact that this is no longer a pandemic, but an endemic virus which will come back every year, just like the flu. The virus will spread, and we can't keep everyone wearing masks forever."

"You know I don't disagree. But for now I suppose we should talk about how we are going to deal with things if I end up with Covid."

"Do you want me to head out now and buy a test?"

"It can wait until tomorrow, but I suppose you shouldn't sleep in the same bed with me for now."

He walked around the counter to stand next to her. "Chances are that if you are infected, so am I. It's not as if we keep our distance from one another." He raised an eyebrow. "May I remind you that I've already kissed you several times today? I don't want to sleep away from you. That would be like putting the cart before the horse at this point." As if to prove his lack of concern, he bent his head and kissed her again.

She didn't resist. Why bother, when what he said was true? In almost every family situation she knew of where someone had contracted Covid, the rest of the family had followed suit.

"But what about the girls?" she asked, turning to walk towards the front room.

"If we are lucky, they will be asymptomatic, or end up with a very mild case of the virus," he said, following her. "I have seen nothing to suggest that Omicron is particularly dangerous for children. Covid is always going to pose the most risk for those who are immuno-compromised in some way or to those who have underlying health conditions."

"You're right. We'll just leave this in God's hands, like we did with your parents. I suppose I will have to call Mike to let him know I won't be in tomorrow because that's the protocol after being in close contact with someone who has tested positive."

Sherlock took a seat on the sofa beside Molly and looked over at Victoria, who was showing Christina where to place a piece in the jigsaw puzzle. He slung an arm around her shoulders. "I won't complain about having my wife stay at home tomorrow," he said in a sultry tone that still managed to quicken her heartbeat. It was amazing how he could still find her so attractive when she felt as big as a house. She was pretty sure that she was already almost the size she had been when nine months pregnant with Victoria and Christina. Of course, that wouldn't be a surprise, seeing as there were two precious lives growing inside her. Secretly, she was a little relieved to have a valid reason for staying home from the hospital. She was longing to reach the date she had decided to begin maternity leave, in the middle of March. Mike had already declared she could no longer do post-mortems due to the advancement of her pregnancy, so she spent her days in the lab instead, or doing paperwork.

At least she knew the mortuary was in good hands with Jamie, who had proved to be an effective replacement for her. Even Sherlock, who had examined a couple of the post-mortems done by Jamie for murder investigations, had told Molly the young man was almost as good at his job as she was. High praise indeed from the man who had single-handedly caused the departure of not one, but two of Molly's predecessors at the hospital.

Molly smiled at her husband, so different these days from the man she had met 12 years earlier, and took her phone out of her pocket to call Mike. Fortunately, he was still working.

After she identified herself as the caller, he said, "Hi, Molly. I had a call from Kaitlyn earlier, and, knowing how the two of you have generally been working together in the lab lately, I was actually just planning on calling you myself."

"Sherlock's going to go out and get a test for me to take tomorrow morning."

"Do you have any symptoms?"

"My throat feels slightly scratchy, that's all. But it might be nothing. I hate to leave you in the lurch with both me and Kaitlyn out. It's too bad the Covid guidelines are supposed to be relaxed next week when it comes to self-isolation."

"Don't think twice about it, Molly." Mike's voice was kind, "Even with you and Kaitlyn absent, being aware of your upcoming maternity leave, we've been fortunate to bring on a couple new employees recently."

"Thanks, Mike," she said gratefully. "I'll call you tomorrow as soon as I know the results of the test."

"No problem. Molly," Mike paused a moment, then continued, a little tentatively. "If you do test positive, by the time you are symptom free and able to return to work, you will only be a week or two from the date you scheduled to begin your maternity leave."

Molly furrowed her brow, wondering if he was going to ask her to stay on a little longer to make up for the time she had to miss. But he didn't.

"I was thinking, because I have noticed you look tired lately, coupled with the fact that I took you off mortuary duty so that you do not have to be on your feet for such long periods…" his voice trailed off, as if he was uncertain of what her reaction would be and was worried he might cause offence.

"Yes?" she prompted, glancing at Sherlock, who had left his place beside her to kneel next to Christina to offer his own assistance with the puzzle.

"Well, if you do end up with Covid, how would you feel about just starting your maternity leave now instead of in three weeks? That way you wouldn't need to come back for what would probably be just a week" A moment's pause, then he added, "Not that I want to push you out the door, of course. I just want to make sure you are taking care of yourself, and carrying twins is definitely more taxing than carrying one baby."

Molly swallowed, feeling again that slight tickle in her throat that might or might not be her imagination. "I actually think that's a good idea," she said. "I'll talk it over with Sherlock. I'll let you know about that as well, after I have the test results."

Sherlock glanced at her but did not speak until she ended the call. "What do you want to talk over with me?"

She noticed Victoria had lifted her head to listen. "Let's talk about it once the girls are in bed for the night."

He nodded.

A couple of hours later, Molly decided she was not imagining the tickle in her throat. It was starting to bother her, and Sherlock insisted on getting the girls ready for bed so she could go to bed early herself.

Molly didn't argue. It was probably best she try to keep her distance from them anyway. She did feel very tired, but that was a common enough occurrence these days. It was as if the twins drained her energy.

She undressed and climbed into bed. She managed only to say a short prayer to ask for God's protection for her and the babies if she did turn out to have Covid, and for protection for Sherlock and their daughters as well, before drifting off into dreamland.

Molly only woke when she felt Sherlock's arm loop across her middle from behind as he usually did. She knew he loved to caress her belly and to feel the occasional flutters of movement from their unborn sons.

She shifted slightly and gave a contented murmur. His body was so warm against hers.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," he said softly, the thumb of his left hand stroking her belly.

"It's okay. I wanted to tell you about Mike's suggestion." She cleared her throat. It felt like there was a lump in it and she coughed a little to dislodge it, without success.

"That is not a good sign," Sherlock said, raising himself up on his elbow to look at her in the darkness that was illuminated only by the alarm clock. She knew he was not referring to what she had said about Mike.

"I do have a little sore throat," she admitted, "and I feel as if I have a lump in it that I can't clear."

His hand moved from her abdomen to her forehead. "At least you don't feel feverish."

"I'm sure if I was, you would have noticed it when you snuggled against me," she pointed out with a little giggle.

"True. Now what was it you wanted to discuss with me?" His hand returned to her abdomen.

"He suggested that if I test positive for Covid, I don't worry about returning to the hospital before I'm due to go on maternity leave."

"That makes sense. I've noticed how you get tired very quickly. It's your first trimester all over again."

Molly's lips quirked. The unusual fatigue had been one of the first symptoms that had manifested with this pregnancy, although it had gone away during her second trimester. But now there was the added complication of feeling the weight of the babies, and the frequency of her bladder urges were as elevated as when she had been at the end of her other pregnancies. She felt a little embarrassed at how often she had to leave the lab to use the toilet. It was a good thing she was not doing post-mortems too, because she would have just had to grit her teeth and will her bladder to hold on until she was finished with an autopsy. Twice, she had barely made it to the loo in time after a particularly intensive one.

Thoughts of those frequent bladder urges led Molly to realise she needed to use the loo. She was quite certain that one of the twins was having fun poking at her bladder. She wiggled away from Sherlock's arm.

"What's wrong?"

"Loo," she explained, sliding out of the bed and grabbing her dressing gown for modesty's sake.

Molly unlocked the bedroom door. After Victoria had almost caught her and Sherlock in a rather indelicate situation last month when she woke unexpectedly one night, Sherlock had explained that Victoria must knock on the door if she needed something, rather than just opening it. But he and Molly had decided locking the door was the best way to ensure there was no repeat of that little incident which had required some fast talking to explain why they were not wearing pyjamas. It was fortunate that Victoria had not questioned them about why they were so hot when it was winter. So far, there had been no more nocturnal adventures on their daughter's part.

Molly used the toilet and returned to the bedroom, locking it again and hanging her dressing gown behind the door. Once again, she felt the need to clear her throat of that lump which didn't want to go away. She coughed as well. Still no luck.

Sherlock lifted the covers for her to slide beneath. "Yeah, I say the probability that you have Covid is pretty high."

"What, no exact percentage of probability?"

He chuckled. "Too many variables, but let's just say the preponderance of the evidence would suggest it is more likely than not."

"I guess you had better keep away from me then if you don't want to catch it."

"It is highly unlikely I would escape contracting the virus if you have it, so I am not going to try," he said, pulling her into his embrace. "Besides, I already said I refuse to stay away from you."

"It's your funeral," she quipped, then added, "Oh, that was a terrible joke, given the circumstances."

"Molly?"

"What?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

She did, and there was no more talking for quite some time.

By the time Molly fell asleep again, with Sherlock holding her from behind as usual, she was not thinking about anything beyond how fortunate she was to have a husband who adored her.


Author's note: We'll leave it there for now. I don't know about you, dear readers, but I am more than ready to resume life as it was before Covid came along.

What did you think of this chapter? Have you or any of your family been affected by Covid? Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences. Whether you agree or disagree with Sherlock and Molly's thoughts on Omicron, you are entitled to have your own ideas about things.