Holmes' Book Of One Shots

Positive (Sherlolly)

            Molly stared down at the stick of plastic she held, and tried to calm herself. She was excited, nervous, and scared for what Sherlock would think. Of course, Sherlock knew she had taken the pregnancy test – he was the one who suggested she take one – although she wasn’t sure how he was feeling. Her husband was good at concealing his emotions, but Molly could usually see through his façade. She closed her eyes, and recalled their conversation.

           

            She had been sick that morning, after eating six pancakes; she usually only ate three. Sherlock held her hair back as she vomited, and kissed her on the forehead when he believed she was through. After she cleaned up, Sherlock led her to the sofa and let her lay down. She closed her eyes, tired. He threw a blanket over her and sat down in his chair, his hands steepled in front of his mouth.

            After ten minutes, Molly said, “Sherlock, what’s wrong?”

            “Hm?” Sherlock hummed.

            Molly opened her eyes. “You’re acting really weird. What’s the matter?”

            He didn’t respond, but after a few minutes he said, “You’re late.”

            Molly furrowed her brows. “Sorry?”

            “You’re late.” He repeated.

            “To what?” Molly asked.

            Sherlock shook his head. “Your menstrual cycle, Molly. You’re a week and a half late.”

            “That does happen sometimes, Sherlock. It’s not really a big deal.” Molly closed her eyes again.

            “You became sick this morning.” He added.

            Molly said, “Yeah, that happens sometimes when you’re human.”

            “Your temperament has changed.”

            “Sherlock–”

            “You ate double the amount of pancakes you usually eat this morning.”

            “Sherlock. What are you trying to say?”

            Silence. Sherlock said nothing. After a few minutes, Molly decided that Sherlock wasn’t going to say anything, so she attempted to sleep. She was just beginning to drift off to sleep when Sherlock spoke again.

            “I think you should take a pregnancy test.”

            Her eyes flew open and she sat up. “What?!”

            “I think you should take a pregnancy test.” He repeated.

            Molly shook her head. “Sherlock. I’m not pregnant. That’s impossible.”

            “How is it impossible?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

            “It just is.”

            “Please, Molly.” Sherlock said. “Just take one.”

            She stared at him for several minutes, and then gave up. “Fine, Sherlock. I’ll take a pregnancy test.”

            Since she had felt sick that day, she hadn’t reacted much. What would Sherlock know about pregnancy? He had, of course, predicted Mary’s pregnancy, but Molly was sure she wasn’t pregnant. And she didn’t want to be pregnant if it made Sherlock unhappy. She wanted children, yes, but she wanted her husband to agree with starting a family. She was unsure of Sherlock’s thoughts on having a child together, and she was nervous to find out.

            A few days later, Molly had come to Baker Street after work and noticed the box on the kitchen countertop.  Sherlock stood next to it.

            “I went out and got one this morning.” Sherlock said. He picked up the box with the pregnancy test in it, and held it out to Molly. “Might as well do it now.”

            She held out her hand and took the box. After one last look at Sherlock’s expression, in an attempt to decipher his feelings towards their current situation, she left for the bathroom.

            Ten minutes later, she stared down at the two lines on the pregnancy test and found herself smiling. Her life was about to change, and she couldn’t wait to start this next stage of her life.

            But how would Sherlock feel?

            They had never talked about it before, and Molly wasn’t brave enough to try and slip it into their conversations. She didn’t think he would have an interest in children, babies in particular. Whenever she and Sherlock babysat John and Mary’s baby, Molly did most of the work, and Sherlock observed her from afar or entered his mind palace until the baby’s parents returned.

            The only child he had ever shown any interest in was Archie, who sometimes came over as well. Of course, Sherlock showed him photographs from crime scenes, which Archie seemed to really enjoy. That was most likely the reason Sherlock was so friendly with him.

            Would Sherlock have any interest in their child?

            Molly frowned, and stood up from her spot on the bathroom floor. She took a breath, and then put her free hand on the doorknob, twisting it. Her steps into the sitting room were light, and Sherlock immediately stood up from his chair when he heard her. He walked over to her, and looked down, his blue eyes questioning.

            She nodded.

            He wrapped his arms around her.

            She hugged him back, smiling as his lips came into contact with her forehead, and she knew he was happy. She buried her face in his chest.

            “I love you.” Molly said.

            Sherlock nodded. “And I, you, Molly Hooper.”