AN: Warning: this chapter is fluffier than Agnes' unicorn. Happy fuzzy feels may result.

The Family You Choose

When Sherlock ushered Molly into 221b Baker Street, later that afternoon, the flat seemed unusually crowded compared to the days it had been just him and John. John and Mary were seated together on the sofa, arms casually around each other. Mrs Hudson was pottering about between the kitchen and the living room, a gracious host as ever, and Lestrade was seated in John's old armchair, his bandages just peeking out from under his shirt. They all warmly greeted the arriving couple.

"Oh, it's so nice to see you two back together again!" Mrs Hudson gushed.

"And it's so nice to see you all." Molly returned "I was beginning to think I never would again."

"Don't be so dramatic, Molly. You knew I would come for you." Sherlock reprimanded her, taking his seat in his armchair, and pulling Molly down onto his lap, as all the other seats were taken.

"So what actually happened then, between you two?" John asked, watching their affectionate motions suspiciously "Sherlock, you gave me the impression Molly left as a result of the argument. And how come it took you so long to find her again? Where were you, Molly?"

"One question at a time, please John." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"South America." Molly answered over him. "Well, kind of, I wasn't actually on land most the time, I was on a cruise ship going up and down the coast. Sherlock said a boat would be safer."

"So it wasn't an argument then… you sent her away like you tried to with us?" John confirmed.

"Obviously."

"Well, he tried to make me mad at him before leaving, but it didn't work. He tried telling me our marriage was an experiment-"

"Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson protested, giving him 'the look'.

"That's low, even for you mate." Lestrade agreed, shaking his head.

"But he was only saying that." Molly quickly defended "he didn't mean it, did you?"

"Of course not. It was in the interest of her protection." Sherlock agreed, his arms wrapped protectively around her, validating his claims.

"But it didn't work, so he told me to run instead. I didn't tell him where I was going, I didn't even know myself, but he found me anyway." Molly finished the story, smiling down at him.

"Aww, that's so romantic" Mary cooed.

"Yes, it was. Anyway, enough about us." Molly deflected "I want to hear about you guys. How are you Lestrade? Sherlock said you got shot!"

Lestrade shifted a little in his chair, uncomfortable to be the centre of attention, especially when that attention was on his injury.

"I'll live. Thanks to Sherlock at least. The worst bit is knowing I owe the smarmy git my life; twice now." He joked, raising laughs from the room, and even a sly smirk from the Consulting Detective himself.

"Aw. And you two, how was the wedding, and the honeymoon? I hope you have plenty of pictures!" Molly turned her attention to John and Mary.

"Well obviously the wedding was a bit of a fiasco, what with John getting shot at, and making me think he was dead. And not telling me he was actually hurt until we were in Greece!" Mary said, with a brief disapproving look at her husband, which didn't last long and soon split into a wide grin "But other than that, it was amazing! We brought the laptop so we could show you…"

The laptop was brought out, and the next hour was spent looking through photos from the wedding and John and Mary posing at various landmarks in Greece, accompanied by various anecdotes from the couple.

"Lovely as the pictures are, you shall have to put them away for now, and get them out again later" Mrs Hudson finally instructed "Dinner is nearly ready. Although how I'm going to fit you all around the table I don't know. You young ladies can't be sitting on your husband's laps all through dinner you know"

Molly and Mary looked at Mrs Hudson then each other and giggled. John smiled and stood.

"I'll go bring your table from downstairs up then, shall I?" He suggested.

"Oh, yes, that would be a good idea!" Mrs Hudson agreed "Don't try to lift it alone though, you'll do your back a mischief."

"I'll help" Lestrade offered, getting ready to get up.

"Er, No." John stopped him "I'm pretty sure that would count as a 'strenuous physical activity', which I imagine your doctor would have told you to avoid. Am I right?"

Lestrade sank back into his chair with an eye-roll, a huff and an aggravated mutter against doctors, which John took as a yes.

"Sherlock?" John asked instead. Sherlock nodded, shifted Molly off his lap with a kiss to the forehead, and followed John down the stairs to get the other table. It was quite comical to those upstairs, shifting the living room furniture around to make space for both tables in the bigger room, to hear them bickering all the way up about the best way to manoeuvre it. Finally though, they were all seated around the two tables in the middle of the flat, digging into banquet of a roast Mrs Hudson had prepared for them.

"Molly, wine?" Mary asked. She had already gone halfway around the table with it, and now the bottle was hovering over Molly's glass.

"I'll pass thanks." Molly declined.

"Are you sure?" Mary prompted. "It's one of your favourites." She and Molly had become quite good friends over the time she'd been dating John, and they'd had several girly nights with wine, chocolates and a movie while the boys had been out on a case.

"Yes but… I… No, thank you." Molly stuttered, blushing.

The table went quiet, significant looks being passed around their friends, making Molly's blush deeper.

"Molly. I may not be as good a detective as your husband, but I get the feeling there is something you're not telling us." Lestrade said with raised eyebrows and a creeping grin.

Molly looked to Sherlock, and he gave a small nod of permission for her to make the announcement.

"I'm pregnant." She told them with a proud smile, though she couldn't look anyone in the eye as she said it.

The announcement was met with smiles, cheers and exclamations of congratulations from all gathered. Sherlock tried to smile as he accepted the congratulation and shoulder slaps, but he knew it would look painfully strained. He couldn't help it. They were all assuming he was the father, but he was still unsure of that fact. Thankfully no-one thought anything of the strained smile, assuming he hadn't quite got over the idea of being a father yet. All except John it seemed. His wise eyes took in Sherlock's expression and understood instantly. He didn't say anything yet though, offering his congratulations to them like the others, and listening as Molly explained how they'd figured it out that morning. It was as Mrs Hudson was taking away the plates from their main course, ready for dessert, that he met Sherlock's eyes, nodded, and stood.

"Well that was lovely Mrs H, but I think I'm going to have to take a bit of a walk to help it go down before I'll have room for dessert. Coming, Sherlock?"

Sherlock wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood too, swooping back down to plant a kiss on Molly's head. "I'll be back in a minute. I'm sure whatever John has to say to me won't take long."

John rolled his eyes.

"Oh, sorry, was that supposed to be subtle?" Sherlock responded sarcastically. Everyone else bit their lips, trying not to laugh.

"Just as long as you're back soon, or the crumble will burn" Mrs Hudson said, effortlessly diffusing the situation.

Minutes later, Sherlock and John sat down on a bench, not far from Baker Street. The journey had been silent, but now it was time to talk.

"The baby is yours." John cut right to the chase, watching his friend carefully for a reaction. When Sherlock just raised his eyebrows at him and turned away, he added "I know how your mind works Sherlock. All observations and conclusions. You don't see her for over a month, and she comes back pregnant. Of course the conclusion that it's not yours would cross your mind. And stay there, until you receive evidence to the contrary. So I'm giving you it now. The baby is yours."

"How do you know?" Sherlock replied without inflection, staring straight ahead.

"Because I'm a doctor." John reminded him. "Obviously prenatal care isn't my speciality, but I know the basics. Such as how long it takes for a woman to develop morning sickness. 6 weeks. She wasn't gone that long. By my estimation, it's only just been 6 weeks since Moran escaped."

"6 weeks and 4 days." Sherlock corrected.

"And how long has she been suffering from nausea?" John asked

"At least a week. I can't be sure, it had started before I found her, although some of it could have been sea-sickness." Sherlock confirmed.

"Well there you go then." John nodded "She was pregnant when she left. Definitely yours. You…are a father, Sherlock. Heaven help us."

Sherlock laughed a little, finally meeting John's eye. John's words had lifted a huge load from his shoulders, but he tried not to let it show too much. John didn't need to know just how worried he'd been. "Thanks." He said, remembering his manners.

"You are very welcome." John told him, giving him a hearty pat on the back as he got up "Now let's get back before all the crumble is gone. I don't believe for a second that they are waiting for us."

The two men chuckled as they made their way back to the flat. Just as they reached the front steps, a sleek black car pulled up behind them. They simultaneously stopped and turned, as Mycroft got out of the passenger seat, standing to face them.

"I believe congratulations are in order, dear brother." He addressed Sherlock.

"I was wondering how long it would take you. You're getting slow Mycroft." Sherlock taunted.

"Yes, well, it would have been nice if you could have called to deliver the news personally." Mycroft admonished him.

"Why bother when you have your fancy network keeping an ear out for any news." Sherlock returned.

John watched the debate like a tennis match between the two of them, before deciding to step in.

"Well you know now. Why don't you come up and join us, Mycroft? Everyone is here." He offered.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly-"

"Mrs Hudson has made a crumble. I'm sure there will be plenty to go around." Sherlock added, banking on his brother's love of confection. John's eyes widened as he looked back at Sherlock. Usually he was eager for Mycroft to leave, never before had John heard him extend an invitation to the man. Must be his approaching fatherhood, John reasoned.

"Well then. Perhaps I can spare a minute or two to socialize." Mycroft agreed.

When they got back upstairs most of the furniture had been rearranged again, and the others were settled on the sofas with their bowls. Mrs Hudson immediately jumped up, to get bowls for Sherlock, John and Mycroft, and the three men made themselves comfortable and joined in the friendly chatter.

As the others talked, Sherlock looked around the room at the eclectic assortment of individuals. The British Government, the Pathologist, the Army Doctor, the Detective Inspector, the Teacher and the Landlady. In the past Sherlock had never had friends, only acquaintances. He still didn't have friends: these people were all more than that to him. They were his family. When his child was born, these would be its family, his or her aunt and uncles and grandmother. He couldn't imagine better.

AN: Thinking about leaving it here, this seems like quite a nice place to leave it. I know I said that before, but this feels a lot more like an ending. Might do a few bonus chapters later, who knows.