Only Yours

12 part 1

Molly's P.O.V

'Come on Molly!' Robbie Williams is holding out his hand for me to take and I gladly hold on as he pulls me onto the stage, where the rest of Take That are clapping along to the beginning bars of 'The flood'. 'Sing, Molly, sing!' the audience call out to me and I open my mouth, expecting the words to 'The flood' to come out in sweet, pure tones. But instead... I start beeping.

I gasp and sit upright in bed, looking around for the source of the noise. It is dark outside, and considering it is August it must be very early. As I pick up the phone I check the time; half past two. I consider not picking up until I see who it is.

Sherlock.

My heart starts pounding and I find myself sweeping a stray strand of hair away from my face. Sherlock prefers it like that. I feel guilty as I remember John, but I can't help it. Sherlock just makes me feel like that. I cough to clear my voice and answer as if it's perfectly normal to be woken up at half past two in the morning.

'Hey, Sherlock. What's up?' I wait for an answer but all I can hear is heavy breathing and some sort of screaming noise in the background. 'Sherlock, are you ok?' I am beginning to get worried.

'Oh, hello Molly. I require your assistance immediatly. I have a slight problem over here.' He sounds perfectly calm but the screaming is getting louder. 'Sherlock, are you ok?' I repeat, already standing up.

'Can you come to Baker Street?' I debate saying no. It is half past two, he didn't say please and that screaming is genuinely awful. 'Molly? I need you.' His voice cracks and I am at the door in an instant. Something is very wrong.

'Of course, I'll be there as fast as I can.'

///////////////FIFTEENMINUTESLATER///////////////

The front door is wide open, and so is the door to Sherlock and John's apartment. I can hear that shrieking noise again and randomly wonder if Sherlock created some sort of animal hybrid that attacked John and then started running rampage around the flat.

What I see surprises me more.

Sherlock is sitting upright on the sofa, completely still and quiet. John is nowhere to be seen and sitting on the table is a... baby's car seat? I walk cautiously over to it, not really sure what to expect.

I definitely didn't expect to see a baby.

My first guess would be that it is a boy, but it is almost too beautiful to be male.

The child is pale. Not as pale as Sherlock but still quite pale. It has a pale face and big eyes and it looks almost exactly like Sherlock.

It has a mop of black curls and those intense blue eyes. It has a longish face and quite a serious expression. It stops wailing for a second to look up at me before setting into a fresh round of screaming.

'Ah, Molly.' Sherlock looks at me for the first time. 'I should probably introduce you. Molly, William. William, Molly.' He pauses and looks at the baby. 'Should he reply?' he asks with a perfectly straight face. 'No... i mean, i don't think so. How old is he?' I am in total shock as I stare at the baby. Sherlock glances at a piece of paper next to him. 'What's the date?'

'The 29- no, wait, the 30th.'

'Of August?' how can you not know which month it is? 'Yes.' He nods. 'Two weeks old.'

'Two wee-Two weeks? Is he... yours?' Sherlock gives a brief nod before standing up and taking my hands, looking into my eyes. I feel slightly uncomfortable but at the same time... excited. He leans forward, opening his mouth to speak. Then I realise that my heart is racing and he can probably feel it. How embarrassing. 'Um, where's John?' I step backwards and smooth down my hair.