A/N: I'm back! Sorry for the huuuge gap between updates, school, writer's block, and a whole variety of other reasons got in the way. Hope you enjoy this chapter, as always, reviews are appreciated :D (At the start of this chapter, Emma is two and Molly is 3/4 months pregnant)


A couple of hours later, a crowd was gathering at 221B. Mycroft and Anthea had arrived first, Mycroft looking rather bewildered at the idea that he was about to be told something he didn't already know, Anthea looking concerned that they were being gathered so that some bad news could be broken to them. Mary and John had appeared soon after with now two-year old Emma, and Mrs Hudson, having heard the others arrive.

Next to arrive were Mr and Mrs Holmes, Violet rushing straight to Sherlock to check that he was ok, having been left worried after being invited for tea, a rare occurrence. Once she was satisfied that her son was safe, she took her place next to Siger on the sofa. The last to arrive was Lestrade, fashionably late. "Sorry everyone, there was a murder over at Leicester Square, but I handed the case over to Dimmock, so here I am," he apologised. At the mention of a murder, Sherlock's face lit up, but an elbow to the ribs from Molly stopped him from going any further.

After drinks had been served (non-alcoholic), the guests fell silent, anticipating the news that Sherlock and Molly had to share. Sherlock spoke first. "As you all know, I dislike social gatherings, but on this occasion, I felt compelled to bring you all here to tell you our news. Actually, that was a lie, Molly made me invite you all, I would have sent you all a text."

At this point, Molly interrupted. "What Sherlock is trying to say -" at this he received a pointed look. "-is that we have some exciting news to tell you all. We're expecting a baby!"

"Grandchildren!" Violet cried ecstatically, getting up and hugging first her son and then her daughter-in-law. "Yes mother, this year, your Christmas present will be your first grandchild - unless Mycroft and Anthea have beat us?" Sherlock sighed, raising an eyebrow in his brother's direction.

"No, brother mine, we have not. I cannot fathom how you managed to keep this from me though?" Mycroft replied, looking slightly miffed.

Meanwhile, Mrs Hudson embraced Molly, whilst reminding her, "I'm your landlady dear, not a babysitter." Later though, she would be heard excitedly discussing knitting patterns for baby clothes with Violet, the actual grandmother and the adopted one thrilled at the prospect of a new baby.

Lestrade could be seen shaking his head in disbelief, and muttering to John, "Christ, Sherlock with a baby? What could possibly go wrong?" although he was clearly chuffed to bits for one of his best mates, and Molly of course. Siger gave Molly a kiss on the cheek, and clapped Sherlock on the back, congratulating the pair with a smile on his face.

The rest of the party went well, with even Sherlock behaving for once, although as soon as his parents had left, he, John and Lestrade rushed off to the murder at Leicester Square, with Molly and Mary's permission of course.

xxx

Molly's pregnancy proceeded well, her bump blossoming until the tiny pathologist seemed to be nothing but it, and Sherlock keeping his word to avoid the most dangerous cases. At seven and a half months, Molly was still working at the morgue, determined to keep working and avoid the boredom of being stuck at home.

So it was that on a regular Tuesday morning, Molly was bustling around the lab, whilst Sherlock examined a body, John smiling at the way Sherlock couldn't focus as his attention was drawn to his wife, who it must be said seemed to be glowing.

Suddenly, gunshots rang out from the floor above, and screaming could be heard. Immediately, Sherlock went into action. "Molly, go and hide in the locker room, don't make a sound. John, you stay with her, while I help the police. You do have your gun on you?"

"'Course," John replied, putting a protective arm around a shaking Molly and guiding her towards the locker room. With that, Sherlock sprinted towards the stairs, dialling 999 as he went.

John was so focused on finding the most secure place to hide, didn't notice the pallor of Molly's face as it turned white, nor the pool of liquid that she was now standing in. It was only the pained sound that escaped her that drew his attention. "Molly, what's wrong?" he exclaimed, then noticed the floor. "Oh."

"My water's broke! I'm not even eight months!" she cried hysterically, eyes wide as she realised what was happening. Another burst of pain wracked her body and she howled, gripping John's hand and bending over.

Helping her to a dry patch of floor, John laid his coat down and helped her sit. "I'll phone Sherlock, and tell him what's happening." From above them, police sirens could be heard but no more gunshots. "It sounds like everything is under control, so just breath, and I'll get help," John placated her, rubbing her shoulders.

Just then, footsteps could be heard on the stairs, and Sherlock appeared, calmly stating, "Some idiot tried to rob the place, somehow thought it was a bank, the police have got him, no one is hurt, nothing to worry -" breaking off as he took in the situation before him.

"John, what's wrong, she can't be in labour, she's only seven and a half months," he spoke frantically, rushing to his wife's side.

"It seems the shock of what happened has caused premature labour. We need to get her upstairs, as soon as possible, it seems like things are progressing fast," John rattled off, switching into his doctor mode.

The pair stood Molly up and helped her out of her lab coat, Sherlock almost as white as his wife. Soon, they were in front of the reception desk, the area swamped with police officers. Lestrade spotted them and rushed over looking concerned. "What's happening?

John replied, recognising that the couple were in too much of a state of shock to answer. "The gunshots and screaming caused Molly to go into premature labour, we need to get her to the maternity ward."

Meanwhile, one of the receptionists had brought over a wheelchair and was helping Molly into it, reassuring her that everything would be ok. A quick phone call was made, and Molly was whisked away towards the maternity ward, Sherlock striding alongside, coat billowing out behind him, leaving a bewildered John and Lestrade behind.

"I suppose we should go get a coffee, even if it's a quick labour, it could still take a few hours," John said after a moment. "Trust Sherlock Holmes' baby to arrive in such dramatic fashion!"


A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry about the cliffhanger ;) There should be an update soon :D xx