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Beyond My Control, Dear

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It was almost like he hadn’t gone through this before.

She cradled the mobile between her ear and her shoulder as best she could, half wishing for the cordless phones of her childhood which made this task much easier, and settled Aileen awkwardly on her hip. “Sherlock, dear, I am fine, for the last time. I have been through delivery before, remember? I know what it’s like when I’m going to give birth to a baby.”

“Yes, but--” Sherlock began.

“Sherlock, you’re only up North. You know damn well the minute there’s even the slightest wetness in my knickers and I say one cross word your brother is going to know and he’ll scramble for a helicopter to break all laws of physics to come get you. You do not need to call me three times a day. Aileen and I are fine, and if nothing else, I know a nurse who can take good care of me if need be.”

There was silence on Sherlock’s end for a moment. “I suppose,” he finally conceded.

She smiled to herself. “We do love you, darling, but you needn’t worry.”

“But I don’t want to miss it! You cannot have the baby until I get home, Molly!"

"That's not how these things work, Sherlock," she said, her grin widening. Oh, he was a scientist through and through but when it came to the miracle of childbirth he thought she could control it all. As if being in the hospital room and watching Aileen enter the world hadn’t disavowed him of those particular delusions. It was almost charming. “I will do all I can to take things easy, alright? Will that suffice?”

“I suppose,” he said. “I regret ever being asked to take on this case.”

“Oh, I regret it too,” she said, letting Aileen down to the ground once she realized keeping their daughter on her hip was a losing battle. “My bed seems so big and it gets so cold.”

Your bed?” Sherlock said teasingly.

“Until I have my fiancee to share it with again, it’s all mine,” she said with a soft laugh. She expected at least a chuckle out of that, but there was silence on his end. “Sherlock?”

“We should have gotten married by now,” he said. “You’re having or second child and we’ve only just crept to being affianced. I should have stood in front of a room full of people by now and told it to the rooftops that I want no one other than you.”

She leaned against the kitchen worktop and smiled widely. “We still can, before the baby’s born. It takes some time to get a license and do it all up, but I imagine your brother could give nudges here and there and speed things up.”

“But you won’t be the way you want to be,” he said.

“I just want to marry you,” she said, reaching up for the engagement ring that was around her neck. “Pretty dresses and mounds of flowers are nice, but they don’t really matter. Our family matters, our love matters. You matter.” She felt a twinge and frowned. She wasn’t doing anything overly exerting and yet...this was not good. “I take it back.”

“You want the fancy wedding after all?” he asked.

“No. There may not be time for us to get married before the baby arrives.”

“JOHN!” she heard Sherlock yell on his end as she felt the first dribble of wetness between her legs. “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you or do you need to call someone to take you to hospital?”

“I think I can manage,” she said, knowing she was probably going to show up to Royal London with sodden knickers and a little one in tow and all on her own. This was not how they had planned the birth of their second daughter, not even close. She didn’t want to do this alone, she wanted Sherlock with her, holding her hand, mopping her brow, not on the other side of a phone connection. She went to go round up Aileen and then felt more pain. Oh, bloody hell. No no no. “Sherlock? Have someone get me help here. I don’t think I’m going to make it to a hospital on my own.”

---

It was hours later when she woke up in her own bed. She had, in fact, delivered Jacquelyn Rosamund Holmes at home, with the help of paramedics and a just arrived Mary, with Sherlock on the mobile Mary held to her ear. It had been quick and painful and she never ever wanted to go through it again, but she elected not to go to hospital when the paramedics gave her and the baby a clean bill of health. It was just far too much trouble and her own bed seemed much more comfortable.

But it was the soft singing that woke her up.

She woke up to find Aileen on the bed in Sherlock’s spot, and sitting next to her with his back to her was Sherlock, holding the newest addition to their family in his arms, rocking her gently and singing to her. Molly turned gingerly and watched, stroking back Aileen’s hair before moving her hand to Sherlock’s waist. “You’re home.”

“I didn’t wait for the helicopter,” he said, not taking his eyes off his newborn daughter. “As soon as Mary said the paramedics were checking you out but everything seemed well I had Lestrade find me the first patrolman with a car with lights willing to go at insanely high speeds damn near across the entire country with the sirens on.”

“You idiot,” she said, her eyes wide.

“You’d be amazed what sirens do, and how they train drivers these days.” He finally turned to look at her. “I am truly sorry. I can’t make this up to you, can I?”

“There’s nothing to make up,” she said. “We had no idea I’d be a week early.”

“Still…”

Molly pulled a hand down and kissed his knuckles. “You can make it up to me by marrying me as soon as possible. Alright?”

He nodded, before shifting so he could give her a proper kiss. “I will. I promise.”