written as a birthday gift to my friend Kirsty on Twitter kb_wholocked.

Mary had dropped off Rosie with Molly before heading to the surgery with John. The little Watson was already over a year old and one of the happiest toddlers Molly had ever seen.

"What should we do today, Rosie?" Molly asked as she rolled the ball back and forth with her goddaughter on the floor.

"Pway!" she exclaimed.

"Then what should we play?" Molly continued. Rosie's forehead wrinkled as she thought about it when Molly's cellphone pinged.

Watching Rosamund? SH

Yep. Why? Did you need something? MH

No. Just thought I'd pop over. SH

You're outside the door aren't you? MH

Maybe. SH

You cheeky bugger! You have a key, just let yourself in. MH

He walked in as soon as Molly told Rosie, "Your Uncle Sherlock's here to play with us." Their goddaughter clapped her hands excitedly and stood, a bit wobbly on her legs, and ran toward him with her arms outstretched.

"Unca Sherwock!" Rosie beamed. Molly watched with a warmth in her heart as Sherlock lifted their goddaughter in his arms and pressed a kiss into her blonde curls. He reached into his Belstaff with his free hand and retrieved a small bumblebee plushy, handing it to her. She hugged it to her chest with a big smile on her face. "Fank you!" When he set her down, she ran back over to Molly.

"Aunt Mowwy, wook!" she smiled.

"I see! That was very nice of Uncle Sherlock, wasn't it?" Molly asked, her eyes meeting his.

"Well, I saw it and thought she might like it," he explained.

"So, since you're here," she began, "I was thinking of taking Rosie to the park."

"You don't need me here to take her," Sherlock stated.

"No, I know, it's just that I feel safer when you're with us," Molly elaborated. "You know, if God forbid anything happened." He wasn't sure how to respond to such an admittance.

"You feel…safe with me?" he asked.

"Well, of course I do," Molly told him. The fuzzy feeling growing in his heart couldn't be fought off. He had been having a lot of fuzzy feelings lately ever since Rosie was born. They especially centered around his pathologist.

"Park, pwease!" Rosie clapped. "Pwease, Aunt Mowwy? Unca Sherwock?"

"Yeah, please, Uncle Sherlock?" Molly asked. They were both giving their best puppy dog pouts. He hated it no matter how adorable it was. Nothing got him to give in except for the looks on their faces.

"Oh, alright," Sherlock conceded.

Sherlock seated himself on the bench as he watched Molly play tag with Rosie. He smirked to himself when Molly let out an exaggerated, "Oh no! You got me!" She then whispered something in the one year old's ear that lit up her face. They walked over to the bench and Molly sat down placing Rosie between them.

"Finished with your game?" Sherlock asked.

"Nope," Molly replied, popping the 'p.' She touched his shoulder more gently than she had meant to do and their eyes locked. The moment was broken as she shouted, "Tag, you're it!" and ran off. He helped Rosie off of the bench.

"Come on, Rosamund, the game is on!" he exclaimed. The two of them advanced on Molly who was cheekily waiting by before running off again.

"Wow, Aunt Mowwy's fast," Rosie mused with wonderment. The little Watson looked on as Sherlock managed to take hold of Molly's arm, knocking her off balance and the two of them toppled to the ground.

"Hi," Molly smiled sweetly, looking down at him.

"Hello," he returned in his rich baritone voice. Sherlock's eyes flicked to her lips. They looked soft and welcoming to him. He often wondered how they would feel against his. If he could just raise his head up off the ground enough to reach. Loud giggles interrupted the moment they were having as Rosie leapt on top of them.

"Unca Sherwock got you," she remarked happily.

"Yes he does," Molly spoke softly, unaware that she had used the present tense. It did not go undetected by Sherlock and his heart skipped a beat. And what was that fluttery feeling in his stomach? Rosie slid off of them and onto the ground, allowing Molly to finally get up and offer a hand to Sherlock. The consulting detective felt a little too warm as he grasped her hand. He might as well have been set on fire.

"Why don't we get you an ice lolly?" he suggested to Rosie. He had to cool down somehow.

They sat in a booth at the ice cream shoppe where Rosie was enjoying her cherry flavored treat. Sherlock had already finished his as he was in a hurry to get a hold of himself.

"You alright?" Molly asked.

"Yes," Sherlock spoke a little quickly. "I'm fine, why shouldn't I be?" She was taken aback by his current state.

"Well, you just seem a little flustered," she pointed out. "Maybe anxious even." He offered up no reply. She lowered her voice. "Are you having nightmares again? About Sherrinford?"

"No, I mean yes, but that's not—" he trailed off. Rosie finally finished off her ice lolly and Molly took a napkin to wipe up the sticky substance from her dimpled hands. She then took the napkin to the corner of Rosie's mouth.

"All cleaned up," Molly smiled. "Ready to go?" She looked at Sherlock then and he nodded in confirmation before they left for her flat.

Rosie fell asleep between her godparents on the sofa not long after they made it back.

"Thank you for coming with us," Molly told him. "She absolutely adores you."

"It was no problem at all," he replied, waving his hand nonchalantly. "I enjoy spending time with Rosamund." Silence stretched out for a moment or two. "And you." He was rewarded with her soft smile. "I think I'd like one."

"One what?" Molly laughed.

"A child of my own," Sherlock answered in all seriousness. Molly was surprised to say the least. "I'd like one with you." Now she had to do a double take.

"Me?" she asked in wonderment. "Sherlock, I'm flattered, but—"

"You don't want one," he finished, his face falling.

"Hey, don't be sad," she comforted him, cupping his cheek. "Of course I want one, but it might be best if you at least bought me dinner first."

"I mucked this whole thing up, didn't I?" Sherlock chuckled. "I didn't mean right now; I just meant eventually. Molly, you have to know I meant it. I love you."

"I know. I have known. I was just waiting for you to be ready," Molly admitted. "I love you too. But you already knew that, didn't you?" She leaned in, careful of Rosie between them, and he met her halfway, pressing his lips to hers. Sherlock didn't want to fight it anymore. He happily welcomed her love into his heart; the very one she stole the day they met.