Catching Up

Genre: Family, Friendship

Pairings: Greg and Molly, Sherlock and Sally, both in the background

Main characters: Molly and Sherlock

Molly smiled at Sherlock as she watched him approach her carrying a cup of steaming hot coffee. It had been a long morning already in the lab and she really needed a pick-me-up.

Mostly though, she needed a good old fashioned catch-up visit with Sherlock. No particular reason – she just missed him, was all.

It wasn't as though they never saw each other – she and Greg lived in the basement flat at the same address Sherlock had lived in for years. It had been chance and circumstance that had brought everyone together at Baker Street, but sometimes, Molly thought, they had actually managed to visit more with each other before she and Greg had moved their growing little family into 221C.

Molly found that it really was true – the closer you lived to your friends, the less likely you were to actually spend time with them. She didn't need to wonder why that was – Greg, ever so casually wise, had pointed out that humans had an unfortunate tendency to take for granted things and people that they saw as being close enough to put off for another day – simply on the assumption that they could do that any old time and there was no rush.

Sherlock had been thinking the exact same thing. This morning, a case that Greg had brought him in on in order to verify his team's own theories had resulted in a need to, in turn, consult with Molly, and utilize some of the equipment in her lab. For Sherlock, it seemed a perfect opportunity for coffee and catching up. It wasn't as though he felt any pressing need to talk to her about anything, he quite simply missed her as well.

"You know, I swear I see that damnable cat of yours more often than I see you these days, Molly," Sherlock smiled as he handed over the steamy mug. "Why Mrs. Hudson lets him have the run of the place is beyond me. He's a detestable creature at times," he teased.

"One word, Sherlock. Mice. She caught him with a big fat one once coming out of her foyer and ever since then she worships him. Between ourselves I think she bribes him with cream and belly rubs. Toby has become Baker Street's consulting mouser."

Sherlock said nothing, simply tilting his head as he took a sip out of his own mug. "Well, I suppose even Toby has his uses. Sally seems to like him as well. What is it about women and cats, anyway? Why are they so utterly charmed by such an aloof, unfeeling creature as that?"

Molly giggled. "Oh, I really have no idea Sherlock. Really, I don't." She raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a crooked smile. "I'm sure Sally doesn't have any idea either."

"Well, Sally always has an opinion about… oh. Very funny, Molly Lestrade. How many times have I told you not to bother making jokes?" Sherlock sounded irritated, but the shine in his eyes and the grin betrayed his true context.

"So what was it about Sally that was so different from me, Sherlock?" Molly asked, as they set to work preparing the samples Sherlock had brought with him. "You pushed me towards Greg because you told me I deserved better. Why was Sally different?"

Sherlock was silent for a few moments, appearing to have left Molly's query unheard as he adjusted equipment and prepared petri dishes and slides.

"I'm not sure," Sherlock finally said, breaking the momentary silence. "I suppose Sally's heart is… I don't want to say stronger than yours, necessarily. You put up with my bullshit for years and never once did you stop loving me. That's as strong as a woman's heart can be, really."

"There are different kinds of strong in a woman's heart, Sherlock," Molly said softly. "Maybe I was just stubborn enough that it came across as strength."

Sherlock was quiet again as he pondered, taking a few moments to finish preparing his first sample for the microscope. "You let me go, Molly, when I asked you to. When I told you Greg was better for you than I could ever be. Sometimes, I believe, letting go takes just as much strength of heart as holding on." He turned and smiled softly at her, his eyes crinkling with warmth.

Molly nodded, staring off at nothing for a few seconds before glancing back up at him. She turned her attention back to her equipment before saying, "Greg is the same kind of strong as I am, I suppose. That's why we're better suited to each other than you and I ever were. While I was busy letting go of the idea of you, Greg was holding on to the idea of me." She sighed softly, allowing her attention to turn to preliminary findings that were beginning to show themselves in Sherlock's samples.

"Sally is altogether different though. She's your kind of strong, Sherlock. The kind of strong that wouldn't even let either of you see how much you loved eachother, because you both believed wholeheartedly that the entire notion was utterly absurd."

Sherlock nodded, allowing his conversation to distract him from his work. "Sally is passionately strong. She believes with passion, she angers with passion, she loves with passion. Everything she does is with such passion. I believe that serves her well on Greg's team. She can be like a dog with a bone when she gets a theory into her head," he chuckled.

"Sounds like someone else I know," Molly teased as she walked over to her lab printer. Removing the printouts, she studied them briefly before walking back towards Sherlock and handing them to him to look at. "You've done a few things yourself to protect your loved ones that the average person would never even dream of doing."

Molly paused to change her sample. "She's going to be a fiercely protective parent, you realize. She's going to be a vicious mother bear. I've watched her with the children, she'd throw herself in front of a bus to protect them, and they aren't even hers." Molly turned to Sherlock to hand him the new sample she had just prepared. "Oh Sherlock, I'm so happy and relieved that this time, things seem to be going well," she said happily.

Sherlock nodded, smiling again. "She didn't even argue with Greg when he put her on desk duty. She won't admit it to him but I think he knows damned well that she was relieved to be off her feet," he chuckled. "She made a pretense of protesting but Greg tells me the first thing she did when she sat down was kick off her shoes and smile blissfully. Their cases these past months don't involve a lot of legwork," he pointed out casually. "She would have been at her desk for much of it anyway."

"So do you have any names picked out yet?" Molly hinted slyly. She caught Sherlock's raised eyebrow and returned a mischievous smile.

"Oh, a few come to mind." He paused for effect. "We were thinking 'Michael Victor' for one. I refuse to name my son 'Mycroft' and my brother wholeheartedly agrees with me for once. He suggested Michael as a suitable substitute, and one less likely to get him beat up on the school yard. Sally likes it a lot. My wife doesn't like names that you can't find on a coffee mug, for some reason," he chuckled.

Molly smiled, thinking that Sherlock and Sally had far more baby naming sense than Sherlock's parents had ever had. "Any other names spring to mind?" Molly asked, as she casually raised her cooling coffee to her lips to take a sip.

"Grace," Sherlock said softly. "We haven't come up with a suitable middle name yet, but there can be no question that our daughter must be named Grace, after everything her mother has gone through to give her life."

"Hmmmm…" Molly pondered. "Grace Molly. Grace Martha. Grace Louise… Louise is Mrs. Hudson's middle name of course. Grace Sally, Grace Donna…" she trailed off, not sure about any of the suggestions, though she liked the idea of Mrs. Hudson being included. Molly was fairly certain that there would be no more newborns in 221 Baker Street once Sally and Sherlock brought theirs forth.

"All are reasonable," Sherlock conceded. "Molly," he said, trailing off and looking at her curiously. "This isn't common knowledge yet, John of course knows, and Greg knows as well, but I don't know if he's said anything to you or not, or if he has, how much he's mentioned. It would seem that once again a long-held belief of mine is being thoroughly browbeaten and humbled by the process of human reproduction."

Molly smiled. "The theory that it's never twins?"

Sherlock grinned proudly to himself, his eyes lowered but shining. "Yes. Once again, I am being shown that indeed, sometimes, it IS twins."

Even though she had already known that much, Molly would have thrown herself at Sherlock in a congratulatory hug if they hadn't been surrounded by open chemicals, obscenely expensive lab equipment, and irreplaceable forensics samples. "Greg did mention twins, but he wouldn't reveal gender. I know he knows, but he wouldn't say. He told me it wasn't his division when I asked him," she laughed. "He felt it wasn't his place to spoil your surprise."

"Well, I appreciate his discretion," Sherlock replied, "he is a loyal friend and true… Sally and I discussed it and well, her obstetrician and John both agree that she's far enough along now that a good result is more likely than not. We couldn't decide if we'd prefer a girl or a boy once we'd allowed ourselves to think that far ahead,' he said thoughtfully. "Of course in the end it doesn't matter, a healthy baby is really all we desire… but as it turns out, we get to have one of each in one felled swoop."

Molly turned to him, face beaming. "Sherlock, that is glorious news. Congratulations, oh my Baker Street is going to be bursting at the seams soon! It's a good thing Rosie is big enough to be in school all day now," she laughed.

Sherlock nodded happily. Yes, Baker Street was indeed going to be very close quarters soon, but if you were to ask anyone living there, they wouldn't have it any other way.