Disclaimer – I do not own Sherlock, I am merely borrowing the characters.

AN/ I apologise for all spelling and grammar mistakes. Thank you's are at the bottom. Enjoy :)

It was a surprisingly quite Thursday evening when Molly found out that Mary and John were engaged. Molly had been binge watching some reality nonsense when Mary had texted her the news. As a grin spread across her face she couldn't stop an instinctive squeal of joy escaping and sent a quick congratulations and plans to meet the following day.

She returned to her disappointingly unengaging TV and yawned. Recently, she had found less and less time to indulge herself in an absurd amount of bad TV. Between her long shifts at work and visiting Baker Street almost every day, she barely had time to shower let alone watch two bimbos have a screaming match.

She thought an evening like this was long overdue and was more than happy when Sherlock had texted her explaining that he wouldn't be able to meet her due a top-secret important case he was working on.

All day she had romanticised the idea of being all by herself, not having to play catch up in long and complicated stories about old cases, and not having to eat all the biscuits she was presented with, and just the idea of wearing her slippers for the whole evening spent shivers down her spine. Whilst all of those things were lovely, just as lovely as she thought they would be she couldn't quite shake a feeling she had at the base of her throat.

It wasn't exactly painful in the typical sense, it was more of a dull ache. There were other odd instances too like she would catch herself gnawing at her bottom lip and sometimes she would find her eyes drifting away from the TV for no apparent reason. Most people would recognise these as signs of loneliness, but having never been accustomed to feeling lonely Molly put it down to a straightforward case of exhaustion.

Her life hadn't exactly been filled with an abundance of people and in order to be lonely you have to know what you're missing. Simply put, Molly couldn't be lonely when lonely is all she had ever known, until recently.

She had missed people in her life and remains to, but the smothering emptiness of her apartment was an entirely new sensation.

It was truly a testament to how much Sherlock had changed her life. Due to unplanned circumstances she found herself drawn into this bizarre, unpredictable mad world and she hadn't quite figured out if this was a good thing or not.

With consulting detectives on the brain she cozied herself up for a nice sleep before her next long shift at Barts.

After a night of vivid dreams featuring a crime fighting horse, Molly decided to face work wearing her favourite beige trouser and patterned jumper combo in hope that it might bring her some courage.

In actuality it proved to be a disastrous decision when Mr. Pembroke's stomach had unexpectedly exploded and landed right on her. With her iron stomach being more susceptible lately she decided that it would be best to get changed in the lab as opposed to waiting until she got home.

After a quick shower she began to get changed into some spare scrubs. Turning to face the mirror she found herself uncontrollably pausing. At home she had one full-length mirror in her bathroom and a faulty light bulb directly above. She of course owned plenty of hand held mirrors which could be contorted to show sections of her body, but here, in the overly illuminated changing rooms under the florescent lights, she could see everything.

She stood simply looking with her head tilted for a few moments before deciding to place her hand within her shirt, over her relatively flat stomach. If she squinted she could make out a slight curve, but there was no great bump yet. According to every book she had read, every site she had visited it was going to happen any day now and she still couldn't help, but feel the growing frustration at the fact it hadn't happened already.

She felt silly, she knew her body was changing, just last week Sherlock had commented on how her breasts were becoming plumper much to the embarrassment of herself and John. And yet the lack of bump was upsetting. The bump, which was supposed to have arrived by now, was going to be her confirmation that all of this was real.

She knew she was pregnant and that there was going to be a child but somehow she couldn't comprehend that another person was coming into existence. She felt motherly instincts she had had all the symptoms of early pregnancy, but she still didn't quite believe what was happening. She was pinning all of her hopes that once there was undeniable physical evidence, evidence that other people could see, that everyone understands she would actually feel like something is happening.

So engrossed in this unexpected and slightly manic thought train Molly didn't notice that she had a visitor.

Sherlock had come to the lab with urgent business for Molly and had swiftly tracked her down in the changing rooms. Just outside the doorway he watched as a clearly distressed Molly was assessing her reflection. Sherlock was unsure why he decided not to interrupt and found himself simply watching in silence.

Molly as a fully classified doctor knew a lot of what was happening in her body, she knew the science, the biology of it all and yet she cannot comprehend that the cluster of cells, the morning sickness, the change in her breasts is all because another human is about to exist. She wonders if the little foetus can comprehend what's happening any better than she can as begins to gently move her hand across her stomach.

So much had happened lately that she was finding it difficult to assess every difference in her life but standing alone, staring intently at her abdomen she found herself reflecting on the life growing inside of her.

Despite knowing that the baby has yet to fully develop an ability to hear, she suddenly felt compelled to talk, to actually address the human inside of her, and in a moment of sweet sincere vulnerability she breathed a very quiet "hello".

It was no great secret that Sherlock had very poor people skills and often failed to know when it is and isn't appropriate to suddenly make yourself known in a room, but at this moment even he knew he was interrupting something intimate. What he believed to be guilt overwhelmed him as he spun out the doorway and walked a few paces away.

If he were of sound mind he may have question that guilt fails to explain the quickening of his heartbeat, the tightening of his muscles and the sudden dampness of his palms. Instead he chose to compose himself, after all he has an important task to complete today.

Deciding that time is of the essence he informed Molly that he had arrived with a brief yet sufficient call. "Molly."

"Oh um, one second." due to the breathless nature of her reply it was obvious that Sherlock had made her jump.

Molly left the changing room freshly changed and cheery, sending a general greeting Sherlock's way.

Once he was satisfied that Molly had definitely not seen him earlier he began to go through his ingenious plan to ensure that Molly would be moving into Baker Street in no time. It involved three critical steps which were intricately designed for optimal persuasion to guarantee Molly's agreement.

Step one involved subtly reminding Molly how poor and inconvenient her current living situation is instantly influencing her opinions on moving in Sherlock's favour.

"The distance between here and your apartment is inconvenient and your landlord is rather unreasonable."

Step one was complete.

Molly looked at Sherlock in mild interest. If it had been anyone else she may have been confused, potentially offended but with Sherlock she had seen a lot worse. She simply noded in agreement with his statement and continue to her work desk.

With the first part of his plan completed to an exceptional level if he may add, Sherlock swiftly moved onto step two.

Step two was to bring up Baker Street in a positive way. This was to ensure that her current apartment would be always associated with negativity but Baker Street would be associated with positive attributes. Classic persuasive techniques.

"221b Baker Street is closer than your apartment. 221b Baker Street also has a very reasonable landlord." Sherlock announced.

Step two was complete.

"That's very true." Molly smiled, she was sure there was a point to Sherlock's bragging it was just currently unclear.

The final step, step three, was to remind her one of the very many benefits of living in Baker Street. This was perhaps the most crucial step to the operation, if chosen wisely, the final reason to live at Baker Street could be the deciding factor, and therefore Sherlock chose the factor that he believed would ensure that Molly believed Baker Street was the best place to live.

"221b Baker Street is where I live."

Step three was complete.

"That you do Sherlock." Molly laughed.

With the priming complete Sherlock decided that it was the perfect time to ask Molly to move in, a mere formality to make sure that there was no confusion.

"You could too."

Panic inexplicably filled Molly as she stopped her work to look a Sherlock properly since this conversation began.

She started chanting to herself that this couldn't mean what she thinks it does as no one would ask someone to move in with them so randomly. The rational side of her brain seemed to be laughing as it argued that the only person who would is Sherlock. Before she could question Sherlock she was interrupted by an unexpected voice from the corner.

Staring at each other in awkward silence was how Mary Morstan (soon to be Watson) found the pair.

"Okay, okay, I know we are meeting later but no one I like has congratulated me today and I kind of need it." Both Sherlock and Molly turned to Mary, one in annoyance and the other in confusion. It was the later who spoke first.

"Mary?"

"Molly?" Mary mocked.

Molly was completely thrown out of a loop over the past few minutes which is why it took her a couple seconds to remember the latest update in Mary's life, when she finally pieced the past few minutes together she was filled with happiness for her friend.

"Congratulations!" Molly began walking over to hug a very smiley Mary.

"Thank y-"

"Yes, yes it's wonderful. John and Mary have opted to stay together until they die." Sherlock interrupted.

"And a hello to you to Sherlock." Mary laughed.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to work?" Sherlock shot Mary a look which can only be described as 'leave'.

"Sherlock!" It was hardly surprising that Sherlock wasn't over thrilled with the engagement but Molly never expected him to be this rude to Mary. Mary on the other hand assumed that this rudeness was not specifically for her and decided that it would be best to leave.

"Its fine, he's right anyway I should be getting back to work." Mary nodded to Sherlock before finally turning back to Molly and mouthing 'later' with a wink to seal the deal.

Mary left the room as abruptly as she came in, leaving Molly in a state of awkward silence she had become worryingly familiar to over the past couple of months.

It was Sherlock who decided to break it this time, with a statement Molly was certainly not expecting to hear.

"I play the violin when I think."

"What?"

"I'm giving you the same warning I gave John. I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days, but you knew that already. John also seems to have a problem with my 'experiments', but given the fact you had guts on you this morning and didn't flinch I can't see that being a problem."

"No." Molly answered with far less anxiety then she was feeling.

"Sorry?" Sherlock was clearly taken back by the rejection.

"No. I'm not moving into Baker Street." It felt cruel to be so abrupt but she feared that if she wasn't so cold about it he may change her mind.

"Why?" She preparing for him to be angry, most likely hurt but judging by his tone Sherlock was just confused.

"I don't have to justify why I don't want to move Sherlock." Molly looked away as she started to get out the correct files for Mr Pembroke from earlier.

"That's because you can't justify it as there isn't any logical reasons for you to say no to this offer." His words were becoming progressively more and more pronounced.

"I don't make all my decisions based on logic Sherlock! What if I just like my apartment?" Even she could hear the desperation in her tone as she remained half in the filing cabinet.

"But you don't like your apartment, it's too expensive, too small and it makes you feel lonely." Molly would be offended that he was rattling off personal information against her if it weren't true.

"Maybe I don't want to live with dead body parts everywhere." It wasn't exactly a lie she reasoned with herself.

"That doesn't seem to be a problem when you visit."

"Maybe I don't like the violin." She was running out of ideas and was clearly not thinking out her argument.

"I don't like cats, consider us even." She could hear the frustration in his tone and decided to end this conversation as quickly as she could.

"I'm not moving in with you Sherlock!" She had officially reached the limit of her patience. She looked at him with his eyes narrowed and lips pursed.

Sherlock relaxed his face before nodded coldly and speeding out the room in a whirlwind of coat.

Molly groaned in frustration. She didn't want to keep going in circles about the same issue but she conceded that she may have been a bit harsh.

She should have realised then when her favourite shirt was ruined that today was going to be a bad day.

Later that evening Molly opened her door to a very jolly Mary who appeared to have brought bridal magazines galore with what Molly hoped to be non-alcoholic beverages.

Before she could even open her mouth to say anything about the wedding, Mary got straight to the point.

"So you said no to living in Baker Street."

"How?" Sometimes Molly was scared that she was suddenly surrounded by psychics.

"What? Sherlock's not the only one who can be clever around here!" Mary exclaimed as she made her way to Molly's living room.

Seeing that Molly clearly wasn't buying her answer she elaborated.

"John texted me."

Molly made her way to the kitchen to grab a couple glasses.

"Apparently a certain detective has been moping and snapping at everyone today like the great big man child he is." Mary yelled whilst taking off her coat.

"I suppose he can be a bit…dramatic." The mental image of Sherlock winding everyone up for some reason made Molly smile.

Once back from the kitchen she opened the non-alcoholic wine and began pouring some for herself and Mary.

"So I have to ask, what made you say no?" Mary was reluctant to talk about the subject but her curiosity was eating at her.

Molly sighed as she placed the bottle on the side of her coffee table. She was hoping that this evening it might just be about Mary and Johns wedding and Sherlock wouldn't

have to be mentioned, but just like every other aspect of her life, he was taking over this part too.

"Do we have to talk about this now? I thought we were going to talk about the wedding!" Molly held up one of the magazines for emphasis.

"We are! I'm just confused about why you said no to Sherlock."

"Fine! It simply didn't feel right. Now, are you thinking of a summer wedding or a winter wedding?"

"What kind of a vague answer is that? I'm only looking for one genuine reason. And I was thinking spring actually."

"Spring sounds nice, then you can put the bridesmaids in yellow. Speaking of how many bridesmaids are you having?"

"Stop trying to changing the subject! And three, you, my old friend Janine and my cousin Sarah."

"Im a bridesmaid?"

"Yeah! You're the only person I know who won't punch Sherlock." Mary laughed.

"I've never been a bridesmaid before I've never even been to a wedding." Molly said as a matter of fact.

"Well then I'm lucky to be your first." The two ladies smiled at each other when Mary cleared her throat.

Usually Molly's innocent tone combined with her youthful face sealed the deal when trying to change the subject but Mary was seeing right through the attempt.

"So, back to this Sherlock business-"

Molly groaned into her glass cursing the fact that it wasn't alcohol.

"Fine." Mary put her hands up in mock surrender.

"It's just… I know you like Baker Street. And you clearly like Sherlock because you basically work together, and you're having a baby together. I just can't figure out why you'd say no to living together. I mean you're surrounded by him anyway."

"But that's the problem! I see him all the time and even when he's not around I think about him 'I wonder if Sherlock's solved that case' or 'I wonder if Sherlock's had anything to eat yet'. I've barely known him for three months and suddenly he's everywhere." Molly knew she sounded frantic but it was as though Mary had reopened a wound and now she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

"Don't get me wrong I'm so grateful that I met him, I'm so grateful because I wouldn't have the baby and you and…Its just he's everywhere. I had no one before him, just some bad friends and a bitter grandmother. And I'm so grateful but he's everywhere and he's everything and I don't know. I just don't know" Molly had to pause as she could barely breathe. After a few gulps air she could feel her herself calm.

"Do you want a drink?" Mary placed her hand on Molly's arm.

Molly shook her head but remained silent whilst her mind was racing a mile a minute.

"Look, I know better than most the madness that comes with 'Mr Sherlock Holmes, the great detective'. I mean there's the obvious danger, the sleepless nights, the fact that he can be a right git sometimes and I know, trust me I know how consuming it can be. But then there's the unbelievable moments, the heart racing, blood pumping, jaw-droppingly beautiful moments, the like that you can only ever find in stories. And at the end of the day isn't everything all a bit …" she gestured around her in an attempt to find the right word "…wonderful."

Deciding that she had helped the situation the most she could Mary decided to get back to the wedding.

"Now that's enough Sherlock talk for today let's get back to business. I was thinking of a summer wedding with lots of yellow…

After a long and restless night molly had come to the realisation that she was a coward.

She had dreamt of her father as she does often, she always hears his voice she's sure, but whenever she wakes she can never quite work out what he was saying. Last night she dreamt of her mother too, a rare occurrence usually brought on by stress. It took their appearance, the ghosts of her past to make her truly realise she was being a coward.

The entire reasoning she had behind saying no to Sherlock was built on if's and but's and the possibilities of a maybe built on her experience with her parents. Her relationship with Sherlock had nothing to do with the relationship between her parents and she rationalised that to link the two explicitly would be stupid and cowardly and incorrect. She was not her mother and Sherlock was not her father.

It took hours of objective reasoning before she concluded that she was a bit brash in her decision and was now waiting for a certain detective so show up to right her answer.

It took four hours of anxiously watching the door before he came swanning in.

"Sherlock! Finally, I-" She was interrupted by an obviously irate Sherlock.

"Molly. Are the bodies ready?" He was clearly in no mood for small talk, or the Sherlock version of small talk. He looked down at Molly with a bored expression as though she was wasting his time by answering his question.

She'd known he'd still be angry but she was hoping he might have switched to sad over the past day. He was a lot more reasonable when he was sad.

"Bodies? Oh the Gunderson case, yes I'm just writing up on the daughter now. But I-"

"Where's the rest of the family? Specifically the father?" Sherlock cut in again.

Molly braced herself as this was proving to be more difficult then she had hoped.

"Over there on the right hand side. Sher-"

Sherlock turned away from her as walked to where Mr Gunderson was resting. Molly lightly growled in annoyance as this was starting to get a bit ridiculous.

"Sherlock?" Molly faced his direction. He purposely ignored her and shifted as far away as he could as he began examining the body. She made her way to him.

If she were a weaker person then she probably would have given up by now, but she was determined and quite used to the childish antics of Sherlock.

"Sherlock!" She now stood directly in front of him looking at his bended figure.

"Molly! Even Anderson would have picked up on the fact that I was choosing not to hear him by now." She had never had the pleasure of meeting the infamous Anderson but she knew that any comparison made to him was meant entirely as an insult.

"Don't play dumb, despite what you may believe it isn't cute." He wanted to hurt her, he knew that if he hurt her enough she would leave him alone. Despite how much that stung, Molly stayed, albeit slightly wounded.

Sherlock walked to the left hand side of the body.

"Well if you would just-" Her jaw clenched as with every step she took he would counter.

She moved to the left as he moved to her right. She kept steady movements hoping to build a false pretence, before swiftly running in the opposite direction.

"Sher-" They suddenly collided. As Sherlock was looking away from the pathologist he failed to see her running towards him and failed to stop the collision.

Sherlock managed to quickly grab her arms before she fell to the floor. He briefly glanced over her to make sure there were no life threatening cuts before looking closely at her face.

"Are you ok?" He sounded surprisingly panicked as he moved his hands to her face and pushed a bit of hair that had come loose behind her ear.

Molly was momentarily stunned by the intimate gesture and it took a couple of seconds for her to realise that he had asked a question. She was of course fine, they had only lightly bumped into each other, it was wasn't even really an incident let alone something that could actually cause any damage.

She should have really assured him that she was fine but she argued that he probably knew that already and decided to make the most of this attention.

"I sometimes sleep walk."

He was surprised well not exactly surprised, this was hardly new information, but he was surprised that she was randomly blurting it out.

"I have on occasion been known to forget to put milk back in the fridge. And I often leave lights on even when I'm not in. But you probably knew all of that so this was an entirely pointless exercise." She was suddenly aware of how close they were to each other and decided to take a step back.

"Buy me some good earplugs, make sure you keep experiments out of the kitchen and I'll try to keep Toby out of your way."

Sherlock's mouth slight curved in what could be considered a smile.

"So Mr Holmes, do we have a deal?" She jokingly held out her hand.

"That we do Ms Hooper." Sherlock raised her hand before gently kissing. Outwardly Molly rolled her eyes but inwardly she practically swooned.

"Sherlock!" a breathless Lestrade ran into the room both parties turned to him.

"Mr Freyson grew bananas!" at least that what Molly thought she heard in between his pants of breath.

Sherlock's smile returned as he exclaimed a quick "potassium" before running out the room followed by a clearly exhausted Lestrade.

Shaking her head in humour she realised that panicked entrances and unexplained exits were most likely going to double once 221b Baker Street was her home. The humour quickly faded when she started listing off the absurd amount of jobs she would have to do in order for 221b to actually become her home, there was the packing and the new contracts and the over expensive delivery vans. Just as she had thought it by sheer coincidence or his genius, she was alerted to a new text from Sherlock.

I look forward to having another corpse enthusiast in the vicinity. SH

Molly smiled and guessed that was Sherlock talk for 'I'm excited to live with you'.

Just as Molly was about to return to work her phone went off again.

'Don't pick 'Herford and sons' moving van. Suspicious amount of dead clients. SH'

Suddenly curious of the story behind the warning Molly made a mental note to avoid 'Herford and sons' and to ask Sherlock why when she next saw him.

Molly found herself thinking back to what Mary had said and found that she couldn't agree more. Sherlock was this great big storm of crazy but for every crazy and dangerous moment he was equally as wonderful.

AN/ I hope you enjoyed that chapter, it was made with love! Let me know if you have any questions, criticisms or requests for this story and all reviews are loved and cherished!

On to my favourite part, I would like to give a huge thank you to all the lovely and wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter who are :

emedealer / Silencebeyondthestars / MizJoely / Bucky5 / zeFluffleTruffle / lizaoverthesky / Renaissancebooklover108 / AJP910 / Sherlocked-in-Tejas / coolaquariun / and Icebabe59 :D

You have brightened up the past few months more then you probably realise :)

Chapter 7 is currently in the works so fingers crossed that'll be up here soon.