AN - Hello again dears! This is just a little something that happened while I was supposed to be doing homework tonight. Thank you so so much to everyone who's read/reviewed/favourited and followed this so far, you really are all so lovely :)

The blissful silence of Baker Street was shattered by a loud wailing noise. Molly's eyes snapped open and she turned in Sherlock's arms.

"Sherlock..." Molly whispered. "Sherlock...Sherlock!" The whisper quickly turned to a hiss.

"Mmphf." Was the sleepy reply from the consulting detective. Molly rolled her eyes in the darkness as the wailing from the cradle at the foot of the bed intensified.

"The baby's awake, Sherlock."

"Probably hungry." Sherlock replied while fighting to stay asleep.

Molly sighed as she untangled herself from Sherlock's arms and the bedsheets. "I thought parenting was supposed to be 50/50?"

"It would be, if I had the anatomical equipment necessary to breastfeed our son." The consulting detective had given up on remaining asleep and was now sitting up, watching Molly with sleepy eyes.

"There are bottles ready in the fridge you know." Molly glanced at her husband while she scooped her screeching child into her arms.

"You know he only takes a bottle if you aren't available. For a six week old he is remarkably stubborn."

"Wonder where he gets that from?" Molly arched a pretty brow at Sherlock, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The pathologist returned to her side of the bed, a still fussing Dominick cradled in her arms.

Sherlock twisted around to switch on the small lap next to his side of the bed. Turning back, he glanced at the alarm clock next to Molly. 2;13 am. The consulting detective watched on in awed silence as Molly fed their child, the contented look on Molly's face always interested him. When the baby had been fed, winded and provided with a fresh nappy by his father - who was reluctant to retreat from bed to do so - he was still no more settled than he had been when he'd woken his parents.

"Perhaps he's bored." Sherlock called over his shoulder to Molly. The detective as pacing back and forth between bedroom and living room, his tiny son held securely against his chest.

"He's only six weeks old. Boredom shouldn't be a problem for a while yet, surely?" Molly asked as she made her way past her boys and into the kitchen, flipping the light switch on as she passed.

"Maybe not for an average child, but any child of ours is hardly going to be average."

"Modest as ever, Mr. Holmes." Molly giggled as she filled the kettle and switched it on. If tonight was to be a sleepless night they were going to need tea, and lots of it.

Sherlock sauntered into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table, Dominick cradled in his arms. While the baby had now stopped crying he was most definitely wide awake. "Maybe we should phone John. He and Mary have been through all this with Lucy, no doubt."

"Sherlock, love, it's 2;30 in the morning and they have a toddler. I don't think they'll thank you if you phone them right now." Molly smiled softly and placed a mug of tea on the table in front of him. "Although...remember when we told them I was pregnant and they tried telling us what helped them cope during Lucy's first couple of months...and you told them we didn't need any help because babies couldn't possibly be that difficult to deal with?"

Sherlock only sighed in answer. Molly resisted the urge to look smug.

"Well, Mary said her and John would take Lucy out in her pram when she wouldn't sleep. Might be worth a try." Molly's fingertips brushed over the barely there curls on her son's head.

Sherlock nodded. "Motion is said to be an effective way to lull a child to sleep."

20 minutes later and the Hooper-Holmes family were wrapped up warm and ready to go. Dominick was comfortable in his pram, cooing to himself and kicking his tiny legs. While it wasn't a particularly cold night, there was a definite bite to the air, the sort that leaves a light frost behind in the morning.

Molly pushed the pram, Sherlock at her side with one hand resting on the small of her back. The detective allowed himself a moment to revel in his fondness for the city at night. The way everything seemed to change with fading of light into dark, even the sounds of the city became more subdued.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Molly smiled, gazing up at her husband for a moment. She was used to seeing him so lost in thought while he was in his mind palace.

Sherlock returned his wife's smile. "I was just thinking how quiet the city is at night. People don't take the time to appreciate that enough."

"Ah..." Molly laughed quietly. "London, Sherlock Holmes' true love."

"How wrong you are, Mrs. Holmes." Sherlock flashed his wife one of the lopsided smiles he reserved only for her.

"Charmer." Molly responded with a giggle and roll of her eyes.

They walked on in comfortable silence for a few minutes until Molly noticed that Dominick's cooing and gurgling had stopped. She leaned over, peering into the pram.

"Sherlock, look." She whispered, a look of utter adoration on her face.

Sherlock followed his wife's gaze to see his son, fast asleep with his thumb in his mouth.

"Once more down the street and back? Just to be sure?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"Okay." Molly nodded.

"My turn to push." Sherlock stated, taking charge of the pram. Molly looped her arm through his and they walked on, back to Baker Street, and back to bed.