Ducks in a Row
One year old
On a Thursday in April where the sun shines faintly and a cool breeze blows, Annabelle turns a year old.
The early part of the morning is spent with hugs and kisses, cheering and pancakes for breakfast before Molly begins rushing around to ensure everything is in order before they leave for the park. Sherlock, who just rolls his eyes and hides a grin, sits on the couch and reads books to Annabelle before Molly marches over and hands him a tiny outfit and tells him he's in charge of getting her ready.
From there things are a little hectic; Annabelle takes her newfound skill (walking) and tries her hardest on still wobbly legs to make his job nearly impossible. Once he catches her and gets her into the tiny pink sweater and blue jeans he plops her down on his lap, brushes her hair and has an internal debate on how exactly the barrettes Molly had given him are supposed to go in her hair.
It takes some adjusting and more than a few tries before he steps back to admire his work, his triumphant smile falling when he sees that there's a reason he's not a hairdresser. He frowns and removes them, wonders if he can get away with leaving them out and Molly not noticing. She was so busy that the idea seems pretty plausible but Sherlock doesn't want to take the chance and he tries once more to get the tiny butterfly shaped clips secure in her dark, curly locks.
Finally, he succeeds just as Molly has finished gathering everything and is ready to leave. He helps pack everything into the car, buckles Annabelle into her car seat and grabs Molly around the waist, kissing her as she reaches for the door handle. She giggles and catches his lips with her own. She pulls away first, lips curled into one of the widest smiles he's ever seen.
"Are you ready?" she bounces eagerly on the balls of her feet, her wavy hair swinging with the movement.
"I've been ready since we got up," he smirks, leaning against the car and taking in the woman in front of him. She's wearing fitted blue jeans and a dark grey sweater that fits her perfectly, so much different than the clothes she used to wear that hid her curves. He can't help but stare.
And of course Molly takes notice, feels her cheeks flame and wonders how he can still do that to her even after all this time. She swats his arm when she finds him still looking but he pulls her into his arms and kisses her cheek.
"You're beautiful," he mutters into her hair. She holds on for a moment and lets his warmth sink in. even though she has all the time in the world she can't help but feel like he'll slip away, so she takes every opportunity she gets.
"Alright," she announces, pulling away, "we have to get going or everyone will beat us there." She slips into the passenger's seat, waits for him to get in prays everything goes smoothly as Sherlock pulls onto the road.
…
Thankfully they get to the park in time for molly to set things up, leaving Sherlock and Annabelle completely bored as they sit on the bench and watch. Every now and then Molly catches a glimpse of them and feels her breath hitch when she realizes how much her daughter has grown to look like Sherlock.
It hadn't hit her until she woke up this morning that her daughter had reached yet another milestone and she spent the first twenty minutes curled up with Sherlock asking where the time had gone. He of course had no answer for her; she knows he thinks the same thing.
She tries to busy herself with setting up food, blankets and chairs lining a large patch of grass that rested under the sunlight. It was more or less a picnic but she feels it's perfect, not too big but not too small of a celebration. Now all they had to do was wait.
Much to Molly's surprise it's Greg who shows up first, smiling and dressed in jeans and a sweater, so much different than she's seen him before. He looks relaxed and genuinely happy, something that makes Molly smile. He was a good man and he deserved better than he had gotten.
As he walks the last few yards to them Sherlock puts Annabelle down and the two watch her teeter towards Greg who scoops her up, earning him a serenade of giggles in response. He shakes hands with Sherlock and the two dive into conversation about work, leaving Molly to shake her head and pick Annabelle up when she comes to her with her arms held out.
She rests her on her hip and offers her a cup from her diaper bag, watching her sip happily on it for a few moments until she sees something and the cup is dropped on the ground. Molly looks up to see what the fuss is about and laughs.
John and Mary are walking towards them with Mrs. Hudson, and Annabelle is desperate to be put back down to get to them. Molly rolls her eyes and sets her on the ground and she meets John halfway before the doctor sweeps her up much like Greg did. Only this time he has Mrs. Hudson to compete with and the older woman successfully gets the little girl from John, handing him a food dish in exchange.
Happy as a clam and relishing all the attention Molly rolls her eyes good naturedly and laughs. "And to think Sherlock says she's spoiled."
Mrs. Hudson smiles and sits down in a chair beside Molly, Annabelle content in her lap as they talk. Mary joins them soon after and everyone seems content, talking and laughing. Mycroft eventually finds himself showing up, taking a seat beside John and nodding politely at Greg, listening to the conversation.
When everyone has shown up they eat, Sherlock feeding Annabelle bites off his fork every now and then while she sits in his lap. By now she's made sure to visit everyone, traveling from lap to lap until she goes back to her father.
After everyone is full Sherlock decides to take a walk across the park to the pond, holding Annabelle's hand and letting her walk beside him. Molly looks around and sees Mrs. Hudson and Mary talking about redecorating the flat while Mycroft and Greg seem to be in an animated conversation over something she can't hear.
She's cleaning up the plates and cups when John walks up, grabbing another trash bag and throwing things inside. Molly smiles at him gratefully.
"This was really nice," he tells her, "I know Sherlock appreciates it being so low key." They both chuckle and shake their heads at him.
Out of pure instinct molly looks up to check on the two, finds them a good distance away playing with a rubber ball from Greg. Sherlock gently rolls it across the grass and Annabelle snatches it up, giggling loudly and trying her hardest to throw it back to him. She's finally able to tear her eyes away and looks back at John.
"You know it means so much that you all came." She lets the sincerity drip into her voice and John just waves her off.
"Of course we'd be here. You all mean the world to all of us; we wouldn't miss this for anything." He pulls Molly into a hug to prove his point. Sometimes he isn't sure if she's really aware how much all three of them mean to him. Sherlock was as good as a brother to him, and to know Molly is there to keep his feet grounded makes it easier for him to sleep at night.
They share an understanding smile before getting back to work.
The cleanup is almost done and the party is drawing to a close as evening falls. Molly's surprised to find they've been gone the majority of the day, too busy enjoying each other's company and singing a horribly off key version (courtesy of Sherlock) of Happy Birthday.
Mycroft leaves first, saying a goodbye to everyone before he disappears, slipping into a black car to no one's surprise. Greg follows soon after and promises Molly he'll come around for dinner sometime. Soon it's just Sherlock and Molly left, Annabelle sleeping in his arms while they walk back to the car, fingers intertwined.
…
After the sky grows dark and the temperature drops Sherlock and Molly make it into their flat.
He cradles Annabelle like a newborn as he carries her to her room, molly trailing behind him and flipping on the light when they walk in. quickly she's changed into pajamas and tucked into her crib, kissed by both of them.
For a second they both just watch the tiny rise and fall of her chest, marveling at the tiny human being they're able to call their own. Molly leans her head on Sherlock's shoulder before she takes his hand in hers and leads him from the room.
Once she shuts the door she pulls him into a kiss, tangling her fingers in his hair. He reciprocates, his hands finding her hips and leading her to the bedroom. He's desperate to keep a hold of her as they stumble around, finding the bed and collapsing in a heap. Things seem to go in slow motion after that, clothing shed on the floor, ghostly touches and gasping breaths filling the time that seems to go by much too fast.
By the end they're curled around each other and Molly can hear the beat of his heart as her head rests on his chest. Every now and then she feels him press his lips to her hair or his fingers tracing patterns on her back. Neither of them seem to be capable of sleep, too busy staring at the ceiling and savoring the warmth that comes from their bodies.
The more she lies awake though the more Molly begins to think and reminisce about the last year. It would be foolish to say it wasn't life changing, half of the proof lying right beside her. Never in a million years did she think she would be able to call Sherlock hers.
Years of pining and being too good of a friend had left her hopeless until Moriarty had come into their lives. After that she didn't think she'd ever be able to catch her breath. Life was filled with a thousand questions that couldn't be answered and even more worries.
And when Sherlock had entrusted her with his life she saw a side of him no one else ever would have. He had trusted her when he was the most vulnerable and she spent every minute wondering why. And then they had been blinded by feelings and exhaustion, relief and pure happiness that he had made it out alive.
But that was then things had begun to turn against her and she found herself alone, pushed away by the one person she wanted and needed the most. Of course she didn't blame him entirely. She seemed to blame everyone and everything then, wondering what had destroyed him so much to make him think he wasn't deserving of love. When she compares Sherlock now to Sherlock back then she almost doesn't recognize who he is. He's made a full transformation, from a bitter, grieving man to a loving father and dedicated boyfriend.
The realization hits her harder than she expected, she's not even aware she's crying until Sherlock pulls her closer, looking scared and worried. Quickly Molly wipes the tears away and manages a watery smile.
"I'm alright," she assures him. "I was just thinking." Sherlock seems slightly relieved but he still watches her with a wondering look.
"What were you thinking about?"
Molly sighs and leans back against him. "You. Us. This past year and even before that. We've changed so much it's hard to believe things had ever been the way they were." She kisses his jaw, lips trailing up to his.
"I love you." Sherlock smiles into her kiss, feels her melt beneath his touch and whispers gently into her ear.
"I love you too."
The End
Wow. It's finally finished. I'm actually really sad about that!
This was by far the best writing experience ever and I want to thank every last person who has reviewed, favorited and followed this story. You guys made this whole thing amazing and I can't thank you enough.
Also to my amazing, lovely beta There's A Time Lord In Lima, thank you so much for sticking with me through this and putting up with me all the time. I owe you big time for this one!
And once again to my amazing readers. Thank you so very much and I'm glad you all liked this story as much as I did!