Another chapter. I don't own anything.
The look on the petite pathologist's face was one of joy, excitement and a little bit of guilt.
"What's got you all happy?"
She was about to answer but she was cut off with cold, calculating words.
"Yes, what indeed."
She looked at the speaker. "Huh?"
"Oh Molly, don't play dumb." He began to pace. "Who were you speaking to?"
"Don't."
"Who, Molly?"
"No one important. It was my brother."
"You're lying."
"Sherlock, stop."
"Tell me."
Molly noticed that he was using the same tone of voice he used on potential suspects. "I don't want to say?"
"Just relax Sher-"
"Stay out of this, John," he snapped.
"Being underhanded does not suit you, Dr. Hooper. IF you are going to have an affair."
"Wait. You think I am cheating on you?"
He scoffed "What else can it be?" The look on her face told him everything he needed to know. She was hurt and he was wrong. God was he wrong.
"I was talking to Greg."
Sherlock's face was blank.
"Lestrade," John offered.
The younger Holmes looked at his friend. "His name's Greg?"
A nod was returned.
"I thought it was Garret."
"Greg, Mrs. Hudson and I are planning a surprise party for John, Mary and baby." She looked at Mary who looked heartbroken for her. Her tears were falling, and then her eyes fell back on her accuser. "I'm not ch-cheating. I would never cheat on you. Why would you think that?"
He took one step towards her. He wished she'd slap her, it'd hurt less.
"Don't come near me, Sherlock. I'm sorry," she said the Watsons. "I just need some time." Without waiting for a response she rushed out of the room.
"You absolute git."
"Yes, thank you John."
"She adores you and you go and accuse her of cheating. Why would you do that?"
"I thought she was." He couldn't even say it now. "Clearly I was wrong." He turned to face his friends. "I will never be the man she deserves."
"Oh hun. She doesn't care about that. She wants you, she loves you."
He spun around the room trying to decide his next step. "Should I go after her?"
"Yes!" they both answered.
Rushing out the door he flung it open and stepped into the corridor. He looked left and right – she worked in this hospital and knew it better than anyone.
"Where would she go? Somewhere she'd feel safe, somewhere quiet." He groaned at his owe stupidity and ran to the lifts. Skidding to a stop her pushed the call button repeatedly until the lift arrived. The doors slid open at his destination and he stepped out. Instead of heading straight to the morgue as he usually would he made his way to the offices. He smiled proudly at the plaque on her door which read in gold writing
Dr. M Hooper.
Silently, he opened the door. The sight that welcomed him was one he never wanted to see again – Molly was sitting on the floor cradling her head in her hands and her body was shaking.
"Molly?"
Her body visibly stiffened but she didn't look up. A minute passed with no response so Sherlock repeated her name and stepped closer. This time a reply came in the form of a hiccup and sniff. Taking a few final steps he sat down beside her. Tentatively he took her hand.
"Please, Molly."
Sniffing she looked up at him. His heart lurched as he took in her tears, red eyes and puffy face.
"Molly I. I'm sorry. I did this to you, I made you cry,"
She didn't disagree.
"I'm not cheating on you."
"I know." He placed her hand to his chest. "I know. I always miss something. I misread Mary completely."
She smiled briefly through her tears. "You have to know that I would never."
"I do. I know you wouldn't cheat. This is like the Christmas party all over again."
"You seem to misread me often."
"So it would seem."
A silence fall over the room. Without speaking a word Molly moved closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Gently Sherlock pulled her into his lap. As soon as his arms were around her she began to sob.
"I'm sorry, Molly." God he hated himself right now. Pulling her closer he kissed her head over and over.
Seventeen minutes later (by Sherlock's calculations) the sobbing had subsided and morphed into the occasional sniff. "I ruined your shirt," she mumbled into his chest.
"Nothing Mrs. Hudson can't fix."
She laughed loudly. Despite how much Mrs Hudson claimed to not be Sherlock's house keeper she sure liked looking after him.
"How about you clean yourself up then we'll head back to the Watson's?"
Nodding, she untangled herself from him and made her way to the bathroom. Hearing the door click closed he stood and perused her office. Large amount of completed paper work. A photo of her and Mary smiling at the camera, another of John, Mary, Molly and me from the wedding. A jar of Jelly beans and a map on London on the wall. The door opened and he turned. "Feeling better?"
She stepped closer. "Much." Moving up on tip toes she kissed him. "Thank you."
He frowned. "What for?"
She ran her hands down his arm and linked their fingers. "For coming after me, although as my boyfriend you kind of have to."
"No, I don't." He looked straight into her eyes. "You know that I don't follow social conventions."
She snorted.
"I followed you because I wanted to. Yes, I checked with John and Mary to make sure I should but..."
He didn't finish the sentence. It's kind difficult to when a pair of lips are kissing yours.
Molly pulled away but didn't go far. "Sometimes you say the meanest things Sherlock Holmes, but sometimes, like now, you say the sweetest ones."
He smiled at her. "Don't tell anyone."
"Oh, I'm telling everyone."
Sherlock groaned, "there goes my reputation."
Laughing once more she headed for the door. With their fingers intertwined they made their way back upstairs. As they got close to 371 they heard screaming. Letting go of his hand Molly rushed into the room.
Pain ripped through her body. It pushed, it pulled, it cramped and tore. It was without a shadow of a doubt pain Mary had never experienced and she had endured pain. Her grip on her husband's hand tightened, her eyes closed and face scrunched up. She felt a small, soft hand take her free one. Taking a deep breath she let out a low guttural scream before falling back on the pillow. "Not fun," she panted.
The pattern continued until Mary finally lamented that she couldn't do this.
"Come on, Mary. You managed to fool me for so long, you can do this."
She couldn't help but smile at that.
The epidural had been administered and it was time to deliver baby Watson. Sherlock was outside the room while John and Molly stayed with Mary. Every so often Molly or John would pop their heads out and tell Sherlock what to relay to people via text. He didn't really mind being out of the room. He knew he was more use here than standing awkwardly in the corner of the suite. After 3 coffees, 2 trips to his mind palace and 6 games of chess on his phone the medical staff left the room followed by an exhausted looking Molly.
She held out her hand for him. "Do you want to come meet her?"
Nodding, he took her hand and followed her in. Inside, they saw Mary holding a wriggling bundle of pink blankets while John held Mary close to him with his free hand on the wriggling bundle.
"Congratulations," Sherlock smiled from the foot of the bed.
"Want to hold her?" Mary asked.
Although he was a little unsure he said yes. Stepping closer he listened to the new mum's instructions before holding the little girl. He looked down at baby Watson who looked back at him. Although he knew she couldn't see him properly he swore she saw straight into his soul.
"She's beautiful," he whispered.
Molly smiled at Mary.
"What's her name?" he asked, not taking his eyes off her.
"Lydia Molly Scot Watson."
Molly and Sherlock's heads snapped up as they heard John's words.
"Really?" Molly's voice cracked a little.
John nodded and soon found himself with an arm full of pathologist. Sherlock stood blinking at his best friend.
"Sherlock?"
"I-I er. That's. You're sure?"
The new parents looked at each other and nodded.
"I still think that Sherlock is a girl's name."
Molly and Sherlock stayed to hold Lydia twice more each before leaving to let to Watsons get to know each other.
No words were spoken on the cab ride back to Baker Street. Silently they climbed the stairs and entered the flat. Without speaking a word Sherlock spun to face her, pulled her into his arms and placed their lips together. Molly wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
"What was that for?" She wondered once the kiss the ended. "Not that I'm complaining."
"You were extraordinary today."
"Thanks," she blushed.
"Bedtime?"
She nodded and let herself be led to the bedroom for some much needed sleep.
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