~ I know it took forever… Sorry ! Enjoy ! ~

Chapter 17

Molly closed her diary, and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

She couldn't stay here all night, she had to go back downstairs and face the situation.

But the knot in her stomach was growing every minute. There had been harsh words pronounced, what if the damage was irreparable?

She went down the stairs and found the living room plunged in the dark. She turned on the lights but Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. Her attention was suddenly caught by noises coming from the kitchen. She went there and found it in a complete mess. Toby and two of the kittens had ripped off a pack of cat food and spilled all its content on the floor. Molly kneeled down to clean and took little Oscar in her arms.

"I'm sorry nobody fed you my poor dear", she whispered. "You caused a lot of mess today you know. I think he's angry at us but it's just because he is so sad. How could someone be angry at you? You are so adorable".

She placed some food and milk for all the cats to share, and headed to the bedroom.

The door was ajar, and she could see Sherlock's silhouette lying in the bed. It made her feel both relieved and anxious. She tiptoed into the room, grabbed her pyjamas and quickly made her way to the bathroom. Then, still not the turning the lights on, she got into her side of the bed.

Staring at the wall, she knew she wouldn't be able to find rest anytime soon. And she could tell by Sherlock's breathing pattern that he was not sleeping either. But none of them seemed ready to break the ice. After a moment that seemed like an eternity, it was finally him who broke the heavy silence:

"The human brain is really a fascinating organ", he stated, leaving Molly puzzled. "Otherwise how do you explain that in my dreams I still can walk?"

His words made her heart sink.

"It's called… the unconscious", she answered softly.

Sherlock snorted in frustration.

"Are you going to leave?", he asked.

She quickly turned around to face him.

"No. Of course not!", she exclaimed.

"You said…"

"I didn't mean what I said and you know it." She moved closer to him, put her hand around his waist and placed a kiss on his jaw. "I'm not going anywhere because I want to be with you. I don't know of many times I have to explain it. But you have to stop acting so… possessive with me. I told you from the beginning that I wanted to work and make money, I though you agreed with it. I didn't take this job to get away from you. But you have your experiments and your monographs to keep you busy. And I don't have… anything. You're not the only one who misses your work you know."

She didn't want to start another argument, but she needed to get those things off chest. There are been too much left unsaid between them during the past months.

After another moment of silence, he answered:

"I'm sorry I put you in this position."

"Sherlock. I married you remember? I chose to be you for better and worse. And I meant it. I know how hard this is for you. But it won't last forever. When we go back to London things will get better."

"What if we never go back to London? What if we never find Moran? I'm locked in here and I can't do anything! This is driving me crazy…I…" He stopped, his voice breaking.

"Shhh", she whispered, passing a calming hand through his hair. This remembered her of another time, long ago at the hospital, and fear suddenly invaded her.

"You're not having… that kind of thoughts again, are you?"

"No"

"You promise me? Promise me you wouldn't do anything stupid."

"Yes".

"OK. I think you shouldn't underestimate your brother. He might be a pain in the ass but he is the best at what he does. He will find Moran."

"I guess so", he managed to reply, containing his tears.

"Maybe… we should contact John and tell him the truth? He could visit you sometimes, I'm sure it would make you happy", she suggested.

"No, no we have to stick to the plan. John cannot know before this is all over."

"It is quite unlikely he is still being watched."

"If John knows that Moran is out somewhere, he will go after him. I don't want him involve in that, it's too dangerous."

"Do you want me to take a few days off?"

"No. I will call my therapist in Meiringen. Ask her if I should take my medication again."

Molly rested her head against Sherlock's chest and took his hand in hers.

"Did I already tell you that you're the bravest man I know?"

He squeezed her hand and kissed the top of her head.

"Are we good?", he asked.

"Yes", she said with a smile.

"At least it gave you something to write about in your diary."

"Oh, you know about the diary?"

"Of course I do."

"Did you read it?", she asked in worry.

"If you didn't notice, I rarely go upstairs. Which is I think the reason why you keep it here."

"We just said no more fighting."

"I'm not fighting. I'm only stating a fact. You keep a diary and you don't want me to know about it."

"That's… the concept of a diary darling. Nobody is supposed to read it but me."

"What is the point of writing it then?"

"It's just a way to… take some time to think about my day. What I did, how I feel…"

"That's all?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because I noticed you looked… preoccupied lately. I'm wondering if there's anything I should know about?"

"No, don't worry", she said, and gave him another kiss.

It was a lie, and they both knew it. But Mycroft was right, sentiment was not enough. Sometimes a few lies were necessary to make a marriage work. And that night, they fell asleep in peace with each other.

^/^

Christmas came, and then a new year started for the couple in Sussex. Mycroft visited them for Sherlock's birthday on January 6th. Sadly, he had no significant news to bring about the hunt for Moran.

Sherlock was back on a small dose of antidepressant, which helped to balance his mood swings. Molly was always keeping a close look on him. She also started to exchange on an internet forum with other women in the same situation. It was a comforting experience and she found some good suggestions, especially to use in bedroom.

The kittens got adopted by their respective families, leaving the house a bit empty. They only kept little Luna, for which Molly was a real doting mother.

Then, in March, something unbelievable happened. Something that couldn't be true.

Locked in the bathroom of the bookshop, Molly was holding a positive pregnancy test. The second one. Lost in her thoughts, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Molly? Molly are you alright?", called Jeremy.

"Yes !"

"Are you sure?"

She came out of the bathroom, her hands shaking slightly.

"Molly if you're sick you can go back home. It has been a few days you're not feeling well."

"I'm not sick Jeremy… I think… I think I'm pregnant."

"Pregnant? Molly this is fantastic!"

"I mean, I'm not sure. I need to see a doctor first. And then… god I don't even know how I'm going to tell Sher..". She stopped abruptly, realising she had almost betrayed herself. "Chéri. It means darling in French. That's how I call him sometimes."

"It's fine", said Jeremy with a knowing smile. "See that doctor, give me call and then go back to that lucky husband of yours… whatever his name is".

"Why are you telling this? His name is Alexandre."

"Molly, it's ok. We all have our little secrets." He pulled her in her arms and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm so happy for you".

^/^

"I want to tell you about something", said Molly, sitting on the side of the bed where Sherlock was settled with his laptop. He was making research for a future investigation techniques manual he planned to write. She coughed to get his attention, but his eyes were fixed on the screen. Frustrated, she closed the computer and took it away from him.

"Hey! I was reading something!", he complained.

"I said I wanted to talk to you, and I want you to listen to me."

"Couldn't it wait?"

"No". She got onto the bed and straddled him.

"OK well I'm listening", he surrendered.

Molly hesitated. Despite her excitement, she had been pushing back the announcement all evening. The last time she had told a man she pregnant, things had gone terribly wrong… Sherlock wasn't David but they had never discussed the possibility of having children one day so she had no idea of what his reaction could be. Also, she kept wondering if maybe he already knew? He was Sherlock Holmes, the man who could see everything. It seemed impossible that he had missed some pretty obvious symptoms. Was he deliberately ignoring it ?

"Sherlock do you have… any idea of what I want to tell you?"

"No. Could you please come to the point. You know I don't like riddles."

Molly bit her lower lip.

"Didn't you notice anything about me lately?"

"You keep saying that I shouldn't deduce you."

"Yes I know but…this time you're allowed."

His expression suddenly changed. She saw his eyes scanning her and he took one of her hand in his to study it carefully.

"You consulted a doctor today. You lost 1lb and you had nausea this week. It could be stomach flu but your nails are bitten, so you are worried. Also you didn't have your periods this month which could be another symptom." A shadow passed over his face. "Are you sick? Is it serious?"

"No, no I'm not sick. Listen, you have all the clues, but you just reached the wrong conclusion. I know you delete a lot of information but… this is actually very easy to guess."

He raised an eyebrow, obviously puzzled.

"Sherlock, I am pregnant."

"No", he said shaking his head. "No, this is impossible. The specialist said…"

"The specialist said that natural conception was improbable. But not impossible. We have sex, and we never used contraception because we thought it was unnecessary. I have nausea, my periods are late and a doctor confirmed me today that I was pregnant. I can show you the paper if you don't believe me. When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Isn't it what you say ? »

He started at her, dumbfounded. Then the news seemed to process into his mind and his face turned blank. For once he seemed to be completely speechless.

"Sherlock, please say something…anything…", she begged. "I know we should have talked about it before, and I'm aware the timing is not perfect. But… I want this baby more than anything. I want to have it with you. But if you don't want it then I'll have without you. I let it happened to me once but not twice..."

She covered her face with her hands, but he caught one of her wrist gently.

"That's not what I said. It's just that… it's something I never considered."

"Having a child?"

"Yes. I am not sure I have what it takes. My patience is very limited."

"That's not true. I saw once with one a little girl at Bart's, the one who had just lost her mother. You were very patient with her, and you found the right words."

"There's a difference between interrogating a child, and having one of your own…I doubt I would make a suitable father."

"I'm sure you will be a great father", she told him with a smile. But he didn't reciprocate. He looked truly worried and Molly realised it might be for another reason.

"OK what is it that really bothers you?", she inquired. "Does it has something to do… with what happened to you as a child?"

"No…" he said with a sigh. "I was never happy as a child, even before it happened. I could never be carefree because I had that constant flow of information going through my brain and I had no idea of what to do with it. It was a burden I carried until I created this job but it took me years. Mycroft has it, my grandmother had it, and I don't think it is fair to pass it on to anybody."

"OK first of all your genes are not the only ones involved, and the Hooper family doesn't really have a history of geniuses…"

"You are smart."

"Thank you dear but my point is… I don't think you were unhappy because of your IQ. From what you told me about your family, it seems that your parents weren't really available for you and they didn't give you much affection. Same thing for Mycroft. But, if our child happens to have this gift, it will be different. Because he or she will have you to help him make the best out of it. You know, it's the same for me. My mum was far from perfect but I will do my best not to be like her. Because I already love that baby so much!"

Finally, a smile, or rather a smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"It's good to see you so happy",

"I'm beyond happy. I'm completely ecstatic."

"I'm absolutely terrified", he confessed.

"No…", she said giggling. "You'll be great at this, like you are at everything. And with a child at home, you'll never get bored anymore. EVER!"

He put his hands on her hips, pulled up her nightie and stared at her belly with curiosity.

"Can I touch?"

"Sure. But you won't feel anything for the moment;"

He passed his hand over her stomach, so delicately that it made her shiver.

"It's really tiny for the moment, just an embryo. But soon I will become as big as a whale."

"When will it be born?"

"It is one month old, so do your maths."

"How would I know?"

"Are you kidding? How would you NOT know? 9 months Sherlock! It's for October."

"I need more about data. How is the development process? When do you know the gender?"

"Ok ok, I'll bring you a book about that. We have a great one at the store, it explains to children how babies are made."

"Well I already found out about that part."

"That's true". She lowered down and kissed him, tenderly first, then more passionately.

"Can we still…engage into this type of activities? I mean isn't it dangerous?"

"No, it's fine. Actually some pregnant women have an increased libido", she whispered into his hear. "And the other news you're going to enjoy is that my breast is going to bet bigger."

"I never complained about your breast."

"Yes you did. Christmas party, two years ago. And about my lips, on numerous occasions."

"I deleted that"

"Yes, how convenient."

Sherlock pulled up her nightie again and this time took it off completely. Her body hadn't changed yet but he could already feel the difference. A newly found confidence was radiating from her, and it was incredibly beautiful. He closed his eyes for the moment, trying to catalogue the feelings buzzling in his mind palace. There was pride, fear, excitement and a new set of priorities. He would never walk again but in his dreams, and maybe Moran would never be found but in a way it didn't mattered anymore. Because the woman he loved was expecting a child. His child. And nothing could be more important than this.