OK! Chapter 50 is here! *throws confetti*

Now you may have noticed something … and maybe not. I'll just hush up and let you read on. See you down at the bottom! ENJOY! :)

Chapter Fifty - But ... It's Never Twins!

"But ... it's never twins!" Sherlock scoffed.

Molly fought back a smile as she turned about to face him, careful not to jostle the water too much. "It is this time," she said, smoothing her hand across her belly. "We're going to have a boy and girl."

He buffered. For several minutes. She waited patiently, smiling gently when he started to blink and came back to her.

"Truly?" he asked, looking down as he placed his hand on top of hers on her belly. "You're carrying twins?" His eyes moved back up to meet hers. "We're going to have two babies?"

She nodded. "Yes, we are! I can show you the sonogram later."

He pulled her closer and kissed her. "Molly, you are an incredible woman."

She laughed. "I can't take all of the credit. You're part of this too you know."

"Oh I know, but it's you that has to deal with the brunt of it." He kissed her again.

When they parted she leaned against him, pressing her face into his chest. "I'm scared Sherlock," she admitted in a whisper.

He tightened his arms around her. "I-so am I. But we have each other, we can do this. And I know for certain that you can."

She sat up to look at him.

"You are an extraordinarily strong and brave woman Molly," he said to her. "I know you can do this."

She snuggled back up against him, and he buried his nose in her hair.

"I suppose this means I need to double my reading efforts," he mumbled, making her giggle.

They stayed in the bath until the water grew cold. After toweling dry they crawled naked into their bed, curling up together.

"I'm surprised you are back so soon," she said to him." I thought a serial poisoner would take a couple of days at least."

His pressed his face into the crook of her neck, and was gently placing his lips against her skin again and again, but when she spoke these words he breathed out loudly against her. "It was a false lead," he said. "Not a serial poisoner at all. Well … not of humans at least."

She leaned back to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"It was serial poisonings of animals. A disgruntled farmer, turned mad-man," he explained, ending in a grunt. "Hardly worth the trip."

"Oh … that's a shame. You haven't had any good cases recently."

He moved onto his side, tucking his arm around her. "Doesn't matter. I've got plenty to occupy myself with … even more so now." He untucked his arm to splay his hand across her stomach, looking down at it. "Two babies …" he murmured in awe.

She covered his hand with hers. "We still haven't decided on a name … and now we have to pick two."

"Mmmm …" he turned his hand, lacing their fingers together. Their eyes met as he settled his head beside hers, but just as he opened his mouth to speak she cut him off.

"No. We are not naming our son after your Uncle Rudy," she stated firmly.

Sherlock frowned slightly. "That wasn't what I was going to suggest at all!"

She smiled. "Just wanted to make sure."

He sniffed slightly. "I was thinking Rory … for the boy. After your father."

Her eyes filled with tears. She leaned her forehead against him, and he released her hand to pull her closer.

"Do you like that?" he asked.

She nodded, and sniffled before answering. "Yes, I think it's perfect."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "What about the girl?"

"Julia, after your cousin," she said after a moment had passed.

"Oh?" His eyes widened slightly.

"Yeah … do-do you mind?"

He tightened his arm around. "No. I don't mind."

"Your mother - she - she told me about her. How you, Sherrinford and Julia were inseparable when you were little." She felt him nod. "She sounded like she was wonderful, such a shame that her life ended so soon."

He pressed his face into her neck. "She was just a child, that accident should never have happened."

Molly moved her fingers through his curls. "As difficult as it is to understand, sometimes people's lives are cut short, and there's nothing we can do about it. All that we can do is remember them, love them and honour their memory."

He raised his head and kissed her gently. "How is it that you always know the right thing to say?"

She shook her head. "I don't, not at all."

He smoothed his hand down her back. "Well, you always seem to know the right thing to say to me."

She kissed him.

"What about middle names?" she asked.

"We're not giving them two," he declared, making her giggle.

"Wouldn't think of it!"

"Hamish for the boy," he deadpanned. "Most definitely,"

She snorted a laugh. "You just want that to make fun of John."

"Mmmmm … but I also rather like the name."

She laughed again, before letting out a quiet hum as he placed kisses along her jawline. "Elise for the girl," she said. "No particular reason, I've just always liked the name."

He chuckled. "Julia Elise Holmes and Rory Hamish Holmes," he said softly.

"I like the way those sound."

He nuzzled her cheek with his nose. "So do I."

They kissed again, and he gently rolled her onto her back. His hands moved across her skin, stroking her body. He followed his hands with his mouth, placing kisses here and there. But after covering her belly with kisses, and when he moved to settle himself between her legs, she stopped him by murmuring his name. He gave her a questioning look.

"I need you inside me," she said, slightly breathless.

His cock throbbed at her words. He moved himself over her, before cupping the side of her face in his hand and kissing her. He groaned into her mouth when he felt her grasp his cock in her hand. She gave his length a few strokes then positioned him at her entrance. He could feel the heat of her, the head of his cock just barely touching her wetness.

Their eyes met, and their gaze locked as he eased his length into her. Molly let out a blissful sigh, her hips rising up to meet his. She ran her hands down his back, not stopping until they reached the curve of his arse. She held the supple flesh in her hands, pressing him down to her. Her rounded belly met his, and he smiled. They kissed as he began to thrust.

She moaned into his mouth, raising her legs to either side of his hips, shifting his cock inside of her. "Fuck!" she whimpered.

He settled into a slow and easy rhythm, basking in her tight, wet heat. She was mewling softly, and he was murmuring her name over and over. He cupped her breast in his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, before pinching her nipple which made her moan loudly. His hips stuttered at the sound. He reached back, gripping onto her thigh to raise her leg slightly higher, changing the angle he was entering her.

"Oh God!" she gasped. "That feels -ohhhh!-that feels so good!" She held tightly onto his arms, her back arching slightly, bringing her breasts closer to him. Her toes were beginning to curl.

He latched onto her rosy nipple, suckling on it hungrily. She was moaning incessantly now. He switched from breast to breast, not stopping until he felt her walls grow ever so tight around his cock. She cried out his name, throwing her head back into the pillow. He only managed several more artless thrusts, before he followed her over the precipice, whispering her name. His cock was pulsing and throbbing as he buried himself deep within her.

She held tightly onto him, wanting to keep him close to her, inside of her. He slowly rolled onto his side, cradling her body against his, while pressing kisses to her skin.

"I love you," she whispered to him.

He kissed her. "I love you too, my Molly."

They basked in their afterglow, whispering softly to each other as their hands wandered, while sharing in tender kisses. Eventually they both fell asleep, curled up side by side.

It wasn't until much later that she suddenly woke for no apparent reason, and a shockingly bright light met her eyes when she opened them.

"Oh God Sherlock!" she shrieked. "Lower the brightness on that bloody thing!" She pressed her face into her pillow, tears leaking out from her eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled, turning his laptop away from her. "Didn't realize I had it up so high."

She risked a small peek, and was pleased to discover that it was now safe. "What on earth are you doing? It's the middle of the night!"

"Mmm … technically it's early morning."

"Sherlock…"

"I was working on a diagram for the nursery," he stated.

"What?" she said, moving to sit up.

He turned the screen back around to face her so that she could see what he had been creating.

"Oh … blast … you've completely thwarted my plans!" she wailed.

His brow furrowed. "Hmmm?"

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. "I was going to have Mycroft give you a case to take you away from Baker Street for a few days. I wanted it to be a surprise."

Sherlock closed his laptop and placed it on the bedside table, before he turned and gathered her into his arms. "And did you expect this little plan of yours to work?" he questioned, while nuzzling her ear with the tip of his nose.

She couldn't help but giggle. "No, but I wanted to at least try." She leaned back and he gave her a gentle kiss.

"I suppose it's best this way though," she noted. "So we can work on it together."

"Mmm…" He kissed her again.

She smoothed her hand across his chest. "I was going to decorate the room in a bee theme."

For that he kissed her soundly.

"Oh! I rather think you like that idea!" she said with a laugh, once they had parted.

He kissed her again. "I was considering the same thing," he told her between more kisses.

"Were you? I'm honestly not surprised."

They kissed again.

"And I was also going to have Mycroft take care of it," Sherlock told her.

Molly laughed. "You mean Anthea?"

"Yes."

They laughed together, ending it with another kiss.

"I was going to take you away for a few days while everything was being taken care of," he said. "Get out of London."

"Oh? Anywhere in particular?" she asked.

"Somewhere near the sea, I know how much you like it."

"That sounds lovely," she sighed.

He smiled. "I thought you might."

She snuggled closer to him.

"Shall we then?" he asked.

"Yes please!"

He kissed her once more.

"How about the twenty-first of December to the twenty-eighth?" he asked between several more kisses.

Molly leaned away from him, her brow furrowing. "Why those particular dates?"

He attempted an expression of nonchalance. "No reason."

She narrowed her eyes. "You don't want to have to spend Christmas with your parents, do you?"

His expression fell. "No. I don't. And you'll know they'll ask."

She chuckled softly. "Well … since this will be our last Christmas before we are joined by our new additions … it would be rather nice to spend it just with you."

He kissed her again, rather soundly.

"What do you think of Sussex Downs?" he asked once they parted.

"In December? It will be freezing!"

He shrugged. "What of it? I intend on keeping you in bed, where it will be very, very warm."

She laughed, it quickly turning into a moan when he slipped his hand between her legs and he began to stroke her. They made love slowly, dragging out each other's pleasure. Once they were both sated they took a quick shower, changed the sheets and buried beneath the covers. Molly fell asleep quickly, but Sherlock laid awake for a bit longer, continuing to work on his laptop, this time with the brightness lowered.

The rest of November passed in a blur, as did the majority of December. The Watson's came over for a pre-Christmas celebration a few days before Molly and Sherlock were to leave for their holiday. Little Scott was a healthy, bouncing baby boy, and Emily was a truly doting bigger sister. Molly's heart nearly ached at the sight, and made her long for the day when she would see her own two little babies interacting with each other. She had been doing quite a bit of reading about twins and their behaviours and was finding it fascinating, as was Sherlock.

"You better make sure you pack plenty of warm clothes," Mary said, breaking Molly out of her reverie.

She blinked then turned to look at her friend. "Oh, don't worry, I will … and uhh … I'm not really sure how much time we'll be spending outside." She blushed as she finished her sentence.

Mary smiled knowingly. "Ahh, so it's going to be that sort of holiday eh? A babymoon?"

Molly giggled. "I suppose so."

Mary leaned forward and placed her hand on Molly's arm. "Appreciate and enjoy each other while you still can, when it's still just the two of you. A lot does change once a baby is added to the mix, and you'll not be having just one baby, but two, three if you count Sherlock."

Molly let out a soft snort, but nodded in agreement. "We plan to enjoy ourselves," she said, with an impish smirk.

Mary laughed loudly, causing both John and Sherlock to look at them.

"What are you two discussing?" John questioned, which resulted in only making the two women laugh.

"Better off leaving it John … ignorance is bliss," Sherlock stated, knowing all too well by the flush of Molly's cheeks that it would be best if John didn't continue to pry.

Later that evening, once the Watsons and their "offspring" (as Sherlock liked to refer to them) had left, the two of them curled up together on the sofa, the fire faintly glowing.

"What a difference a year makes," Molly murmured suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, I was just thinking back to around this time last year," she explained. "Mary was pregnant, not me."

"Ahhh …" He brushed his nose along the shell of her ear. "Just think of how different next year will be." He could just make out her smile in the dying light of the fire.

"Yeah, what a Christmas that will be, with our babies," she said.

Sherlock tucked her closer against his body.

"Don't think though," she noted, "that you'll get out of spending it with your parents."

"Mmm, no, suppose not."

She chuckled. "Our son and daughter are going to be very spoiled by them, aren't they?"

"Yes."

They both grew silent, the only sound a faint crack from the fire.

"It's late Molly," Sherlock noted. "You should get to bed, you need your rest."

"Mmmm … I am rather tired."

He helped her stand, then led her to their bedroom. She quickly changed into her pyjamas, and after brushing her teeth and washing her face she crawled into their bed. A happy sigh escaped her as she burrowed beneath the blankets, one arm tucked around her belly. Sherlock watched her for a moment, a small smile on his lips, before he too got ready for bed.

She was fast asleep by the time he slipped beneath the covers. When he curled himself around her she let out a small noise, but didn't waken. He pressed his lips to her forehead, and not for the first time wondered how he had managed to become so incredibly lucky.

The next few days went by quickly. Sherlock had managed to pack all that he needed in one small suitcase, while Molly had somehow managed to pack a large one, with another smaller bag for "essentials" as she called them.

"Molly, how can you possibly need all of this," he paused to gesture at the suitcase before continuing, "when we're only going to be away for eight days?"

"It's winter Sherlock! And we're going to be by the sea! It will be cold," she explained.

He gave a sniff of disdain. "I think I'll be doing a rather good job at keeping you warm."

She laughed. "We're not spending our entire holiday in bed Sherlock, we'll need to get some fresh air at some point."

He pouted. "Must we? Fresh air is so … boring. Being in bed with you is far less boring."

She rolled her eyes towards the heavens. "I'm a pregnant woman Sherlock! I need to get up and move about, I can't just lie in bed and shag all day."

"Why not? It's perfectly good exercise."

She grabbed the nearby pillow and tossed it at his head. He caught it though before it reached its target.

"Are you certain you have everything you need?" she asked him, attempting to change the topic.

"Yes. Are you? I think you practically took your entire wardrobe," he quipped.

She threw another pillow at him, this time it hit its target because he had become distracted by his phone.

"AHH!" he exclaimed, making her burst into giggles.

He glared at her while he pocketed his phone. "You'll pay for that, later, the car is here."

"Oh! Perfect timing, I just finished packing," she said.

It was Sherlock's turn to roll his eyes, certain that he would never understand women and their need for bringing every item of clothing they owned whenever they went on holiday. As he zipped up her suitcase and stood it on its wheels he had a brief flashback to what she had brought on their honeymoon. He shook his head, then smirked when he also remembered that she had barely worn any of the clothes she had brought with her. He intended for this holiday to go exactly the same way.

"Ready?" he asked her, when she came out of the bathroom.

She nodded. "Yes. Just don't be surprised if we have to stop twenty times on the way there, my bladder can't seem to hold a single drop anymore!"

Molly's words ended up holding true. What was supposed to take nearly two hours, turned into nearly three, due to the frequent stops they needed to make.

"We should have just taken a helicopter," Sherlock stated, very nearly grousing. "Would have been so much quicker."

"Yes, but remember the reason why we didn't? No bathrooms!"

He huffed a breath. "Fine, a plane then!"

She laughed. "Oh stop it you, there's no use complaining anymore, we're here!"

He looked out the window. "Oh, so we are."

They got out of the car.

"Ahhh, feels wonderful to be back on my feet!" she said. "Definitely need to walk about for a bit." She rubbed at her lower back as she looked at the cottage. "Gosh Sherlock, this place is really lovely."

"You all right, no pain?" he questioned.

"I'm fine, don't worry. Just a tiny bit achy from sitting for so long. Do. Not. Worry." She gave his hand a squeeze, before turning to look at the cottage. "How did you find this place? It's amazing! All of this, just for the two of us?"

Sherlock followed her gaze. "Yes well, it does actually sleep six …"

"Six? Bloody hell … what do we need all the space for?"

He shrugged. "A different location for each shag?"

She rolled her eyes and started to move up the path to the front door. "Just like on our honeymoon …" she muttered beneath her breath.

"What's that?" he called out, taking their luggage from the driver.

She stopped and waited at the door, not answering him until he joined her.

"I said, just like on our honeymoon."

"Oh?"

She smirked cheekily. "You were determined that we make love in every room in the villa," she explained.

He smiled widely. "And we succeeded, didn't we?"

She laughed. "Yes, we did."

He unlocked the door and she followed him inside.

"Wow," Molly breathed out as she looked around her. "This really is beautiful. How did you find this place?"

Sherlock nodded his head from side to side. "I have my ways and means."

She gave a small humph.

"Bedroom is upstairs," he said. "Wait for me here, I'll bring the luggage up, then come back for you."

She gave him a look. "I'm perfectly capable of going up the stairs on my own. I do it every day at Baker Street."

"I know. But I prefer to be at your side, just in case." He spoke with a such a concerned expression that she felt her confidence waning.

"All right, fine. I'll wait for you. My knight in shining armour."

He grimaced slightly, his nose crinkling, which made her giggle. She took off her coat and scarf while he brought their luggage up, knowing she wouldn't be able to remove her boots until Sherlock returned. How she hated not being able to see nor have access to her feet. A few minutes later he returned and they made their way upstairs.

"Wow! That has to be the largest bed I have ever seen!" she exclaimed.

"All the better for me to make love to you in," he rumbled out, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.

"Is sex all you ever think of?" she asked.

"Absolutely not. There's loads of other things. Loads!"

She laughed loudly before sitting on the edge of the bed. "Help me off with these?" she asked, holding up her foot and wiggling it.

Sherlock kneeled down in front of her and undid the laces on her boots before slipping them off. "Want the socks off too?"

"Yes please!"

He removed the socks, placing a kiss on the top of each foot before he stood. He kissed her before helping her to stand.

"Shall I start a fire?" he asked.

"Oh! Sure! That'd be nice."

He moved over to the fireplace and kneeled down in front of it. Molly moved about the room, looking it over, opening and closing drawers, not stopping until she came to the oversized wardrobe. He had just finished stacking a few logs and was holding a match beneath the starter, waiting for it to light, when suddenly she let out a noise of dismay.

"Oh God Sherlock, I'm as big as a house!" she wailed.

The starter lit and he tossed the match on top of the logs. He turned about and straightened, looking at Molly who was stood in front of the wardrobe that had a long mirror attached to it. She was viewing herself with a rather affronted expression.

For a very, very brief moment he considered pointing out the fact that her choice of phrase was entirely impossible, but then he realized that this would only make matters worse. How proud John would have been of him to witness him learning to hold his tongue!

"How could you possibly want to make love to this?" she asked, tightening her loose shirt across her belly so that it became more prominent. "I look like I swallowed a watermelon!" Her tone was so despondent that it made his heart ache.

"Molly, my Molly," he murmured softly as he stepped up behind her. "You are carrying two lives inside of your body, you are nurturing them and keeping them warm and safe." He ran his hands across her belly before slipping his arms around her and cradling her as close as he could manage. "I never understood why anyone would tell a pregnant woman that they were 'glowing', I always thought it was just some silly attempt at placating … but now I do understand, because it's true. You are positively radiant." He turned her to face him and kissed her, and he was pleased when he felt her kiss him back. "Lie down upon the bed," he gently instructed. "I think it's time that I give your body the attention it deserves." He kissed her again, a thrill coursing through his veins when he heard her moan at the the thought of what he was about to do.

He nudged her towards towards the bed, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it up and off her. She reached back and undid the clasp of her bra, her breasts dropping heavily once she pulled the cups away. He tugged off her loose trousers, letting them fall into a heap at her feet, and when the backs of her legs bumped against the mattress he helped her to move onto it and stretch out, laying against the pillows. He kissed her once more, his hands traveling upwards until they reached her breasts, each filling his hand.

"God Molly-," he groaned, "your breasts, I loved them before … but now..."

He gave them each a tender squeeze before he dropped his mouth to one. She threw her head back into the pillow and moaned loudly when he circled her areola with his tongue before taking her hardened, swollen nipple between his lips.

"Oh fuck Sherlock, you're going to make me come by just doing that!" she whimpered, burying her hands in his hair.

He switched breasts, giving it the same attention, her entire body quivering. He continued to switch back and forth until she was a whimpering mess, her breasts aching pleasantly from his attention.

"It's fascinating how much your breasts have changed," he said softly. "The skin around to your nipples has darkened, and they've become more prominent. Your body is preparing itself to feed our children Molly, it is a beautiful thing." He gave each nipple another tender kiss.

His mouth continued to travel downwards, placing tender kisses across her rounded belly, his nose gently nuzzling at her distended belly button.

"I am in complete awe at the two lives you are carrying inside of you …" he murmured to her, between continuing to places kisses across her belly. "You are incredible, my Molly …"

After shifting more firmly onto his knees, he nudged her legs a bit further apart and was instantly met with the heady scent of her arousal. Oh, she was wet, her knickers were practically drenched. He slipped his thumbs beneath the fabric and tugged them off, slipping them down her legs. She made a soft noise, but continued to lie still, her legs now spread a bit more.

He drank in the sight of her. Her labia had darkened as well, a fact that he was intrigued to discover sent an ache straight through to his cock. Ever so tenderly he massaged her folds with his fingertips, gathering her moisture before he spread them further apart. She whimpered softly, moaning his name, and he could feel that his cock was already weeping pre-cum. Her clit was begging to be taken into his mouth.

"Please Sherlock … oh please!" she moaned.

He glanced up at her, fighting back a smile when he saw that her eyes were tightly squeezed shut and that she was fisting the sheets in anticipation of what he was about to do.

"Please!"

His cock throbbed at the sound of her whimper. He slowly lowered his mouth to her, certain that she would come the moment that his tongue touched her clit.

"AHHH! Yes! Oh Sherlock! Oh!" she cried.

Her legs trembled, her back arching slightly as he sucked and licked at the tender bud. He held onto her hips, keeping her against the mattress so that he could work his mouth on her with ease. The moment he gently slid a single finger into her core she was done for.

She cried out his name, her walls clamping down on his finger. He tenderly suckled her clit, but when she gave his head a gentle push he sat up. She watched him, breathing heavily, while he sucked his finger clean before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at her for a moment, his cock practically pulsing, aching to be buried deep within her. Clearly she had the same desires.

"Please Sherlock … I need you to be inside of me!" she whispered breathlessly.

He smiled and leaned forward to give her a brief kiss, before he slipped off of the bed to undress. His cock was throbbing now. He removed his clothes in record time, flinging them to who knows where in the room. As soon as he was naked he climbed back onto the bed and settled himself between her spread legs. He gave her another kiss before he settled her thighs against his hips. His cock came to rest directly against her wet sex and they both moaned. She rolled her hips, helping the tip of him to slip inside of her.

"Fuck," he growled out.

He entered her fully, and held himself still. The sensation for her was almost overwhelming, she felt hyperaware of every single bit of him inside of her. She knew that she was not going to last long. He gave a shallow thrust and she moaned loudly. Tilting forward, he placed his hands on either side of her and settled into a slow and steady rhythm of deep thrusts.

"Mmmm … that feels … oh fuck Sherlock, your cock feels incredible," she murmured to him.

"Molly, keep talking like that and I'll be coming within a minute!" he grumbled.

She giggled, smoothing her hands down his arms. "I'm not going to last long either."

He brought up his hand and took her taut nipple between his fingers, his stomach brushing against her belly with every thrust. She moaned, feeling the beginning sensations of her orgasm. He switched to her other nipple, hissing out a curse when she reached up to massage the breast he had just been lavishing with attention. He thrust in deep, making sure to not stop until his balls pressed against the globes of her arse.

"That's it," she encouraged. "Give me all of your cock."

"Fuck … Molly!" he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Sherlock … look at me."

He opened his eyes and looked down at her, their gaze meeting.

"I want to see you when you come," she whispered.

He groaned again before briefly kissing her. When he felt the tightening in his lower back, and his cock begin to pulse, he leaned back slightly, angling his hips so that he entered her just as she liked it.

"Mmmm … I'm starting to come Sherlock, oh God … I'm … ohhhh!"

Their eyes locked, and they watched each other come undone. A great shudder coursed through her, a wild cry escaping from between her lips as her walls convulsed around his cock. With one final thrust, he pressed his hips to hers, groaning. She was whimpering his name over and over, her entire body shaking from the force of her orgasm. He slipped out and collapsed down beside her, breathing raggedly.

She couldn't help but giggle, rather enjoying the sight of his flushed face and mussed up sex-hair. He looked at her, and after he took in a few more deep breaths he moved closer to her so that he could take her face in his hands and kiss her deeply.

Once they parted she brushed the tip of her nose against his and said softly, "Thank you, I feel beautiful, loved and deliciously shagged."

He kissed her again.

They lay quietly in the afterglow of their lovemaking, until Sherlock got up to add more wood to the fire. It was providing the only light in the room, casting strange and dancing shadows along the walls.

"What do you think they are going to be like?" Molly asked suddenly.

"Hmmm?" he questioned, rather busy nuzzling at the spot where her neck and ear met.

"Our children," she explained.

He leaned back. "Ahhh…" He returned to his nuzzling. "Hopefully more like you, than me," he mumbled.

She laughed softly. "You do have some good qualities, you know."

"Do I? The last time I checked I couldn't find any."

She reached up and gave his curls a slight tug. "Hush it, you!" She turned her head and gave his lips a quick kiss. "You have far more than you realize."

He adopted an expression of shock before saying, "Really?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, you git."

"Do you possibly have an itemized list? I love those."

"Oh do shut up!" she grumbled.

"Make me."

"I intend to."

They kissed for a time, their legs entwined, his hand smoothing across her belly.

"You're tired," he noted.

"Mmm … absolutely exhausted," she agreed. "Not sure why the drive up here wore me out so much."

"Wellllll … it might not have been just the drive."

"Oh yeah, the shagging probably is mostly to blame." She ended her sentence with a smile. "Help me up, so I can go to the loo?"

Upon returning to the bed a few minutes later, Sherlock tucked the blankets around them both, cocooning them. She pressed herself against him, brushing her nose against his chest.

"Why do you always smell so good?" she questioned.

"I shower," he deadpanned.

She bit down on his nipple.

"OUCH!" he exclaimed.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," she said. "I'm not commenting on the soap you use, it's just you … your smell, your … manly smell. I love it." She breathed in before letting it out slowly.

He moved his hand up her back. "I've always liked the way you smelled too. Essence of Molly. If it could be bottled somehow … I would do it. Although … it wouldn't really be possible to replicate the real thing." He buried his nose in her hair and breathed deep, making her laugh.

She leaned her head back and he kissed her. She hummed against his lips, returning the kiss eagerly. Once they parted she laid her head back down on his chest, lightly tracing her fingertips across his skin.

"Two babies, Sherlock. We're going to have two," she murmured to him.

He shifted slightly, tucking his arm more firmly around her. He could feel the rapid beating of her heart.

"I'm so scared," she whispered. "I really am. And not just of the birth, but everything that follows it. What if there's complications and I can't get up for feedings or-or to hold them and carry them in my arms? What if I end up having postpartum PTSD? What if it's just all too overwhelming and neither one of us can take it? You highly value your quiet Sherlock, I know you do, and now there will be two babies crying at all hours, dependent solely on us and what if we-"

"Shhhh…" He tightened his arms around her, smoothing his hand up and down her back.

She took in a great hiccuping breath, pressing her face into his chest. "I don't know if I can do this Sherlock … I really don't know if I can."

"Molly … Molly look at me."

She slowly raised her head, revealing the tear tracks that lined her cheeks. He reached up, cupping the side 0f her face in his hand and wiped her tears away with his thumb.

"You can do this," he stated firmly. "I know you can. And you won't be alone in this, I will be alongside you every step of the way. But if you really are that concerned, I can always ask Mummy to stay with us. At least for a few days."

Molly sniffled and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. "You'd really do that? I know how she tends to get on your nerves."

"Yes, I would," he replied. "I want you to be comfortable and at ease. I'll happily swallow my pride and ask for help, if it means that it will make you feel better."

Her eyes started to well up with more tears. "Oh God Sherlock, I love you so much!" She kissed him, and he kissed her back, holding her close.

The following morning Molly was stood in the kitchen, facing the window, her half-drunk cup of tea on the table before her. She absentmindedly brushed her hand over her stomach, stroking it through the fabric of her dressing gown, while she continued to stare out the window into the early morning fog.

A quiet yawn behind her broke her from her reverie. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at the sight that greeted her. Sherlock had the sheet wrapped around him, his eyes were only half-open, and his hair was in complete disarray.

"Morning," she murmured to him.

He let out a grunt and stumbled towards her, pressing himself up against the back of her. He gave a satisfied hum, tucking his face into the curve of her neck while he slipped his arms and the sheet around her, placing his hands flat against her rounded belly.

"Not quite awake?" she questioned.

"No," he grumbled.

She laughed softly, reaching back to run her fingers through his curls. He nuzzled her neck, nibbling ever so slightly at her skin.

"Slept well?" he asked between nibbles.

"Mmm … very well. Don't think I even dreamed, at least not that I can remember."

He gave a hum of acknowledgement, slowly moving his hand upward so that he could slip it beneath the fabric of her dressing gown, cupping her breast.

"Ohhh …"

She could feel him smile against her skin. He gently pinched her nipple, rolling it between his fingers. She made another soft noise when he dropped his hand away, only to replace it with his other one, so that he could give her other breast the same attention.

"I thought you weren't quite awake?" she asked, before rolling her bum up against his half-hard length.

He hissed out a breath before he undid the knot of her dressing gown in one swift move. After bringing his hands to her shoulders, he slipped the fabric from her body, it falling to a heap onto the floor, his sheet joining it.

The softest of whimpers escaped her when they at last became skin to skin. She could feel his now fully-hard cock pressed against her bum. She wanted nothing more than to have him deep inside of her, filling her up.

"Lean forward," he instructed, his voice slightly deeper, a bit hoarse. "Place your hands on the table. I want anyone who happens to walk by to see that you are being fucked and that you're enjoying it."

Molly moaned at his words, even though she knew that it was highly unlikely that anyone would be walking by, the thought of it did somewhat turn her on. She did as he asked, spreading her legs open a bit more as she bent forward, her breasts swaying slightly from her movements.

Sherlock placed kisses down the side of her neck and across her shoulder before he reached down between them and took his cock into his hand. He was so hard he was practically throbbing. He nudged the head against her wet heat, gathering up her moisture, coating his length in it. He teased at her clit, watching as her fingers tightened as she tried to grab onto the table.

Not being able to take it any longer, he placed the head at her entrance and in one smooth stroke he entered her, his chest pressed to her back. She gasped, throwing her head against his shoulder. He mouthed at her neck as he slowly began to thrust, holding onto her to help keep her steady. Her breasts bounced with each thrust of his hips. Raising her arm above her head she reached back and held onto him. Sherlock groaned and quickened his pace, bringing his hands up to her breasts, massaging them with his fingers. She was now holding tightly to the edge of the table with one hand, her knuckles turning white, moaning each time that he entered her. When she started to whimper his name he knew that she was close.

Releasing her breasts he placed his palms flat against her stomach, holding her firmly against him so that he could thrust into her in a deep and steady rhythm.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she chanted in time with his movements, and he watched as her breasts bounced and swayed.

Suddenly he felt her blunt fingernails dig into his shoulder. She threw her head back once more, exposing her throat to him while she cried out his name. He pressed kisses to her skin, before letting out a low groan as his balls tightened and his cock pulsed and twitched. He gave one last thrust, burying himself deep within her.

"MOLLY!" he gasped before pressing his face into the curve of her neck. He held her close to him, cradling her body in his arms. She whimpered as his softening cock slipped from her body. She turned her head so that their lips could meet. They shared a tender kiss while he stroked her belly with his fingers.

"I think I need to take you back to bed," he murmured.

"Mmmm… shower first."

He hummed in agreement and led her towards the bathroom.

The rest of their holiday was spent in very much the same manner. Sherlock stayed true to his word, endeavouring to shag her in every room (he succeeded), and Molly managed to convince him to go on walks along the sea shore, but not until he was certain she was bundled up enough. The air was rather bitterly cold, biting at her cheeks and nose and turning them bright red, but Sherlock just used this as an excuse to take her back to bed, in order to "warm her up". She certainly wasn't complaining.

By the end of their stay they were both rather blissfully shagged out. Sherlock had also heard from Mycroft that the nursery was completed, and awaiting their examination. Molly was, to say the least, rather excited. They had both put their heads together and picked out what they each wanted, Sherlock very willingly going along with the bee theme, even if he was rather dismayed at the inaccuracies of the Apis. Unknown to him though, Molly had managed to find a very old print of an anatomical drawing of a bee. She was certain he was going to love it.

As soon as they arrived at Baker Street the first thing that they did was to go see the finished nursery.

"Oh my God … Sherlock … this … this is perfect!" she said softly, tears coming to her eyes.

He only nodded in reply, looking about him in awe. John's old room had been entirely transformed. The walls were painted a warm yellow, there were two cots (identical to the one that was in their bedroom), as well as a wardrobe and a rocking chair. There were bee elements peppered throughout the room, and in spite of their lack of accuracy Sherlock couldn't help but feel rather pleased by the sight. That is until he noticed the print on the wall. He stared at it in surprise.

Molly walked up to him, hooking her arm around his and leaning her head on his shoulder. "Do you like it?" she asked.

He nodded, making a soft, "Mmm."

"You're shocked that I managed to surprise you." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Yes, actually. I am."

She chuckled. "Good. I'm glad that I know I am capable of doing that."

"Oh Molly." He turned to face her. "You have know idea what you are capable of doing to me."

"Oh … really?" She raised an eyebrow in a cheeky manner, rubbing her hand down his arm.

"You-you're not tired from the drive?" he questioned, knowing exactly what the look she was giving him was implying.

She shook her head, rather enjoying the fact that she made him stammer. "No. Not at all. I think I need to do some finding out … of what I'm capable of doing to you."

He swallowed thickly, making a mental note to do further research of hormones and sex drives in pregnant women.

"We can thank Mycroft … later," she said, before grabbing Sherlock's hand and leading him out of the room.

It was now nearing the end of January, and Sherlock and Molly were currently having a full-force row. One that had been going on for some time.

"I am not starting my maternity leave yet Sherlock!" she exclaimed. "It's absolutely ridiculous. I am nowhere near my due date, I am perfectly capable of continuing to work!"

He let out a massive huff, looking more like a petulant child than a grown-man.

"Honestly, you're being ridiculous!" she said to him. "I already stopped doing autopsies, and I only work in the lab when there's nothing dangerous about. I'm spending most of my time instructing interns, why is that so terrible?"

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, realising he had nothing to counter-argue with, which only resulted in making him more annoyed.

"Dr. McCoy is perfectly fine with the schedule I am currently keeping. I'm working less hours, I'm sitting when I need to, and I've been taking the lift. When, and only when he deems it necessary that I stop … then I'll stop."

Sherlock's shoulders sagged. "You really are very stubborn," he muttered.

She laughed softly. "No where near as stubborn as you."

"Humph."

It wasn't until nearly a month later that things went a bit down hill. It all started off with a text.

Sherlock, you need to come to Bart's, NOW. - Mx

His mind started racing the moment he read the message. His fingers fumbled, he was unable to type, so instead he opted to call her, desperate to hear her voice.

"Molly?! What's wrong? What's happened?" he rushed out. "I'm on my way!"

"I'm- I'm fine Sherlock, it's just that I've … I've been admitted," she explained to him.

"WHAT? WHY?"

"Sherlock, please don't shout! I just-I started having contractions … far too early … everything is fine though, they've stopped, please just come as soon as you can and I'll explain further. I really don't want to discuss this over the phone."

She could hear him slowly let out a breath.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," he said. "Five if Mycroft can do something about the traffic."

In spite of how worried she was feeling she couldn't help but laugh. "Please don't do anything rash."

"I'm Sherlock Holmes, everything I do is rash."

"Well … I'm certainly glad to hear that your sarcasm hasn't abated."

"I wouldn't want to disappoint you." His tone softened as he said, "But tell me Molly, truthfully, are you okay? Are the babies okay?"

She felt her heart clench at the concern in his voice. "All three of us are fine Sherlock. Perfectly fine. I just need you here."

"I'll be there soon, very soon."

And he was, far sooner than she expected, and she could only presume that somehow Mycroft had indeed managed to do something about the traffic. Sherlock rushed into her room, his eyes widened in fright, his curls in complete disarray from him having run his fingers through them multiple times on his way there. He hurried over to her, took her face in his hands and gave her a brief but deep kiss as he sat down on the bed.

"You're okay?" he asked.

"Yes. They want to keep me overnight for observation, but I'll be able to go home tomorrow. And … Dr. McCoy has decided that it's best I start my maternity leave now. He explained that due to carrying two babies it is common to go into premature labour, and that it would be best for me to stay at home, and be on semi-bedrest."

"Oh." Sherlock dropped his hand, placing one on her belly, and leaned back slightly.

"Stop looking so smug," she said to him.

"I would, but then I would just look worried."

"Come here," she said softly.

He leaned closer and she kissed him.

"Everything is going to be all right," she said reassuringly.

"Shouldn't I be the one telling you that?" he questioned.

She kissed him again.

It took Molly a little bit of a while to become accustomed to not working and stay at home all day. For the first few days Sherlock refused to leave the flat, far too concerned about her, and not wanting to leave her alone. But by the fourth day Molly announced that he was going to drive her positively batty.

"Take a case Sherlock!" she all but yelled. "I know that your inbox must surely be bursting, or perhaps Greg has something for you. If you stay here with me for one more hour, I may strangle you and make it look like an accident."

His eyes widened, not for one moment doubting what she said. Her pregnancy hormones had been out in full force for some time now.

"I will be perfectly all right," she said to him, her tone softening. "I'm quite comfortable here on the sofa. I've got my laptop, the telly remote, a few books and some healthy snacks, and plenty of water." She quickly added, "And Dr. McCoy assured us both that my getting up and walking to and from the loo is perfectly safe." She ended her sentence with a pointed look, reminding him that he had indeed wanted to carry her whenever she needed to use the toilet.

"Yes well … ahh …" he stammered over his words, something he seemed to be growing a habit of doing. His brow furrowed in annoyance.

"Sherlock … come here."

He stepped towards her and sat down upon the sofa, his hip pressing into hers.

She placed her hand on top of his. "I know you're worried. I'm worried too. This is a frightening experience for both of us, but we'll get through it. You need a distraction Sherlock, you can't stay holed up in here all the time with me, you need to have a run about London, taking down the bad guys."

He sniffed dismissively.

"You're going to drive yourself mad," she continued. "You're going to drive us both mad!" She reached up and gave his curls a slight tug, making him look at her. "I'll be alright for a few hours. Mrs. Hudson is down stairs, and I won't get up unnecessarily. Go out and have a bit of fun, then you can come back and tell me all about it. Okay?"

"Okay."

He kissed her, cradling her face in his hands.

"I love you," he murmured against her lips.

"Love you too."

Molly spent the majority of her blessed time alone napping. It was so blissfully quiet in the flat, and when she had tried to read her eyes kept drooping so she just let it happen and managed to sleep for several hours without waking. This was quite a feat due to the fact that she more often than not would wake either needing to pee or from one of the babies kicking.

When she woke she realized that the sun was nearly setting and that Sherlock had yet to return. She checked her phone for messages and was pleased to find that there weren't any, she could only hope that this meant that he had found a good case to occupy himself with.

After a trip to the bathroom she settled back down onto the sofa and tucked into one of her healthy snacks. Oh how she missed her crisps! She powered up her laptop and began to peruse her emails, before opening up a few of her old Word documents.

"Hmmm … I completely forgot about this!" she muttered to herself as she read over an old paper she had started ages ago.

The sound of the front door opening and closing, and footsteps on the stairs, caught her attention. She looked up from her laptop just as Sherlock entered the flat. He looked exuberant, which could only mean one thing: the case was a 9 and he had solved it.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he strode over to her.

"Perfectly fine," she answered before she offered her mouth for a kiss, which he gladly gave. "I slept most of the day away."

"Oh? That's good! You've been needing more sleep."

"Mmm."

He straightened and removed his Belstaff and scarf, tossing them onto his chair before he sat down beside her and kissed her once more.

"Mmmm… somebody had a very good case!"

He kissed her again before saying, "Yes. I did!"

"Tell me about it?"

"Oh, I intend to, but first, dinner." He checked his watch. "I sent Wiggins to Angelo's, he should be on his way back."

"Did you order me my favourite?" she asked.

"Of course I did!"

"Thank you." This time she kissed him.

The doorbell rang just as she was about to say something.

"That will be Wiggins." Sherlock popped up from the sofa and hurried down the stairs.

Molly powered down her laptop, easing herself to the edge of the sofa. By the time she had got to her feet Sherlock had reentered the flat, carrying a bag of food that smelled positively delicious.

"Eat in the kitchen?" he asked, and she nodded.

They sat down at the table and began to eat.

"Before you start telling me about your case, I want to say something first," she said to him, twirling pasta around her fork.

Sherlock looked at her expectantly.

"I came across one of my old papers, she explained. "It's an unfinished one, and I thought to myself, this is a perfect way for me to keep occupied! There's a still a bit of research I need to do for it, so I wondered if maybe you'd like to help me finish it?"

His answer was a kiss.

A week later Molly had set up a makeshift office upon their bed. She had tried the sofa at first but found that that became uncomfortable after while. She was at this very moment sat upon their bed, propped up by multiple pillows. Her laptop was at her side, a stack of papers and magazines were on the other. She was using her eight-month belly as a form of desk, highlighting and making notes on the paper she held in her hand.

"We're going to have to move," Sherlock suddenly announced as he entered the room, staring blankly ahead of him.

She tore her eyes away from the medical journal she had just picked up. "What? What do you mean?" she asked.

He stepped further into the room, but still didn't look at her. "We need a bigger space. Baker Street isn't possibly large enough to accommodate our growing family." He waved his hands about wildly as he began to pace.

"Sherlock." She could practically see the wheels turning in his brain as he continued to star blankly ahead. "Sherlock!"

He jumped slightly before at last turning to look at her. She reached her hand out to him. He climbed onto the bed and slid over to her, and once he was beside her she cupped his face into her hands.

"Sherlock, our babies haven't even been born yet. Let us just take this one step at a time. Yes, it is very possible that eventually we will need more space, but for the time being the nursery that we have is perfect."

He slowly let out a breath before nodding his head. She gave him a gentle kiss and said quietly, "I can't exactly fathom moving out of here. This has become … home to me. I can't really picture living anywhere else."

Sherlock slipped his arm over her belly before he leaned forward and nuzzled at her jaw line. "I know … it would be … odd."

"Mmmm … who would Sherlock Holmes be without Baker Street?" she questioned.

His nose scrunched in disdain. "The house does not maketh the man," he murmured.

"No. But everyone associates Baker Street with you."

He breathed out against her skin. "They will just have to learn to associate me with somewhere else. Sussex Downs, perhaps."

"Sussex Downs? Are you running a temperature?" She turned her head to look at him.

"No," he answered.

"What on earth would you do in Sussex Downs? You'd go mad with boredom!"

He shrugged. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I was thinking that I'd keep bees."

She blinked at him. "Are you considering early retirement?"

He shrugged again, settling his hand onto her hip. "Everything is different now, Molly." He placed his hand onto her belly and began to move it in soothing circles. He smiled when he felt one of the babies kick. "Our lives are about to drastically change. Not just in one way, but in two," he noted.

She put her hand on his arm. "What are you saying Sherlock?"

He slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. "I'm saying that I think I should stop associating myself with the criminal classes."

She moved her hands to his shirt front, fiddling with the buttons. "I haven't asked you to do this."

"I know. I know you haven't. I've made this decision myself."

She smoothed her fingers over his shirt. "What brought all this about?"

"You. And our unborn children. I want them and I want you to live in a safe environment. I don't want to have to worry about someone trying to hurt the ones I love just because I got in their way, and put an end to their dastardly plan."

She leaned forward, pressing her face into his shirt. "But Sherlock, you've done so much for this country, you've saved so many lives, have helped so many people. Are you really willing to just … put an end to all that? Will Mycroft even allow it?"

Sherlock let out a snort of derision. "My brother is the biggest sentimental git you will ever meet."

"Sherlock!"

"No. I won't take it back, it's true. He will allow me to do whatever I choose, especially if I explain to him my reasonings. And besides, he doesn't control me. Not in the slightest."

It was Molly's turn to let out a snort. "He sort of does Sherlock."

For that she received a none-too-tender nip to the neck, which only resulted in making her shriek with laughter.

"How about-" she said, once her laughter had abated. "How about we wait until after our babies are born, give or take a few months, a year even, and we'll see how you feel?" she said to him, leaning back so that their eyes could meet.

He sighed. "You're worried that I'll grow bored, aren't you? That I'll be unhappy? That I will come to resent you and the twins? That's it, isn't it? That's your greatest fear?"

She nodded, dropping her gaze.

"Oh Molly, and here I thought you knew me better than anyone else. Better than I knew myself!"

Her eyes flew up to meet his, her heart was fluttering, but she was instantly put at ease when she saw that he was smiling.

"Don't you know?" he questioned, cupping her face tenderly in his hands. "Don't you know that you are enough? That you make me so inexplicably happy?"

She kissed him, and he deepened the kiss, cradling the back of her head in his hand.

"That and of course the never-ending supply of body parts you bring home," he said when their kiss ended. "OW!" He pulled back from her, rubbing the top of his head where she had given his curls a tug.

"Body parts, huh?" she asked, smirking slightly.

"Yes," he said with a leer. "Very particular body parts!" He smoothed his hand down her stomach, not stopping until he cupped the space between her legs.

"You're a tit," she said to him.

"Ohhh … those are one of the particular ones!"

She rolled her eyes but allowed him to kiss her. After a rather vigorous snog, they both parted for breath a few minutes later. Sherlock laid his head onto her belly, murmuring scientific equations to their babies.

"So Sussex Downs huh?" she questioned suddenly.

"Mmm…" he replied, brushing his nose against her belly.

"You wouldn't happen to be thinking of any place in particular would you?"

He stopped what he was doing and peered up at her. "Possibly."

She smiled. "It's that cottage we stayed at for Christmas, isn't it?"

"Welll…"

"Don't deny it."

He huffed out a breath. "Yes."

She giggled.

"It's in the perfect spot, remote, yet close to the sea, but not too close as to be considered dangerous for our children. There's plenty of room for bee hives, and also plenty of room for if we extend our family beyond the two."

Molly smiled. "Oh? You want more already, when our twins haven't even been born yet?"

"Well, I was thinking six or seven."

"Six or seven?" she exclaimed. "You mad man!"

He sighed. "Yes, I have been called that before."

She laughed. "Come here you silly."

He moved up her body, placing his hands on either side of her.

"I love you," she whispered before she kissed him.

He kissed her back, then pulled away for a moment in order to ask, "Does this mean you agree to having five more?"

"SHERLOCK!"

It was down to the final stretch now and Molly was counting the days. She could barely move without some part of her body aching, she slept terribly and her back was constantly feeling so sore that she repeatedly had to use a heating pad. Sherlock tried his best to keep her comfortable, but for the most part it was beyond his ability.

His parents were staying in London, not wanting to risk missing the birth of their first grandchildren. Mycroft had already been coerced several times into going to shows with them, due to the fact that Sherlock couldn't possibly leave his pregnant wife. ("You owe me, brother mine.")

They were having a quiet night in, most likely one of the last, seeing as her due date was the next day. Sherlock had lit a fire, seeing as it was still rather chilly out, and put on one of Molly's favourite films. She was sat on the sofa, surrounded by pillows to try and make her as comfortable as possible, while she ate a bowl of strawberry ice cream.

After adding another log to the fire he sat down beside her, tucking his arm around her shoulders before taking the spoonful of ice cream she offered him.

"Sherlock … could you pause the movie?"

He did as she asked. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

She handed him her empty bowl. He took it and placed it on the coffee table.

"No, nothing is wrong. I've just been thinking."

"Oh?"

She smoothed her hands across her very-rounded belly. "I'm not sure if I'm going to want to go back to work or not."

He visibly relaxed.

"What did you think I was going to say?" she asked.

"I honestly didn't know, that's what had me so worried."

She rolled her eyes. "It's just … I don't know if I am going to be able to bring myself to leave them," she said, peering down at her belly.

"You can do whatever you like Molly. If you want to stay at home with them, then stay at home. I'll support you no matter what."

She looked at him and smiled. "I had hoped you'd say that." She kissed him, her lips tasting like strawberries.

It was the middle of the night when she woke. Something felt very different. She started to count in her head, breathing as slowly and as quietly as possible, just as Sherlock had taught her. Said Sherlock was fast asleep beside her. She was glad of this, wanting at least a few quiet moments to be able to gather her thoughts and attempt to calm her mind, while she tried to wrap her brain around what was about to happen. When the contractions suddenly began to intensify she reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

"Wha-what is it?" he questioned, sitting up.

"It's time," she said to him, her emotions getting the better of her, her eyes filling with tears. "Our babies are on their way!"

He exhaled a shaky breath then leaned forward and kissed her. "Stay right there, I'll gather your things and call for the car." He jumped up from the bed, rushing about to pull on some clothes.

Just as he was about to leave their bedroom she called out to him, "Don't forget to phone your parents!"

"Yes. Don't worry I will," he answered.

When he returned a few minutes later, her contractions were getting worse.

"Ahhh, oh my God, this is so fucking painful!" she cried out.

He slowly helped her to stand, smoothing his hand up and down her back.

"And it's only going to get worse!" she moaned.

"Shhh …," he murmured before he pressed a kiss to the top of her. "You can do this Molly. I know you can."

They very slowly made their way out of the flat and down the stairs. Mrs. Hudson was stood in her doorway, watching them with a wide smile upon her face.

"You're going to be fine Molly!" she said encouragingly. "You take care of her Sherlock! Don't you dare leave her side!"

"I don't intend to Mrs. Hudson," he said.

She gave a small cry, holding a handkerchief to her face.

Sherlock helped Molly into the car, settling her against a pillow he had brought with them.

"Oh God," she groaned. "Here comes another one!"

He quickly sat down beside her, taking her hand in his which she squeezed tightly.

"AHHH!"

"Breathe Molly, just breathe!"

They made it to Bart's in record time, all thanks to one of Mycroft's most skilled drivers. As soon as they entered the hospital they were rushed to a birthing room, which had been ready and waiting for them. Marian and Siger arrived just after they did, followed by John and Mary, and Mycroft and Anthea. They were brought to a waiting room, and wait they did. For several hours. And several more hours. A nurse from time to time came to give them updates, but for the most part, they waited. And waited.

Until at long last the nurse returned and announced that the babies had been born. They were healthy, and doing well, as was Molly. The nurse also made certain to note that Sherlock had behaved, staying by Molly's side the entire time, giving her words of encouragement, even while she screamed and cursed at him for putting her in this state. The nurse than further explained that they were giving the new family a little time to themselves, before allowing the rest of the family to go and see the newborns.

Marian could barely contain herself when she entered the room and saw her two grandchildren for the first time. Even Siger had tears in his eyes as he held the little girl. Mary and John both told Sherlock how proud they were of him, but he ignored them though, far too enthralled by the two new little lives. Mycroft was a bit flummoxed at first, especially when Molly offered for him to hold his nephew. He was a bit stiff for the first few moments, then gradually relaxed, even moreso when he looked over at Anthea who was holding their niece. None of them stayed for very long though, knowing that the new parents were tired, and that there would be plenty of time later to coo and aww over the babies.

Now that that were alone Sherlock was once more sat upon the bed beside a very worn-out, but happy and contented Molly.

"He's going to look just like you," she said softly, lightly tracing the tip of her finger across their sleeping son's features.

Sherlock let out a dismissive sniff. "She has your nose, and your chin," he declared in a muted, but matter-of-fact tone as he stared down at their daughter asleep in his arms.

She chuckled. "I suppose we'll eventually have to come up with a good story of how we fell in love."

"Do parents really do that?" he scoffed.

"Yeah, most of them, I know my parents did. I would always ask my dad to tell me the story of how he and my mum fell in love."

Sherlock grew thoughtful. "Hmmm."

"I suppose…," she paused briefly and looked up at him.

He met her gaze and she smiled when he gave her a tender kiss.

"I suppose …," she continued but paused again, returning her gaze to their son, "that we can tell them that … it all started with a facial …"

THE END … ish …

.

.

.

*commence ugly sobbing*

I know, I know, you're probably screaming right now: "What?! WHAT?! That's how she ends it?"

Heh … err… yeah, that's how I'm ending it. It's been a long time coming, I mean … I've been working on this fic since October 2014 … 2014! I can't believe it. And honestly, I had originally plotted it out to be only 17 chapters, not 50! Phew.

I've really enjoyed writing this fic, I've put a lot of time, effort and tears into it. And I am so soooooo grateful for every single one of my readers. I'm sure I've lost a few along the way due to major gaps between updates, but for those who have stuck with me, thank you, THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Also … you might have noticed the "ish" … hehe, that's there because I'm planning to continue this story in one-shots. I don't have any fully plotted out, but I do have some ideas rolling around!

Once again, thank you so much everyone for reading, commenting, and giving kudos. I love you all, SHERLOLLIANS ARE LOVE!

Now excuse me while I go sit in a corner and drown in feels.