A/N: Thank you so much to all of my readers, you are the best!

Molly was at her father's house for a week before she realized she had missed her monthly cycle. She knew exactly what it meant. What she didn't know was what to tell Sherlock.

Mary came to visit her the next day. The first thing the other woman did was go into a quarter-hour rant about the failings of men in general and Sherlock in particular.

Molly interrupted her mid-sentence. "Yes, Mary, I know my husband is a fool, but he's also about to be a father. What on Earth do I tell him?"

Her friend stared at her then broke into a wide, delighted grin. "You're pregnant?! This is wonderful! Now he'll have to get his head out of his arse."

"Mary!" Molly couldn't help giggling. "This is serious. Sherlock doesn't want a child, he's said that repeatedly. What do I tell him now that there is one on the way?"

"Tell him to be a man and do his duty."

"No, no, that's the last thing I should do. I want him to be a father because he wants to, not because he has to." She sighed heavily.

Mary reached over to pat her hand sympathetically. "John is with him now. Hopefully, my husband can talk some sense into yours."

The next day, Molly was in the morgue, examining the body of a dead prostitute, when her husband and Mary's came in. Sherlock had been saying something but stopped mid-sentence when he saw her.

Molly smiled happily at John. "Good afternoon, John." Her smile faded when she turned to Sherlock. "Mr. Holmes."

John tipped his hat to her, smiling. "Hello, Molly." He glanced at her stomach and Molly knew Mary must have told him.

Sherlock didn't notice John's actions, he was too busy staring at her. "Dr. Holmes … Molly-"

"Yes?" she asked, more than a little impatient.

"I … er … may we speak?" He glanced at John and the corpse. "In private?"

"I'm sure anything you want to say to me can be said in front of John and the late Miss Nichols."

"I very much doubt that." Sherlock glanced around the morgue then took her upper arm and practically dragged her into her miniscule office. As soon as the door was shut and locked, he had his arms around her and was kissing her passionately.

Molly quickly pulled out of his embrace. "Sherlock, stop!"

"No," he said firmly as he took her in his arms again. Molly tried to push him away but he wouldn't budge. "Not until I've had my say." Sherlock sighed heavily. "I love you, Molly. This time apart has been excruciating. I ache for you more now than I ever did when we were engaged."

She glared at him. "If all you want is a willing partner then I'm sure one of Miss Nichols' cohorts will satisfy you."

"I want more than just a willing partner. I want the woman I gave my heart to, the woman who makes me feel like I can do anything, the woman-"

"The woman who is carrying your child," Molly said, raising an eyebrow.

Sherlock stared at her, his face paling. "You're … you're expecting?"

"Yes, Sherlock," she said evenly.

He suddenly let go of her. "I must go…" He moved to leave but she grabbed his wrist.

"We have to talk about this," Molly said firmly.

"Later, I need… Later." He yanked his arm away then left her office and the morgue as fast as he could.

For the first time in her life, Molly started to cry at her place of employment.

The next day, Molly sat alone in her father's sitting room, an open book on her lap but she had long given up trying to read it. All she could think of was Sherlock's face when she told him they were going to have a baby.

He looked like his worst nightmare had come true. God, what am I going to do now? I can't have this baby without him. The baby needs a father. I need my husband. Molly buried her face in her hands and wept.

"Molly?" came Sherlock's voice from the doorway. Before she had time to look up, his hands were on her shoulders.

She looked up to see him kneeling in front of her, sporting a worried look and an impressive black eye. "Who hit you?" she asked softly, worried herself.

Sherlock smiled a bit. "Watson, but never mind about me. Are you alright? Did something happen to the baby?"

"No, the baby's fine … I was missing you." She paused. "What do you mean John hit you?"

He chuckled. "He was trying to get me to 'be a man,' and made his position quite clear." Sherlock cleared his throat nervously. "Molly … I have treated you abominably. It was not fair of me to try to impose my view of having children onto you."

"Just tell me why," she implored. Molly took his hands in hers. "It's fear, isn't it? You would have told me if it were anything else."

Sherlock sighed quietly. "Yes, it's fear. Fear of losing you, the baby, or even both of you in childbirth."

"Oh, darling…" She reached up to lay a hand on his cheek. "The chance of losing one or both of us exists, yes, but the chances are so small nowadays, it's worth the risk."

"That is just what the Watsons told me," Sherlock said, bringing a hand up to cover hers. "You, Molly, have come to mean so much to me in such a short amount of time. Just the thought of losing you was enough to chill me to the bone." He closed his eyes, sighing again. "It was wrong of me to push you away. I was such a fool! I should have done better." He opened his eyes. "I promise I will do better, Molly. I cannot lose you again!"

"Oh, Sherlock," she said, smiling at him lovingly, "you never lost me. You can push me away a hundred times and I will always, always come back."

Sherlock beamed at her. "I am never pushing you away again."

She took a deep breath. "What about the baby?"

He lightly laid a hand over her stomach. "I promise here and now to always love our child, just as much as I love you." He grinned. "And perhaps we can talk about having a few more after this one?"

Molly laughed softly. "I love you, Sherlock Holmes."

"And I love you, Molly Holmes." He looked down at her stomach. "And you, Baby Holmes."