Six months later...

A lot had happened in the six months that had elapsed since Sherlock and Molly had spent that night in the inn, celebrating their love for one another.

Sherlock had been on hand to witness The Black Pearl dock in the harbour, and to see the treasure safely brought to shore. On the last day, a rough storm had assaulted the vessel, which had delayed its arrival by a day, and one sailor had been washed overboard. Sherlock had been secretly pleased that the victim had been the sailor who had accosted his wife. Poetic justice, he thought with grim satisfaction, upon hearing the news. Molly, with her soft heart, had expressed sadness at the loss, but he knew she too was secretly relieved that there would no longer be any chance of the man seeking vengeance upon them for his treatment at Sherlock's hands.

Queen Victoria herself had been so delighted with the safe return of her new jewels, and that Moriarty was no longer a threat to her subjects, that she had conferred upon Sherlock the newly created title of the Earl of Sherrinford, in honour of the name of the ship that had been instrumental in defeating the notorious criminal. Sherlock cared nothing for titles, of course, but he was rather proud to have been able to give his beloved wife the title of the Countess of Sherrinford as a result.

In addition, Sherlock had of coarse received his enormous reward as well, with which he was able to purchase the Hooper mansion which had indeed been rightfully claimed by Molly. They were now living there comfortably, although Sherlock still frequented his former residence in order to use it as an establishment where he continued working as a private detective. Surprisingly, Captain Greg Lestrade had decided to abandon his sea captain position in order to return to his former profession as a young man, when he had been a detective at Scotland Yard, before feeling the call of the sea. The near miss during that last mission had convinced him he belonged on land. Sherlock's assistance with some tricky cases had already helped him receive a promotion to detective inspector, and he consulted Sherlock regularly for help with more difficult cases.

Sherlock and Molly were also greatly anticipating the birth of their first child, which Sherlock believed had been conceived aboard ship. John had informed Sherlock that, due to Molly's rather large girth, that she might be having twins.

Sherlock had scoffed at that notion. "It's never twins, John," he exclaimed, and John head just shaken his head in amusement.

"It may never be twins when you are trying to determine a killer in one of those murder investigations of yours, but twins can certainly occur in pregnancy. You'll see."

Sherlock was still unconvinced, and the men now had a sizable wager riding upon it. In addition, Sherlock had agreed to another wager, that if it was indeed twins, and there was a boy, that he would name the child Hamish, in honour of John's middle name. Sherlock was confident that would not happen, however. In fact, he felt certain he was having a daughter, not a son. Sherlock looked forward to winning the bet, because it meant John would have to name his firstborn child, Sherlock, whether a boy or girl.

Now, he took Molly's hand as they walked towards their carriage to return home after attending the wedding celebration of John and Mary.

"You look so wonderful tonight, Sherlock," said Molly with a caressing note in her voice as he assisted her into the carriage. "And you acquitted yourself very well in the best man speech which I know you were worried about."

"Thank you, my love," responded Sherlock as he sat next to her, stretching out his legs while settling an arm around her shoulders.

She turned her head to kiss his cheek. "The way you even talked about some of the investigations you have done with John over the years when he has been available and not working as a doctor, it was remarkable hearing about your past exploits."

Sherlock smirked. "John and I have indeed been a good team over the years, but of course soon I will be needing him for his doctor skills to deliver our baby, rather than as an assistant in my detective practice. That is now my priority, rather than taking on new cases." Even as he spoke the words, he knew it was the truth. He still enjoyed helping out at Scotland Yard with various investigations, and with his private consulting practice, but he no longer craved those dangerous missions that had once been so important to him. Mycroft understood his new priorities, and despite the fact that he bemoaned the loss of his brother as a spy, Sherlock knew he was secretly looking forward to becoming an uncle.

Even after six months, Sherlock was amazed at the unexpected way in which he had found love. Molly never failed to inspire him, to make him want to be a better man. Six months earlier, he would have scoffed at the idea of attending church regularly, but now he did so and was glad of it. He had come to a new understanding that he was loved by God as well as his wife, and he believed now, as she didd, that their meeting had not been mere chance, but Providence.

"I've had a lovely day," murmured Molly, snuggling against him, "but I'm so tired after such a long day, and a bit uncomfortable as well."

Sherlock looked at her in concern, kissing her hair. "Well, you can't do this anymore, can you? No more long outings until the baby is born."

She sighed a little wistfully. "I guess you're right. I am so happy for John and Mary, though. She looked so lovely in her wedding gown."

Sherlock's hand squeezed her shoulder. "Do you regret not having a proper wedding of your own? Perhaps we should have arranged for a special church ceremony when we returned to London."

She looked up at him then. "My only regret is in that you did not get the chance to see me in a white gown, walking down the aisle towards you. I do not care for any of the pomp and circumstance that goes along with big weddings, nor do I have the relatives to fill a church. I am quite content in just having you as my husband. The precipitate manner in which we married is of no consequence."

"It certainly changed the direction of my life," commented Sherlock, reaching his hand to gently touch his wife's abdomen. "How could I have known the prospect of being a father would fill me with such anticipation. I cannot wait to meet our daughter."

Molly looked at him from beneath her lashes. "You are very certain of yourself, Sherlock. But what if it is a son, or indeed the twins which John expects?"

Sherlock crossed his legs and raised his hand to tilt his wife's chin and give her a soft kiss on the lips. "Whatever happens, my main concern is that you and our baby, or possibly babies, are healthy."

When Molly unexpectedly went into labour two and a half months later, Sherlock was panic stricken. Surely it was not yet time for her to give birth? He immediately dispatched a footman to send word to John that he should come immediately and attend to Molly.

Fortunately, John was home after a day in his own doctor's consulting rooms, and he was able to come immediately.

Mrs. Hudson, who had taken up residence in their mansion, in order to become the full-time cook, was also on hand with hot water and towels for the impending birth, as well as blankets in which to swaddle the baby, or possibly babies, as John continued to insist there was more than one child.

Although it was difficult for Sherlock to hear the cries of pain from his wife, and John said that husbands did not usually remain in the room while their wives were in the process of giving birth, Sherlock insisted on remaining beside Molly. He held her hand, even as at times she squeezed it so tightly he thought she might break it. His own fleeting pain was nothing compared to what she was going through.

In the early hours of the morning, Molly finally gave birth to a baby, a tiny girl who immediately screwed up her face and squalled loudly, showing that her small size did not mean underdeveloped lungs. Mrs. Hudson immediately took the baby and swaddled her, even as Sherlock bent over and kissed his wife's forehead which was unsurprisingly dampened with perspiration from her long hours of exertion.

"I told you it was a girl," he couldn't help crowing a little as he looked from his wife to John, then back at her. "I'm so proud of you, my love."

Molly smiled weakly at him and then her face contorted with pain once again, and Sherlock frowned. Wasn't the hard part over?

He looked with concern over at his friend, who pronounced, "See, Sherlock, I told you there was more than one baby, the other one will shortly make its entrance."

Sherlock's mouth dropped open in surprise. So, he had miscalculated once again, a rare occurrence, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. He could live with losing the wager to his friend, but naming a son Hamish would be torture for him, so he hoped for a second daughter.

He held Molly's hand once again as she bore down and only minutes later John produced the second baby, which was a son. For a moment, Sherlock was piqued, but then he thought in wonder, I have both a son and a daughter. How blessed am I?

Molly's hand relaxed in his own and her laboured breathing slowly returned to normal, now that her hard work was done.

The new baby also made his presence known with a loud cry, and soon both mother and father were given the opportunity to hold one of their newborns, whom John declared to be perfectly healthy.

Mrs. Hudson hovered about the new parents, clucking delightedly over the babies, whom she declared were both absolutely perfect.

Mrs. Hudson took Sherlock's son from him for a moment, and he bent over to kiss his wife's sweet lips, even as he brushed the damp hair from her forehead. "You have blessed me so much, my sweet, perfect little wife."

"We are both blessed," she responded, her voice a little stronger than it had been earlier.

He was fascinated to look down at his daughter's tiny, red, scrunched up face, and was rather irritated when John interrupted his reverie.

"Well, Sherlock, it appears you owe me some money, and I think I should get the opportunity to hold young Hamish now."

Sherlock straightened, looked over at John and frowned. "Must we really name him that?"

John folded his arms. "A wager is a wager, Sherlock, and you are honour bound to follow through."

Sherlock huffed. "Hamish it is," he muttered grudgingly, taking the baby from Mrs. Hudson's arms again. "I'm sorry, son," he murmured, before handing the infant to his best friend.

As if lamenting about his own name, the baby wailed lustily. "Young Hamish certainly has a pair of lungs on him, does he not?" remarked John with a smile at his friend.

"That is because he is upset with his name," Sherlock responded mournfully. Then he suddenly had an idea. "I don't use my first name, so I shall just call him by his middle name." He smirked at John, whose turn it was to frown.

"Might've known you'd find a way to get out of using it," his friend remarked in an aggrieved tone. "And what name, may I ask, will you use instead?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I have no idea, I was not expecting us to have a son, so we are not prepared."

Mrs. Hudson interrupted their conversation. "Have you thought of a name for your daughter, then?"

Molly spoke from the bed. "I have always liked the name Louise, I had a friend in school by that name, so we have decided to name her Louise Martha Holmes."

Mrs. Hudson made an exclamation of delight. "Oh, my dear, what an honour it is that you are using my name! May I hold her for a moment?"

"Of course," replied Molly, smiling at the elderly woman, who gently took the baby from her arms.

Sherlock then retrieved his son from John. Molly had not yet held the son she had laboured to give birth to, and he decided it was past time she do so. He carried the infant over and placed him in Molly's arms, then asked, "Well, my love, what shall we give him as a middle name, that we may call him by that name?" He slid a sly glance over at John who pursed his lips.

Molly gazed at her son lovingly. "We have received a double blessing today, my love. Why not use the name which means blessing - Benedict?"

Sherlock smiled. "Hamish Benedict Holmes it is." He bent over and kissed his son's tiny cheek, then whispered, "Don't worry, you don't need to let anyone know your first name is Hamish until you wed. To us, you will always be Benedict."

Molly giggled at that. "Benedict and Louise, the names sound good together, don't they?"

Mrs. Hudson came over then and deposited little Louise into her father's arms so he could hold her for the first time, then she informed Sherlock, "It is time we get your wife comfortable and into a fresh nightgown. After that, I am sure the babies will be hungry for their first feeding."

Sherlock dutifully sat in an armchair with Louise, and the elderly woman brought over his son as well, so that one baby lay nestled in either arm, as Sherlock waited for Molly to be made comfortable. He gazed in adoration at the small faces of those tiny babies who had been born of love, and marvelled anew at the double blessing he and Molly had unexpectedly received.

"Congratulations, my friend," John said to Sherlock, as he prepared to take his leave, while Mrs. Hudson was attending to Molly. He raised a hand to briefly touch both infants gently, before clearing his throat. "I also have news for you."

Sherlock grinned up at him. "I think I can deduce what it is. Your wife is with child as well, is she not?"

John frowned a little. "How did you deduce that?"

Sherlock smirked. "When we saw you both last week, she mentioned that she had been feeling rather ill for several days, and I recalled that Molly exhibited those same symptoms soon after we knew she was with child." Then Sherlock said sincerely to his friend, "I must thank you for all you have done for us, and for your assistance in helping Molly to give birth. You are indeed a good friend."

John's lips twitched upward. "It was my pleasure, Sherlock. Besides, it was good practice for when I shall help Mary in a few months time with her own birthing process." He rubbed his eyes wearily. "Well, it has been a long night, and I must be getting back to my own wife. Take care of your wife and babies, and I will see you soon." He rested a hand briefly on Sherlock's shoulder and said, "You are going to be a fine father, my friend." Then he took his leave.

Once Molly was settled properly in the bed, after Mrs' Hudson's tender ministrations, Sherlock rose from the armchair and carefully walked with the twins to the bed. Molly took first one, then the other and put them each to a breast, where they presently began to suckle.

Sherlock sat beside Molly, supporting his son with one hand while sliding an arm around his wife.

Mrs. Hudson gave the new parents an indulgent smile, then leaned over to kiss the babies and their parents fondly before also taking her leave so the little family could be alone.

It was the start of a new life for the four of them. Molly looked up at Sherlock adoringly, even as their babies continued to feed from her, and Sherlock bent his head to kiss her lips again. "I love you, my darling," he murmured, after their lips parted.

"I love you too, Sherlock," she responded, "always."

…/…/…/…/…/…/…/

Back in the real world

Sherlock opened his eyes and smiled, recalling the words of his dream Molly. "Always," he murmured.

He caressed his wife's belly, feeling the slight tautness that indicated their own baby was growing within her, although there was no outward sign of it, and she stirred, turning to face him, then opening her eyes fully to gaze at him.

"Did you finish your dream?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Indeed I did," he responded with a grin. "Do you want me to tell you about it?"

Molly raised a hand to tousle the curls on his forehead. "Of course."

So Sherlock began to relate the tale, beginning from where he had left off earlier.

Author's note: Of course I am all about showing a happy epilogue to these stories. I hope in particular you got a little laugh out of the whole Benedict and Louise thing. I just had to do it, to give a nod to the wonderful actors who portray our beloved Sherlock and Molly. And it was fun to have that bit of teasing between Sherlock and John as well, with the name Hamish. I thought Sherlock deserved to be awarded a title as well. I slipped in a couple canon sentences from the series too - did you catch them?

Are you happy with the way I concluded things here? I tried to not leave any loose ends, and I just had to bump off that nasty sailor as well ha ha.

Are you looking forward to the final chapter? Will you be sorry to see this one end?

Don't forget to leave a "tip" if you liked this. *stares at review box below*