Molly stood in the small bathroom of her flat, staring down at the pregnancy test in her hand. It was clearly positive, and she was clearly terrified. She threw it in the garbage, and pulled a second one out of the box, dipping it into the specimen cup of urine she'd collected.

Three minutes, another positive test. She growled and threw it away as well, then got into the shower, her tears washed away by the water as she stood in the hot spray, her mind spinning.

It had been a blind date, set up by one of the nurses at work. A friend of a friend of a friend. The night had been lovely, and she'd been so lonely. She'd invited him back to her flat and they'd had a lovely evening with a bottle of wine and some absolutely amazing sex.

They'd gone out three more times, but eventually they decided that while the sex was good, they didn't have a whole lot in common, and they'd parted on friendly terms. That was a few weeks ago.

Once she got to St. Bart's she drew some blood and ran a blood pregnancy test on herself. Positive again. There was no denying it, now. She would have to decide what she was going to do about it.

Throwing herself into her work, Molly got through the work day. Other than a few trips to quietly sob in the washroom, she thought she was doing a fairly good job of acting normal. It was Friday and she had a rare weekend off. She could spend the whole weekend freaking out and deciding what to do.

Of course, an hour before she was due to leave, Sherlock Holmes wandered into her lab. She looked up at him. "What do you need, Sherlock, I'm leaving soon and I don't really have time to help you."

He took one look at her, deducing silently, and turned on his heel. "Nothing, I'll get it elsewhere." She watched him leave Why was it even when he was being nice, did he come off as rude? Sighing, she went back to her paperwork. For once, she had bigger problems than Sherlock Holmes.

Molly unlocked the door to her flat and let herself in. She tossed the mail down on the small table just inside the door, then dropped her bag on top of it. She'd look at it later, it was probably just bills and ads and the usual.

Slumping down on the couch, she pulled out her phone, thumbing down to Kevin's contact information. She should tell him. She didn't even know what she was going to do about it, but she should tell him, nevertheless.

The phone rang twice before he answered. "Molly?" he asked. "I didn't expect to hear from you again."

Molly took a deep breath. "Can..can we meet up somewhere? I need to talk to you."

Kevin was quiet for a second. "I don't think that's a good idea, Molly. I've been seeing someone else for a few weeks now."

Molly held back a laugh. That hadn't taken long. "Well, um, I didn't really want to tell you this over the phone, but…" she sighed, then took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant, Kevin."

Silence. Molly held her breath, waiting. What would he say?

"I thought you were on the pill," he said, his voice strained. "You told me you were on the pill."

"I was, Kevin. It was an accident. Trust me, I didn't want this. I don't even know if I want it at all. But I thought you had a right to know."

"Well, Molly, I can't tell you what to do. And obviously if it's mine, I'll support it financially. I really have no desire to be a parent, though."

Molly choked back a sob. "Of course it's yours, Kevin."

"Well, you slept with me on the first date, what do I know? We'll do a paternity test and if it's mine, you'll get support. But I'm not going to be a father. I never wanted kids and I still don't. So factor that into your decision. I'm sorry, Molly, but I have plans and goals and kids do not fit into that at all."

Molly mumbled a few things more to him on the phone, and then hung up, the tears falling down her face. She'd never expected to be a mother, but she certainly hadn't expected it to go this way. Financially, she knew she could raise the baby herself, but mentally? Was she really ready for everything that came with single parenthood?

She heated up some leftovers from last night's dinner and ate it quietly, staring into space and trying not to cry again. She spent the evening curled up with a book, ignoring reality and trying not to think about it.

Molly spent Saturday on the internet, first looking up how adoptions were handled from the mother's side, then reading pregnancy websites. She wasn't against abortion, not in theory, but she was pretty sure that wasn't the direction she was going with this.

Sunday, she called Mary Watson and told her. "Molly, are you okay? This is a big deal for you. I mean, having Amanda was the best thing that ever happened to me, but I've got John. But whatever you decide, you know we'll be there for you."

Molly thanked her and they chatted for a little while until Amanda woke up from her nap.

Two weeks later, after an entire day of pestering her - first in the lab, then in the morgue, then following her back to her office as she tried to finish up paperwork, Sherlock stopped mid-sentence and looked at her for a long moment. She set down her pen and turned and looked at him. "What?"

"You're expecting." he said flatly. A simple observation.

Molly closed her eyes, opened them, and picked up her pen again, turning back to her paperwork. "Yes."

"You haven't been on a date in months."

"A little over one month, Sherlock, you're slipping. And no, I haven't. And before you ask, the father wants nothing to do with it, although he says he'll give me support if I prove it's his. I haven't decided if I'm going to bother."

Sherlock sat quietly for a few moments while Molly scribbled her signature on the printouts. Finally, Sherlock stood, wrapping his scarf around his neck. "You'll be a good mother, Molly Hooper." he said, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek. He turned and left without another word, and Molly reached up to touch her cheek where his kiss had landed.

Just what she needed. She had managed to bury her crush on Sherlock Holmes very, very deep, and the last thing she needed right now was for him to start being nice to her again. She was too vulnerable right now.

She rushed through the last of her paperwork, deposited it in the slot for the file clerk to take care of the next day, and made her way home. She saw mothers and children everywhere on her walk. She knew that it wasn't that there were more children out and about, but only that she had her mind on it, so she noticed more. But she watched them. Would that be her, soon? A baby snuggled in a sling across her chest as she made her way through the city streets? Tugging at the hand of a toddler who wanted to stop and investigate every shop window?

That night, after she'd changed for bed and cleaned her teeth, she found herself lying in bed, her hands lightly brushing her abdomen. There was life in there. Life that would become a baby. Her baby.

Within a few weeks, Molly had decided to carry the pregnancy to term, and a few weeks after that, she was secure in her decision to keep the baby. At ten weeks pregnant she heard the heartbeat of her baby at her doctor's appointment, and any lingering doubts she had were silenced as she sat there, listening to the life stirring within her.

Her friends were lovely. John and Mary offered a lot of hand-me-downs from Amanda, since she'd be a little over a year older than her baby. Molly secretly hoped she'd have a girl, so that she and Amanda could grow up as friends, but she didn't tell anyone that.

Sherlock still came to the morgue for body parts and to be generally annoying, but they never talked about her impending motherhood. She thought she caught him staring at her a few times, but she chalked it up to her stupid crush, and hormones. If he was ever going to find her interesting, it wasn't going to happen over the next few months as she ballooned to the size of a whale.

She had her scan in September, and found out she was having a boy. She tried not to be disappointed about it. A little boy with big brown eyes would be lovely, and while most of Amanda's hand-me-down clothes wouldn't be appropriate, she knew she'd love her son unconditionally.

One evening not too long after the scan, she was drinking some (horrid decaf) tea and thumbing through a baby name book when there was a knock at the door. She set down the book and opened it to find Sherlock Holmes on her doorstep.

"Sherlock, hi," she said, stepping aside and opening the door wider so he could come in. "What can I do for you?"

Sherlock stepped in and removed his coat and scarf, hanging them neatly on the hooks by her door, before he said anything. Finally, he turned to her. "Mary says you're having a boy." he said, gesturing towards her belly which was only just now starting to show through her clothing.

"Yes, I found out last week. Do you want to see the photos from the scan?" she stopped herself, realizing what she just asked. "Nevermind, I know you don't."

Sherlock ran a hand through his hair. "I would look at them."

Molly narrowed her eyes, but shrugged. She was proud of her son, and if Sherlock was willing to look at the collection of 3D ultrasound pictures she'd brought home from the hospital, she was going to show them off. She stepped over to her handbag, where she'd kept the envelope, and pulled them out. While she did that, Sherlock took a seat on her sofa. Just as she turned around she caught him sipping at her tea and making a face.

"It's decaf, don't bother. I can make you some real tea if you like." She handed him the envelope of photos and stepped into the kitchen.

Sherlock was quiet while she made the tea. When she came out with a cup for him, he had set the photos down on top of the envelope next to him on the sofa. "The technology is amazing."

Leave it to Sherlock Holmes to look at scan photos of a woman's first child and have his comment be about the technology. She smiled a half smile at him and handed him his tea. "Here you go."

She sat down on the sofa, on the other side of where he'd put the photos, and collected the up, slipping them back into the envelope. "It's weird to think about having another person inside me."

Sherlock nodded. "Molly...have you heard from the baby's father?"

Molly sighed. "No, and I don't expect to. I am probably not going to name him as the father. Money's nice, but he doesn't want anything to do with him and I don't want to open the door to him bothering us down the road if he changes his mind. I guess that's cruel, to him and to the baby, but he had a chance to be involved, and he chose not to."

Sherlock set down his tea. "Kids are flexible. Mycroft and I had very attentive parents who did everything right and neither one of us turned out...right."

Molly smiled at Sherlock. "You have a career where you help people, Sherlock. Yes, you're not good with people, but in your own way, you contribute. There's a lot to be said for that. Mycroft, well, who knows what Mycroft does. I suspect I don't want to know."

"He keeps the British government running. Leave it there." He smiled a conspiratory smile at her. "If he told you, he'd have to kill you."

Molly laughed. "Besides, I make decent money, there's a creche right at St. Bart's for employee's children, and I've got a few years before we'll outgrow this flat. Me and my son will do just fine." She rubbed her hands over her belly. "Won't we?"

Sherlock sipped his tea, and Molly looked up at him. "Why did you come by, Sherlock?"

"I was curious how things were going with your pregnancy, but I didn't want to talk about it at St. Bart's. I didn't know if you'd announced it at work." he said, staring into his tea. Was it her imagination, or was he lying to her?

"They know. I wanted to make sure things were covered for when I was off work after he's born. Plus, I didn't really want to keep it a secret, I'm very excited."

Sherlock shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. Molly watched him. "Molly, my parents have been holding onto the nursery furniture that Mycroft, and later I, used. It is looking extremely unlikely that either of us will have any children, so I asked my mother if she'd mind if I gave it to you, for your son. She said she would be delighted to see it getting some use and not collecting dust in the attic. If you'd like it. There's a cradle and a dresser and a changing table. I don't know if you have room here, but…"

He trailed off, obviously nervous. Molly reached over and took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "Sherlock, I'd be honored. I'll make room. That's a very sweet gift, thank you."

Did she notice him blushing a bit? She must have been imagining that. She dropped his hand, suddenly shy, and looked up into those bright blue eyes. "Thank you." she said again.

Sherlock smiled, proud of himself, and stood. "We'll figure out a good time to have it all moved here. I'll take care of everything, of course. It's not every day a friend has a baby."

He paused for a moment. "Actually, it's becoming increasingly common, now that I think about it. I don't have many friends and now three of them will have two babies between them."

Molly stood and smiled. "We'll try not to make a habit of it."

Sherlock shrugged. "Amanda Watson is fascinating. I enjoy being her Godfather, and watching her grow and learn. It's been an interesting experiment."

"Sherlock Holmes," Molly scolded. "Please tell me you are not experimenting on Amanda!"

"Of course not." said Sherlock, "I'm simply making observations about her development and comparing them to averages. She's only eight months old!"

Sherlock left soon after, promising to be in touch regarding the furniture. After he left, Molly sat for a moment, thinking about what a lovely gift he was giving her son. It made her happy to know that he was showing interest in her baby. No one quite knew how he'd handle Amanda coming into the picture, and he'd done so well with her. She had chalked it up to the fact that she was John's daughter, but maybe Sherlock secretly liked children?

She fell asleep that night picturing Sherlock playing snakes and ladders with Amanda and her son.