Chapter 2

August

"Heartbeat. See." The technician increased the sound. Molly and Sherlock both heard the flutter. A little beat that flirted across the screen in a normal sinus rhythm. Molly smiled at Sherlock.

"Fascinating. Did you know that the baby is the size of a strawberry," Sherlock started sprouting. Leaning in, his fingers tracing the small outline on the screen. "And all their organs have developed…"

"Sherlock," Molly said softly. She gently pulled Sherlock towards her, away from the technician and the screen. "I think she knows these facts."

He looked towards her. "Oh. Right." His gaze was drawn to the screen again and he gave a small, satisfied smile. "Molly…" he said in awe, "that's our baby we made."

"I know, Sherlock. That's generally what happens when you have sex," she teased.

"Uh. O-okay." The technician tactfully focused on the screen. "Everything is looking good." Did measurements on screen. "Good size for 10 weeks. How's the nausea?"

"Manageable," Molly said. "Not sure why it's called morning sickness. It seems to be worse towards the end of the day. Just really tired. That's the main complaint, I guess."

The technician gave a small chuckle. "Yeah, well. Fatigue is pretty common. Your body is hard at work getting everything ready for you and baby. Nausea will be amplified by fatigue. Sleep when you can."

Molly nodded. "Yeah. I'm aware, thanks."

"An appointment with a gynaecologist has been set up for you?" she asked Molly.

"Yes. Just precaution."

"Okay. This should be available for the doctor to see. You're a little underweight. Not by much but I'm guessing that's where the caution lies."

Molly looked towards Sherlock. Took a deep breath. "It won't affect the baby?" She asked.

"No. As long as you eat healthy and take in enough calories, you should be fine. Baby will take what it needs from you, that's why it's important you eat enough." Gave her an encouraging smile as she wiped Molly clean. "There. All good."

"Thanks," Molly said. Her hand that was still in Sherlock's tightened. Watched as he was still enraptured by the screen. His other hand traced her stomach where the technician had cleaned. Then he looked at Molly.

"Ours."

She nodded. Smiled. "Ours."

"Anything further, Sherlock," Lestrade asked. John and the DI were seated in his office. The file of the big game hunter lay open in front of him. 2 Weeks and they had gotten no further on the case.

"I have a few theories." Sherlock stated. Turned from the window and focused on the older man. "But I need more data."

"You want to take another spider home?" Lestrade asked with a straight face.

"Uh…no. That won't be necessary." Sherlock said immediately. He paused as John started to chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing," John said.

"Are you two having a laugh?"

"Okay Sherlock, you must agree. It was bloody hilarious." Lestrade grinned.

"No, it wasn't. I had to spend the night at my brother's."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad…" Lestrade started to say.

"Mycroft thought it appropriate to discuss paperwork with me."

John snickered at Lestrade's confused look. "Mycroft wanted Sherlock to sort out his will and testament. Update and revised because of his marriage and the fact that Molly's pregnant."

"Ah. Have you ever done…"

"No. I never saw the need before now." Sherlock stated haughtily.

"Pretty common thing to do, Sherlock. Do you have any life insurance?"

"Why?"

"Okay." Lestrade leaned back in his chair. "Mate, you're going to become a father. Those are the kind of things you need to get sorted. In case anything happens to you."

"Why would anything happen to me?" he asked. Silence met his statement. "Because of Oliver and Alex," he answered. "But that was outliers. I'm generally not in dangerous situations like that very often…besides, they weren't planning my death. They wanted to keep me."

"Sherlock," John gazed at him from the chair he's sitting in. "More than most. Won't you agree?"

Sherlock frowned. Silence reigned for another minute as the two other men allowed Sherlock to process. His eyes widened. "Oh…I see." He pouted. "Mycroft?" he asked John.

"Yeah. That would be a good idea. He'll be able to help. I won't be surprised if he hadn't already sorted that one out for you."

"Fine. Can we now get back to the case."

"Yeah. So, Mr Weston is clean. He didn't even have parking tickets."

"This is London, Lestrade. I don't have parking tickets because I have no car. There are those of criminal intent that don't own cars. It's an incorrect supposition to make that parking tickets equate to criminal behaviour."

"It's just a statement, Sherlock. Meant to emphasise that he has no outstanding warrants or have even been on the police's radar."

"Fine."

"SOCCO has done a full analysis. The scratches seem to have been created by a tool similar to a digging fork. They recon a homemade one based on an actual lion's paw."

"Told you," Sherlock smirked at John. "Fabricated."

"Yes, well. Still doesn't take away the dead guy, Sherlock. Why did they dress him up, you think?"

Sherlock frowned. "As I said. I have a few theories."

John sighed. Lestrade knew the pair well enough by now to read them. "Okay," he placated. "Let's leave this on the backburner for now. The spiders are all still alive and well. Looked after at the zoo."

"They're not even that rare," Sherlock said. Plopped himself down finally on the other chair. "Mexican red knees are often the first pet spider people get. They're very docile. Easy to handle."

"Yes, well. Why were they hidden away then?"

"I don't know." Sherlock was short. Clearly irritated with not knowing the answer. "If he was smuggling spiders, then I would have thought he'd have gone for the rarer varieties. The Mexican jade fuego can fetch just under 2500 pounds. Surely that would be more profitable than a garden variety species he had."

"Maybe it's somebody who had a gripe against smugglers in general?"

Sherlock didn't answer Lestrade. He had a faraway look on his face, clearly thinking and not part of the conversation anymore. Lestrade let him be. Made general conversation with John until Sherlock came to himself with a deep breath.

"Oh…"

"Did Michael Weston belong to any big game clubs?"

Lestrade frowned. "What?"

"Hunting clubs, Lestrade. Do keep up."

"I thought those didn't really exist anymore, Sherlock. Bit of bad taste nowadays, don't you think?" John said.

"Okay. Then an illegal one? Or a secret one? I need more data," Sherlock said, rose and left abruptly. Leaving John floundering behind as he rapidly tried to get up and follow the consulting detective. Gave Lestrade an apologetic look as he exited his office with one last backward glance.

"Mycroft, a word." Murray said, hurrying after him. Mycroft paused and turned. Waited for the other man to catch up to him.

"No hard feelings?" the other man asked.

"There is nothing to be discussed," Mycroft said, eyeing the hallway they were standing in. "May I remind you that you are obligated under the secrecy act…"

"Yes, yes. No need to bring it up."

"What do you want?" Mycroft asked, letting his annoyance show.

"I got a package this morning. There was a memory stick inside. No traces on the package and dropped off at the front office by a teenage junky. We managed to find him and he wasn't very helpful in identifying who had given it to him. Just that he got a hundred pounds to deliver it this morning."

"Yes?"

"Mycroft. There's a video file on here." Murray said, fishing the memory stick out of his pocket and holding it out to Mycroft. "I think you'll want to see it. Preferably somewhere private."

Molly came home to find Sherlock in front of his laptop. John seated in his chair reading a paper. She placed the food on the table as she took her jacket off. Glad to once again see that there were no containers with spiders on the table.

"Let me help," John said as he unpacked plates and got containers out. "Sherlock!" He admonished his friends.

"Oh. Hi Molly," Sherlock said but his eyes were still very much on the screen. He moved the mouse, clicked and continued to read whatever was on the screen.

Molly moved over. Leaned down and pulled his chin up until he focused on her. "Sherlock. I'm home."

His eyes focused on her. Kept wanting to move back to the screen and she saw the effort involved for him to curb whatever was drawing his attention away.

"You can come back to this after we've eaten, okay."

"Okay," he said finally. Rose then gave her a brief kiss as he made his way over to the table. Shuffled his food in. Left half the plate before he made his way back to the laptop.

"Hey, at least he's eating something. Before you, he wouldn't eat anything while he was on a case." John said to Molly, glancing to where Sherlock was already engrossed at whatever was on the screen he was reading.

"I know. I almost feel like I'm getting some practice in before this one comes." She says; a hand on her stomach.

"How's the nausea?"

"Yep. Still there. As long as I eat small meals throughout the day, it seems to help."

John nodded. "That's generally what I advise my patients. And rest, Molly. You're supposed to take it a little easier so that you can rest. I'm sure Mike will give you the time off in the afternoons."

"No. I'm okay. Thanks," Molly said. Ate another mouthful and grimaced. "We have an appointment with Claire tomorrow."

"Is Sherlock aware," John asked with a chuckle. He was clearly not cognizant of their conversation. Fully focused on what he was researching on the screen.

"Yes. We need to be there at 10. John…"

John smiled. "It's fine. I'll make sure he gets there."

"Thanks."

"Yeah. No problem." He looked towards Sherlock. "He's come a long way. From when I first met him."

"I can hear you, you know," Sherlock piped up from the laptop. Didn't even glance their way. "Molly, why do I need to be there with Claire? John does my measurements. Another month and I should be fattened up to everyone's satisfaction and finally be done with this ridiculous mothering."

Molly turned to him. Put her fork down. "Because it's what people do, Sherlock. They support each other. Claire needs to adjust my diet to make sure our child gets all the nutrients they'd need. And me too."

Sherlock looked up from where he was hunched over the screen. Met her gaze. "Oh. That makes sense."

She smiled and he nodded. Went back to his work.

"See," John said softly with a wink. "After this," he gestured to Sherlock, "bringing up a child is going to be a cakewalk."

"Just lie still."

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" Molly asked exasperated. He was hovering over her, pushing her pyjama top up.

"Okay, if I remember my anatomy correctly, the uterus will be approximately here. His hand tracing the outline of her stomach, just above her pubic bone. Softly and in any other setting would've been incredibly sensual. But not now while he was in full science mode.

He stretched out to his bedside table. Took up something and when he placed it on his stomach did she see the strawberry.

"Really?" she asked incredulously.

"Visually this makes it so much more real, don't you think?" he murmured. Eyed the strawberry and shifted it slightly.

"We go to bed and you're focused on placing a strawberry on my stomach?"

"Yes," he said succinctly. Didn't even glance at her as he tilted his head. Gave a soft smile. "Our baby's still tiny. I can't believe that this," he picked up the fruit, "is going to become the size of a watermelon."

"That I have to push out, Sherlock."

"Did you know that Relaxin is a hormone that is produced by your ovary and placenta. It relaxes your pelvis and softens and widens the cervix. That is why a baby the size of a watermelon can be born."

Molly suppressed a sigh. The amount of research Sherlock had done so far was enough to get him an honorary degree in midwifery. She wouldn't be surprised if he could hold a conversation with the gynaecologist in all matter's pregnancy related. Thought back to the conversation she had had with Lestrade earlier in the day.

"Greg. You have to help me. I'm desperate."

"What do you mean?"

"He's gone nuclear. He's reading medical journals on pregnancy and foetal development."

"Oh. Uh, isn't that pretty normal…for him that is."

"You owe me."

"Molly, surely it isn't that bad?"

"He put different vegetables and fruit on the table to see the size of the foetus in relation to each month."

"Uh, okay."

"You will help me Greg, or so help me I will tell everyone what you did last Christmas as the office pub lunch."

"You wouldn't…"

"I'm a desperate woman. Don't tempt me."

"Fine. I'll give him a call. We're still dealing with the case of that guy that was posed as a hunter. Maybe that will distract him."

"Sherlock," she said, pulling him closer. Taking the strawberry from his hand, she dropped it onto her bedside table. "How about you focus on me for a moment?"

His eyes widened ever so slightly as he finally made the connection. "Which part?" he said with a sly grin. Brushed a soft kiss on her belly. "Do you want me lower or higher?" he questioned her. Eyed her from his position. She was amazed how he could shift focus. Like a switch had been thrown.

She grinned. Her hand reaching out and softly pushing his hair away from his forehead. Amazed that he was here. That this was her life. Grateful for the ending to something as horrible as Oliver and Alex.

"What do you think?" she whispered. "Why don't you deduce me?"

He grinned. Lifted his head and scanned her fully. Made his own interpretation and then he leaned over her. His hands deft as he unbuttoned her shirt and then he kissed her. Leaned his forehead on hers.

"Love you," he breathed. And then he showed her exactly what he'd learned about her body.

And it was good.