Author's note: This story was unplanned. In fact, I've been working on my Valentine's Day story. But, some sad news from the UK prompted me to write another story first because it concerns the death of someone who became prominent during the pandemic, and I wish to pay homage to him by writing this one-shot.


Tuesday, 2nd February 2021

Molly leaned her arms forward on the kitchen island counter and took a few deep breaths. She had been chopping the bacon and vegetables to make one of Sherlock's favourite dishes, her fettuccine Alfredo, but she needed just a minute to deal with her discomfort.

She'd felt the period pains last night. Yes, she'd experienced discomfort from them in the past, on occasion, but she had not had an actual period since the one before she and Sherlock had married in August of 2017. First, she had fallen pregnant with Victoria on her honeymoon, and then with Christina whilst still breastfeeding Victoria. She had not had a period whilst breastfeeding. Now, finally, her cycle had decided to resume more than a month after weaning Christina.

She winced, feeling that tiny clench in her womb that mimicked in a small way the feeling of contractions. Little though it was, compared to labour, it was still distinctly uncomfortable.

The cramps had been coming and going all day, and she decided it was time to seek some pain relief, so she went to the cupboard in which she kept medications and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen.

Taking a glass from the cupboard, she put it under the fridge's water dispenser and filled the glass partway, then took two tablets with the water. Hopefully, they would help.

She was just about to continue chopping the green pepper she had begun a few minutes earlier, when she heard Martha's voice calling from the front room.

"Molly, come in here a minute. There's something sad that just came on the news."

Molly walked to the front room. The newscaster was talking about Captain Sir Tom Moore, and that he had passed away a short time earlier.

Molly sat on the sofa, feeling a sudden wash of sorrow. The story of Captain Tom and the 100 laps he took around his garden with his walker in advance of his 100th birthday had become inextricably linked with the pandemic The way he had sought to raise just £1000, but ended up raising £32m for the NHS was something undoubtedly for the history books. He had even gone on to record a version of You'll Never Walk Alone, with well-known West End singer/actor Michael Ball, and he had been a source of inspiration to the whole nation. Earning a knighthood from the queen had been the centenarian's crowning achievement.

"Oh, this really is so sad," she said in agreement with Martha's words.

Victoria stood up in the playpen from where she had been entertaining her sister. "What's sad, Mummy?"

Molly looked at her, contemplating how to answer. Victoria was a little young to understand the concept of death, so she decided not to address it for now. "It's nothing for you to worry about, princess. Just something on the television."

Fortunately, Victoria seemed satisfied with that and sat again to resume entertaining Christina. She had recently discovered Christina would giggle uncontrollably when Victoria would put her hands in front of her eyes, then remove them and say "Peekaboo!"

Childish laughter filled the air, a counterpoint to Martha's next comment. "When they said on the news on Sunday that he had been taken to hospital with pneumonia and had tested positive for COVID, I was worried this might happen."

Molly nodded. "And because of the medication he was taking for the pneumonia, he hadn't yet had the vaccine. It's so heartbreaking." As she spoke, she heard Sherlock coming down the stairs.

"Finished my client consultation and solved the case as usual," he said from the doorway, then added, "What's so heartbreaking?"

Molly gestured at the television. "If you watch, you'll see for yourself. Captain Sir Tom just passed away."

His expression changed to one of sympathy. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Was he ill?"

"I guess you weren't watching the telly on Sunday when we heard he'd been taken to hospital with pneumonia and he tested positive for COVID."

"Oh." He paused, then said, "I know he will be missed and mourned by many people aside from his close family. He was a shining example for us all."

Molly was quite proud of Sherlock for not mentioning how fortunate it was that he had had had a good long life. A few months earlier, he'd made a comment like that about Dame Vera Lynn, when she had passed away at the age of 103. Molly had told him off for being insensitive, pointing out that it didn't matter how old someone was, the grief of family was just as intense. She smiled at his more sensitive comment in this occasion. "Yes, he was."

Her smile faded a little when Sherlock said, "So, when's dinner? I'm feeling quite hungry. I skipped lunch."

"That was your own fault, Sherlock," she pointed out with a roll of her eyes. "You were busy on your laptop upstairs, and when I offered to make you a sandwich, you said you weren't hungry."

He pursed his lips. "Well, it's true, I wasn't hungry then, but I am now."

Molly was about to make a sharp retort, when Martha intervened. "Molly was in the kitchen, preparing dinner when I called her to come and take a look at the news. You should also know that your wife has been having some rather unfortunate menstrual pains today, and I insisted she take it easy and sit on the sofa for a while earlier."

Sherlock immediately became solicitous. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. What were you planning on making? I can take care of it. Do you need to lie down?" He walked over to look down at her, reaching for her hand.

"it's fine, Sherlock. I took a couple ibuprofen a few minutes ago. I was in the middle of chopping the vegetables for fettuccine Alfredo when Martha called me in here."

Sherlock's eyes lit up. "You're making one of my favourites? I know how to help with that."

Molly giggled and looked over at Martha. "The first time he helped me make it, when we were engaged, I asked him to grate me some parmesan, and he grated the entire block of cheese."

Sherlock huffed. "That was the first time. I have improved significantly since then. I even know that you fry the bacon first, then add the other vegetables before adding the cream for the sauce. Oh, and you do the mushrooms near the end because they don't take long to cook."

Molly grinned at her husband. He was definitely improving in his cooking skills. "I guess if you want to help with dinner to have it ready faster, you can, as long as Martha is okay with continuing to keep an eye on the girls."

"Of course I am." Martha looked over at the playpen. "They are being as good as gold."

Molly saw that Victoria had obviously become bored with playing peekaboo and was now helping her sister put shapes into her wooden cube, guiding her hand to the correct cutout that matched the shape.

"Okay then," said Molly, standing.

As she and Sherlock worked to prepare the dinner, Molly said, "I'm a bit worried about Martha moving back to Baker Street this weekend when she has only had the first vaccination against COVID."

"I know, Molly, but it is her decision. I'm thankful my parents received both doses before the government decided to increase the wait time for the second dose because of the limited supply." Sherlock put the chopped up bacon into the frying pan and turned on the element.

Molly shook her head. "I know their intentions are good, but the effectiveness of the vaccine was determined in the clinical trials by administering two doses, three weeks apart. There's no way to determine how effective a single dose is." With the vegetables ready for the frying pan, Molly went to the fridge and extracted the plastic-wrapped block of parmesan cheese.

Sherlock glanced at her. "Would you like to take over here with the bacon and add the peppers and onions at the right time? I know you do that better than I do. I can grate the cheese."

"Are you sure you won't grate too much?" she teased.

Sherlock didn't look at her as he responded. "Molly, that was years ago. It was one time. And I really didn't appreciate you embarrassing me in front of Martha that way and bringing up something so trivial. I have enough shortcomings as it is."

Surprise and guilt washed over her at the genuine hurt in his tone. She was so used to Sherlock having a thick skin, that she tended to forget he too could be hurt by a careless phrase. He normally took things so good-naturedly, but he was right. There had been no reason to bring up something that had occurred only once, more than three years ago. Yes, she had thought it funny, but that didn't mean that it was funny to Sherlock.

She set down the cheese on the counter and walked to stand behind his stiffened posture, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his back. "Sherlock, I'm so sorry. You're right, And I won't tease you about that again. Can you forgive me?" She shifted her head to press a kiss to his back, which relaxed.

He turned then and put his own arms around her. "Of course I forgive you. It would take you a lifetime of teasing to reach the amount of thoughtless comments I've made to you over the years, Molly." He lowered his head to give her a reassuring kiss.

That was her Sherlock. He had never been one to hold a grudge, and their little disagreements never lasted long.

He raised his head. "I love you, Molly."

She smiled. They said those words several times each day, yet she never tired of hearing them. Sometimes they were initiated by him, other times by her. "I love you too. I guess I'd better get to that bacon and to adding the peppers and onions while you take care of the cheese."

"Sounds good to me." He placed a hand on her lower belly. "How are your pains?"

"I think the ibuprofen is working. Wish I'd been smart enough to take the tablets earlier in the day when the cramps were at their worst, but I really hate taking medication."

"I know, but the reason it exists is to make life a little easier. We can be grateful we have such easy access to pain relief."

They returned to working on the meal preparation and continued their conversation. "True, but I still don't care to take tablets any more than absolutely necessary."

"You were agreeable to having an epidural when you were in labour with Victoria."

She gave a snort of laughter. "That was entirely different. Labour pain is far more intense, and I didn't feel the need to be a hero to endure them."

"Yet you managed without the epidural for Christina."

"Not from choice," she reminded him. "My labour was too far advanced for it to be effective by the time we got to the hospital."

"Speaking of labour," Sherlock said, "If you get pregnant again, do you think you will want to have an epidural, or just stick with the less invasive pain relief you were given with Christina?"

Molly paused in her stirring of the vegetables in the frying pan. "I haven't really thought about it, to be honest. I know at the time the pain was pretty awful when I was in labour with Christina, but childbirth is one of those odd things where you don't remember how bad the pain was afterwards, aside from intellectually. And I have to admit, it was good to not have to wait for the numbness in my legs to wear off afterwards, as I did with Victoria. So, I guess I'll have to think about that if and when the time comes."

He nodded and gestured to the cheese he had grated. "Good enough?" When she nodded, he went to the cupboard that housed their saucepans and brought one out for the pasta.

With their teamwork, dinner was ready in less than half an hour. Molly quite enjoyed it when she and Sherlock worked together. Once Martha returned to Baker Street, that would be unlikely, as someone would have to keep Victoria and Christina occupied during the time of dinner preparations.

Over dinner, they discussed Martha's plans to return to Baker Street on Saturday.

"You're one hundred percent sure you want to do this?" asked Sherlock. "You know you will still need to stay indoors as much as possible? You won't want to just pop to the shops and feel secure about being protected against the virus, because you still have to wait a few weeks for the second dose of the vaccination."

Martha set down her fork. "I know that, Sherlock. To be honest, it isn't even so much about being able to go places. I miss my home." Molly saw a slight smirk appear on her face. "And I miss having a telly in my bedroom to watch before going to sleep."

Molly spoke up after offering Christina a spoonful of pasta. "We could buy a television for your bedroom."

"No, dear," said Martha firmly. "I will be happy to be around my things again, but I hope you will come and visit me often with Victoria and Christina."

Sherlock nodded. "Of course we will. And I will be happy to do shopping for you again."

Molly was startled to see Victoria slip off her cushioned seat, which Sherlock had forgotten, not for the first time, to buckle, and run around the table to Martha, putting her arms around the elderly woman's waist.

"No go bye-bye, Nanny Huds!"

Martha put a hand out to stroke her hair affectionately. "Nanny has to go back to her house, but don't worry, your mummy and daddy will bring you over to visit."

Victoria shook her head as Molly saw tears fill her eyes. "No, Nanny, stay!"

Martha leaned down towards Victoria. "Tell you,what. Once Nanny is back in her house, you and Christina can come for a special sleepover. You cam sleep in the big bed with Nanny, and Christina can sleep in the cot. How does that sound?"

To Molly's relief, this seemed to placate Victoria. "Pwomise?"

"I promise," said Martha.

Sherlock stood and escorted Victoria back to her seat, this time buckling the strap over her legs. "Now, finish your dinner, Victoria," he said, "and afterwards we can play the Memory game."

"And play vi'lin?" she asked.

"And play violin," he agreed.

After dinner, Sherlock and Martha played the Memory match game with Victoria, while Molly entertained Christina at the other end of the table. She helped Christina put together her animal block puzzle.

Afterwards, Sherlock gave Victoria a little violin "lesson".Then, at Martha's insistence, he played some violin tunes, both classical ones and nursery rhymes he had learned to play by ear. Molly was delighted when he played the beautiful tune he had composed for her to play at their wedding reception.

She wasn't surprised when Sherlock finished playing with a flourish, and Martha said, "Such a beautiful piece of music. It sounded vaguely familiar. Who composed it?"

"It's the one I composed for Molly, which I played at our wedding reception," Sherlock explained.

Victoria, unsurprisingly, insisted on Sherlock playing "Hick'ry Dick'ry Dock" before he could put the violin away. Classical music was definitely a bit advanced for the taste of a two-and-a- half-year-old. Christina was unimpressed with any of the violin music, preferring to pull around her rotary phone toy.

Aside from the sad news about Captain Tom, it was a day much like any other, Molly reflected later, as she undressed for bed. She supposed people might think of it as mundane, doing those everyday things, but she cherished every moment spent with her family.

Victoria and Christina were sleeping peacefully in their rooms, and Martha had retired to bed half an hour earlier.

She and Sherlock read that day's devotion from Our Daily Bread. There were times when they got behind on it by a day or two, and sometimes they had to do a bit of catching up. This often happened when Molly had had a long day at work.

After reading, they settled themselves beneath the duvet. Obviously, there was no question of making love right now.

"How are you feeling, love?" Sherlock asked, kissing the back of her neck as they spooned in their usual manner. "Any more pains?"

"Only a twinge now and then. I did take another couple of tablets while you were in the shower."

"I feel rather ignorant for asking this, but how long do these pains usually last? It has been so long since you had a regular menstrual cycle that I don't recall clearly how long they last." His hand moved over her lower abdomen, as if to soothe any pains she might have.

"I know some women who get terrible cramps each month. Fortunately, it has never been that bad for me, and it would vary from month to month. When I do feel those twinges, they usually begin shortly before my period starts, but they are almost always gone by the second day."

"And how long should I expect your menstruation to last? When will we be able to make love again?"

Molly had to grin at his use of the technical term for a period. Just as he preferred to use the word flatulence to more common, colloquial terminology, it was rather endearing. She giggled as his hand traced the line of her belly, then moved upwards until it was covering her breast as was their usual custom for sleeping. "Five to seven days."

He made a sound of discontentment. "So long? I suppose I should be grateful we haven't had to worry about this monthly cycle of yours until now. Don't misunderstand me, I am glad to have possession of your breasts again, now that you aren't breastfeeding," a gentle squeeze here of the breast he was cupping, "but there is definitely a trade-off. By my calculations, Valentine's Day should fall around your fertile period, and I shall endeavour to relieve you of this unenviable monthly condition."

She tilted her head towards him and snorted with laughter. "The pregnant condition, with the nausea of the first trimester and the fatigue and constant bladder urges of the third trimester, sounds like a good trade-off to me."

He shifted his weight to lean over to press a kiss to her lips. "Seriously though, are you prepared to go through it again? I feel I am ready for another child, and we did talk about it a few weeks ago, but if you have changed your mind-"

She interrupted him. "I haven't changed my mind, Sherlock. As I've said before, I'm ready to accept whatever God gives us." Then she added honestly, "I would be happy with another girl, of course, but I am a little disappointed that our daughters seem to be more like me with straight hair, and I'd love a miniature Sherlock."

He gave her a sultry glance. "I cannot guarantee the gender of our future offspring, but I can promise to make my best effort in affording you the opportunity to have your wish."

She smiled with contentment. She certainly had no complaints about how well loved she was by her husband, or how frequently he displayed it. "I know you will. Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

They resumed their previous positions, and Molly fell into slumber, nestled in the protective embrace of the husband she adored.


Author's note: This will ostensibly conclude my COVID-19 sub-series. Future stories, although they follow the same timeline, will just be part of my ongoing Journey series. There will probably still be mentions of the virus in future stories, but, unless something significant happens, I will not be focussing on the pandemic. I have plans for showing some serious events that will occur in their timeline this year. For those of you who have read my future story, A Journey through Loss, you may be able to guess what serious event will be happening. I don't wish to spoil it for those who have not read that story, though. Let's just say, life isn't a bed of roses, and ups and downs are a part of real life.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this unplanned story for what it was, a chance to talk about Sherlock and Molly's future plans, to show Molly being the insensitive one for once (I know, how shocking she isn't always perfect), but most especially, to relate the end of the life journey for Captain Sir Tom. If only the world could know about what an inspiration he was. I really wish my country of the United States paid more attention to stories of accomplishment and goodwill in other countries, like that of Captain Sir Tom, rather than the doom, gloom and divisiveness surrounding our current political climate. We need more stories of hope like Captain Sir Tom's, don't you think? I hope at least my American readers, who may not have heard of this remarkable man otherwise, will tell other people about his achievements as a symbol of hope during the pandemic.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this story, if you feel so inclined. Feel free to add your own tribute to Captain Sir Tom in your review.