This was based off the one phrase prompt "it's about time" from elliedilly and was posted on tumblr a couple weeks ago. ;)

Molly paced and paced through the flat. She was never usually this fidgety and restless, though she supposed this was a special case. She finally grabbed her mobile and fired off another text to Sherlock.

YOU SAID YOU WERE ON YOUR WAY! WHAT'S GOING ON? -MH

There was no answer for five minutes, and that felt like an eternity. Finally her phone chimed.

I'M TRYING! GETTING A CAB IN THIS PART OF THE CITY IS MADNESS! I'LL BE THERE AS SOON AS I CAN. -SH

I PROMISED I'D WAIT AND I WILL, BUT IT'S KILLING ME SHERLOCK! -MH

I'LL TRY TO SPEED THINGS UP A BIT... -SH

Molly sighed in frustration and threw herself into the leather chair by the fire. This was the just about the most impatient she'd ever been. She tried reading, but was too distracted. She tried listening to music, but could find anything that really appealed to her at the moment. She even got up and started cleaning out of desperation.

Molly was just brushing some dust off of her and Sherlock's wedding picture when she heard his footsteps rushing up the stairs. She carefully placed the frame back on the wall, next to her other favorite framed picture, just as Sherlock came bounding through the door, very out of breath.

"It's about time!" she exclaimed. "It's been an hour!"

"I'm sorry!" he gasped. "It would have been longer if I hadn't summoned the help of the British government. One of Mycroft's security vehicles that was close by picked me up." Sherlock glanced around. "All right, so where is it?!"

"I'll go get it!" Molly went running through the kitchen and down the hall.

Sherlock took a seat in his chair, but jumped up again the second she reappeared with a box in hand.

"I put it back in the box," she explained. "I was afraid I'd see if I didn't put it away. And I really did want to wait for you. Go on...you open it." She handed him the box.

He hesitantly took it from her, but spoke again before reaching in. "Are you sure you're ready? You want me to do it now?"

"Yes!" Molly practically screamed in answer, though she was also laughing a little. "Come on, I've been waiting an hour and a half already!"

Sherlock nodded and reached in the box, keeping his eyes on his wife as he did. He pulled out the plastic stick and held it in his palm between them. Slowly, the two of them lowered their gaze to look down. But it was almost immediate that their eyes met again, both of their jaws hanging open and Molly's eyes beginning to fill with tears.

"I knew it," Sherlock whispered as Molly clasped a hand over her mouth hiccupping out little sobs and giggles that were well blended together.

Molly grabbed the pregnancy test from his hand and stared at it for a second, in disbelief at the unmistakable digital PREGNANT reading that was on the small display. She leaned forward and threw her arms around Sherlock, burying her face in his warm neck and kissing every inch of skin she could reach, which also drenched him in her happy tears.

Sherlock placed his hand on her cheek, gently easing her face back to kiss her, eager to express his happiness and relief, excitement and commitment, and most of all his love. They clung to each other as Sherlock kisses went from rapid and exuberant, to slow and passionate. Molly hooked her fingers in his scarf and pulled on the loop, loosening it and sliding it off his neck to throw it behind her.

Sherlock pulled away from the kiss for a moment and chuckled low. "I enjoy the fact that you've gotten in quite the habit of tossing my scarf out of the way when I get home we kiss. Seems you've learned," he said teasingly and nipped at her lips again.

"I learned from the best, Mr. Drama Queen," she whispered back with a cheeky grin. "Though you'd better learn to tone it down. You're going to be a dad, and I think we'll have plenty of drama from the new little Holmes!"

Sherlock's picture perfect lips slowly spread in a grin again. "I'm going to be a dad," he whispered.

Molly stroked his face and enjoyed the look in his eyes. "Who would have thought hm? Last year...when all that was going on." She glanced over to the wall, next to where their wedding picture hung, and Sherlock's gaze followed.

"Like pieces in a puzzle," Sherlock murmured. "It all came together eventually." He sighed as they both enjoyed a moment of nostalgia, all of it so perfectly captured in that framed bunch of "Sherlolly" moments, gifted to them by the Watsons. But then unexpectedly, Sherlock bent down, slipping his arms behind Molly's knees and back to (especially carefully) lift her up bridal style.

"What in the world?!" Molly asked through laughter as she clung to Sherlock's neck while he began walking them down the hall.

"We have limited time before word gets out and we are both flooded with the excitement of family and friends. Till then, we have some celebrating to do...privately." He leaned down to kiss her again as they reached the bedroom. "Oh and by the way, I don't care how this whole thing got started, there's one thing that I absolutely refuse to do. I don't care how much anyone begs."

"What's that?" Molly asked as he set her down and she began pulling at his coat and suit jacket, discarding them in much the same way as the scarf.

Sherlock recalled the infamous night in the pub as he lovingly grasped Molly's face and prepared to continue kissing the woman who was now not only his wife, but the mother of his child...

"I refuse to name our firstborn after Anderson."