"Are you sure we can trust Sherlock for a night to look after Charlotte? I mean, the man is a genius, but being responsible to look after a child-" John whispered worriedly before being interrupted by his wife. He glanced up at the window where Sherlock was holding a sleeping Charlotte awkwardly. John and Mary have been planning for their first date night after the birth of Charlotte. The couple had booked a babysitter, but unfortunately she had family matter of sorts and could not make it. Too late to cancel, Mrs. Hudson volunteered Sherlock to look after Charlotte.
"John, stop worrying so much. I'm sure Sherlock will be fine. We showed him everything there is to know and I'm sure he stored that knowledge safely in that mind palace of his. Now let's go or we'll miss our cab." Mary whispered back as she hooked her arm with John's before pulling him into a cab. They waved to the detective and their daughter as the cab drove further and further away from Baker Street.
"Alright. I am really hoping to upload more articles on my website while they are gone. So lay there and don't bother me." Sherlock mumbled to Charlotte as he carefully, but quickly laid her down on her favorite blanket on the couch. He sat down at his desk and began typing his deductions until he heard Charlotte begin to stir awake. He continued to type, but quieter now, hoping she wouldn't wake up yet. Sherlock sighed as he knew he had to do something when he heard her cry. He stood up and picked her up gently as he rocked her back and forth hoping she would fall back asleep. One hour passed with no sign that Charlotte would stop crying. Then two. When Sherlock went into the third hour of rocking the child back and forth with her constant wailing close to his ears, he finally caved into the temptation to ask for help. "The great Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective with an international reputation and yet, it's a 6 month old that will be the death of me," he grumbled, swaying back and forth rhythmically in a desperate attempt to calm down her cries.
I need you to come to 221B right away.
SH
Oh my god, is something wrong? Is someone hurt? What happened? xxx
He turned off his phone knowing that if he didn't respond, Molly would arrive quicker. Human error. Five minutes later Molly ran up the stairs to see Sherlock beginning to panic.
"Sherlock! Why...did you...text me?" She was breathing heavily by the time she reached the top step, having already ignored Mrs. Hudson's shouts after her as she climbed the stairs at the speed of light.
"Because the godmother should know how to calm this baby down." Sherlock had found his eerily calm tone once again. Now that Molly was here, he'd found his composure again and was back to his arrogant ways. "She has been crying for three hours now. Take care of her." He waved his hand at the baby before sitting down behind his laptop. Molly walked over and hit Sherlock in the shoulder hard with her purse.
"Sherlock," she said, her voice carrying out just how cross she was. "I was in a middle of a date and why can't the godfather do it?" She grumbled as she put down her purse to pick up Charlotte. She rocked her gently as she paced around the room.
"A date that clearly wasn't going well. And I can't do it because...I don't know how to take care of a baby," he confidently said, but not without mumbling the last part.
"The date was going wonderful actually. We are having a second date soon." Molly replied as she laid Charlotte down to change her nappy. She turned her back to Sherlock hoping he wouldn't catch the lie.
"You know better than to lie to me, Molly. You ran, but you aren't sweating yet which means it was a short distance. The nearest restaurant is Angelo's, but you don't have the same light smell of fried oil to your clothes, and it's too far for you to run all the way here in your heels and not to break a sweat. Your lipstick is hardly faded which means you barely ate. There is no mint or fortune cookie in your hand so I'm guessing you just wanted to get away from him as soon as possible using my text as your excuse. Now. Do you really think a girl would enjoy a date like that?"
Molly stayed silent as she finished up cleaning the now quiet Charlotte. Without as much as a glance towards Sherlock, she picked up Mary's notes for Sherlock went into the kitchen to warm up some formula. "I'm right aren't I? So what was wrong with this one?" Sherlock grins smugly as he walks into the kitchen, switching on the kettle. Molly sighs as she shakes the bottle and picks up Charlotte to feed her.
"So many things. Out of all the terrible blind dates I've been on, I think this is the worst."
"You said that about the last one," Sherlock chuckles as he puts down a cup of tea beside Molly, surprising her.
"Yeah well this one beats him. He shows up an hour late, and after telling me that we are going to a nice restaurant he takes me to a food truck down the street-"
"Oh that's where you went. I forgot he works on the corner park tonight. That one is actually quite nice. John and I go there when it's late and we don't want to bother Mrs. Hudson to prepare dinner."
"I know the food was good I just mean, I'm wearing a formal dress in the street eating at a food truck. Anyway, he is everything I hate. Talks loud, talks with his mouth full, rude, self centered, and he doesn't know what he is talking about." She sighs again as she take a sip of tea after she sits in John's old chair across from Sherlock.
"Molly, you basically described me. But then again, I did warn you that you had a type." He smirks as he takes a sip of tea.
"No, he was the worst. He was trying to convince me to quit my job and to stay in the kitchen where I belong, apparently." She rolled her eyes as she watched Charlotte. Molly felt her frown disappear when Charlotte smiled up at her.
A couple of hours later, Molly was able to put Charlotte to sleep. She carefully laid her down in her crib and pulled the blanket over her. Molly grabbed her purse and her coat about to leave when Sherlock grabbed her wrist gently and pull back. "Don't go yet." He pressed his lips together for a second hesitating, "Um what if she wakes up again? Mrs. Hudson wouldn't like that much."
"Yeah, all right. Do you have something I could borrow though? This dress is a bit uncomfortable." Molly flushed as she pulled the hem of the dress down a bit, fiddling with it self-consciously.
Sherlock goes back into his closet and pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a jumper. He didn't even know he had them, but there wasn't really a point to remembering them until now, was there? He walked back to the lounge and handed them to Molly who took them sheepishly, muttering her thanks before disappearing into the toilets to change. She sat her purse on John's old chair, her dress carefully folded over it. Peering over at Charlotte in her crib, she heads over to Sherlock who is sat on the sofa watching Doctor Who. She sits down with a bit of a large gap between her and Sherlock, but she smiles to herself a bit as he moves closer to her.
Episode after episode, the night drifted by slowly until both of them fell asleep. John and Mary come back early the next morning to the two laying in each other's arms, deep asleep, Molly's head cradled in the crook of Sherlock's neck, his tall and slender form curved around her's protectively. Smiling at the sight of them, Mary goes to the crib and picks up Charlotte quietly as John packs up her belongings. They quietly leave the flat before strapping Charlotte into the car and heading back to their home.
"I didn't know Molly was helping Sherlock," Mary whispered, mindful that Charlotte was still sleeping in the back of the car. "Or that they were dating," she added, raising her eyebrows at her husband after glancing at her daughter in the back. "Well, neither did I. I mean it's Sherlock, not even I know what goes on in the funny mind of his." Glancing at Mary with a soft smile he says, "I think it'll be good for him, Molly is generally the only person Sherlock is genuinely afraid of sometimes," he laughs.
