Late November arrived heralding the arrival
of the much-dreaded family dinner date.
Molly could not comprehend how cool Sherlock was being about the whole
affair. He had stayed true to his word
thus far of not getting bored with her but he had been spending less time with
her as of late. He was happy to be about
taking cases and often would forget to text without a prompting from John.
Molly adjusted quickly once more to a shift in their dynamic. She was thoroughly enjoying being the girlfriend of the infamous Sherlock Holmes and the affection he showed in their private life. There were times when she could not believe the love she was receiving, especially from a man who still insisted to others that he did not have a heart. There were still things he did that made her want to choke him but she learned to adjust to others. He still rattled off deductions especially at the most opportune of times and was as demanding as ever. His demands had just increased in variety and were not limited to the morgue. Molly’s go to form of correction was to just continue swatting the back of his head, she found it much more effective than Watson’s verbal warning. He also often had irregulars follow her, which at first bugged the dickens out of her, but she made the best and actually became good friends with a woman named Robin after a rocky start. On a whole Molly was breathing a lot easier as she saw that a future with Sherlock could be possible.
Molly was nervous about the whole affair so they ended up arriving late on Saturday night and they were planning on heading back late Sunday afternoon after attending the family function. This allowed for the shortest amount of time but was still acceptable. As part of this deal Molly and Sherlock would be joining the family at the church for morning service.
Molly had begged Sherlock to hold onto his deductions and to wait until after to tell her all about them in private. He endeavored to do his best but would whisper words here and there in her ear when it became too difficult. She was surprised that aside from those comments he was silent most of the service but she kept looking at him from time to time to gauge his reactions. His eyes were often roaming but he could tell when Molly was examining him. He would meet her eyes and smile signaling that she had been caught. He eventually grabbed her hand and started stroking it in soothing circles. When he grew bored of that he started playing a concerto on her hand with his fingers.
When the last hymn was finished he could not help himself and let out a, “Finally,” while he jumped out of the pew, which earned him many looks and a few chuckles. He tried to salvage the situation by excusing himself to the washroom and explaining that he really needed to use the restroom as way of an apology for his outburst.
Molly earned both her and Sherlock a reprieve by recommending that she and Sherlock walk part of the way back. Plans were made and someone would head back and find them in a half hour to retrieve them for dinner.
Molly stretched out her arms and heaved a sigh of relief. After bringing her hands down she reached out for her detective’s hand and linked their fingers together. She had been becoming freer with physical affection but had yet to initiate any kisses but Sherlock held on to any action she initiated. He smiled at her before bringing up their linked hands and placing a kiss on her digits. He then dropped their hands in between them and Molly took to swinging them in a carefree attitude as they walked along a leaf-strewn path.
She waited for Sherlock to share all his deductions that he had to have been holding in and waited for him to decry the fallacies of faith. However, Sherlock remained uncharacteristically silent for a man who found fault with practically everything and found great satisfaction in verbally denouncing them. Eventually he spoke but it was not something Molly had expected.
He cleared his throat nervously as he told her, “I didn’t know you believed…” He paused and searched for a word that would not offend his future wife.
“I don’t.” Molly snapped out quickly before Sherlock finished the sentence.
He was grateful for not having to finish what could have been an unfortunate statement but he would not let the lie rest.
“Hmm…no. You believe at least in part.”
“Maybe…I don’t know.”
“Is it that you believe it but when faced with the overwhelming evidence of science coupled with working in a medical field you find it to be an impossibility?”
“I don’t think that religion and science have to be exclusive. If that were the case I wouldn’t have a problem with God.”
Sherlock was attuned to Molly’s moods and could tell she was hiding something new that he hadn’t discovered yet. If he pushed the right buttons just right he would find out something new. With his curiosity sufficiently piqued he proceeded to prod his pathologist.
“The earth was created in seven days?” He tried to engage her to see how far her beliefs went.
“The original Hebrew word means ages. I figure if God is God He can create the world in seven days, but I also think it is possible that He used ages. You didn’t even remember that the earth revolved around the sun so why does it really matter to you?”
“It doesn’t but you do and I want to know what you think on the subject.”
Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh, he hated when she continually asked why.
“For the children of course.”
“We need to discuss if you want to take them to church or how we raise them.” He continued rattling on, “I guess I won’t be completely adverse to it but we also need to raise them so that they think for themselves and not blindly accept such…”
He tried to find a more appropriate word than drivel. He did not want an upset Molly on his hands. He would need to investigate this religion thing later, but he was willing to compromise on the church thing if it was between keeping or losing Molly. He also thought that perhaps he was jumping to conclusions as Molly herself did not attend church, even on Christmas Eve.
Sherlock had gotten carried away in his thoughts and did not realize for a moment that Molly had stopped walking until he felt a tug from their attached hands. He turned back to look at her and saw one of his least favorite facial expressions. She was wearing her not good face when he had done something worse than deserving just a head slap and he had no idea what he had said.
“You want children?” Molly unsurely asked.
Sherlock looked to the side and then at her.
“Don’t you?” He asked surprised
She thought for a bit before responding. “I’m a bit Katniss Everdeen about the whole situation I guess.”
Sherlock wore the same facial expression he wore when asked about Greg, “Who?”
“She’s a character in a book that takes place in a dystopian society who is afraid to have children because they would possibly die.”
Sherlock maneuvered their bodies so that they were facing each other head on.
“Are you afraid my lifestyle will kill our possible offspring?”
“No, I’m afraid my past will. That and I’m afraid I would be a terrible mother.”
Sherlock thought her statement was ridiculous. In his mind she would be a great mother. He decided not to leave that part of the discussion for another day and to reassure her of her safety, he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.
“We are not having children today,” he muttered a slightly bitter “obviously” under his breath. “However, I promise you that any hypothetical spawn we have together will experience the highest safety standards as do you. Now that Moriarty is gone and as soon as Magnussen is taken care of we will be at our leisure to make such decisions then.”
Molly unconsciously placed her free hand upon her stomach. Molly felt like she was in an alternate universe. Sherlock Holmes making the case for having children. She had long ago given into the fate of being a lonely cat woman and had to readjust her world to being in a loving if not typical relationship. She had it on questionable authority that typical was boring anyway. Now there was the discussion of hypothetical progeny and just the thought of putting them in danger because of her connections overwhelmed her. She had no qualms or fear about facing danger herself, she would stand by Sherlock no matter what, but to subject a child to that life?
“That’s just it. Someone else will always pop up.”
“Mary is having a child and seems to be quite happy about the prospect... except for the absent husband status. We can always wait and see how that turns out.”
He grabbed for her hand and continued walking He had ended up pushing the wrong buttons but had received some important information, information that would have to be scrutinized before delving further. He had not gotten an answer to his previous question, however, and was not one to give up, so he went back to the previous data he was after. After walking in silence for a few minutes he broke it with his question.
“You believe in God or at least the possibility of God. You don’t have the qualms of a scientist because the facts don’t match up, so why do you avoid the topic?”
“Sherlock.” Molly said with evident exhaustion in her voice.
“Just answer this one little question. I can’t figure it out as I find myself out of my element.”
Molly closed her eyes and spoke through gritted teeth. “If God can bring back His son from the dead why couldn’t He do so for my father? I love my adopted family but I find it difficult to reconcile their idea of a personal loving God to what I have seen over the years.”
Sherlock forgot to put in sentiment as a possible answer for her belief system. It was clear to recognize the anger she held for a God Sherlock didn’t believe in. They continued to walk. Molly pulled her arms away to wrap them around her middle to protect herself from an imaginary fall chill. Sherlock felt as if she were pulling away. He was always pushing for too much from her and sometimes he feared he would push too far one day.
He attempted to put his arm around her and was relieved when she didn’t pull away and instead moved closer to his side. It made walking awkward with their mismatched heights but they managed and felt comforted by the closeness.
“Which father did you want back from the dead?” Sherlock dared to ask without knowing why.
“I would have settled for either one.” She said looking up into his face.
Sherlock let the matter lie for another time. He now had plenty of information to catalogue in what was now one of his most favorite rooms. The room had grown again. It was time for a remodel.