Lexie sometimes draws

keeperofthebooks replied to your post: y’all, I’m watching Saved by the Bell and Boy Meets World reruns.

Because I’m feeling fluffy- Sketch or fic (or both, if you feel so inclined!) Molly is pregnant and far along enough to have Sherlock feel his child move/kick for the first time.

Molly paused mid-stride on the busy London streets, her hand pressing on her steadily swelling middle section. She concentrated on the fluttering sensation that had become stronger over the last week or so and smiled.

She glanced around her, noting that her husband hadn’t become aware that she’d stopped walking.

“Sherlock. Sherlock!” she called out to him, a few people turning to glance at her as they went about their day.

The consulting detective turned around, a look of momentary panic on his features as he’d rushed back over to where she was standing, hovering over her.

“What is it, what’s happened?” he asked hurriedly, his eyes running over her face and body to check for bodily harm.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong, just give me your hand,” Molly said, grabbing his wrist and placing it over the spot where her own hand had just been. “There. Do you feel that?”

Sherlock frowned, his face showing concentration for a few moments. “Molly, I don’t…”

She managed to catch the exact moment when he felt it. His eyes widened and the pressure of his hand increased slightly. “What…was that a kick? It shouldn’t be able to kick this soon, should it?”

Molly shook her head, placing her hand over his. ”It’s not a kick…I think it’s a hiccup.”

The movement was felt by both again and Sherlock dropped to his knees right there on the pavement, pushing her coat aside to give him better access as he pressed his ear to the spot where the baby was fluttering.

“What’s the matter, little one?” Molly felt his voice against her, and her heart skipped a beat listening to him speak to their child. He ran his hand over her belly once more. “There, there, it will pass.”

Molly ran her fingers through his hair as he continued to be pressed against her, out in the middle of the London day, both of them oblivious to the look and even secret smiles that were being directed their way by passers by.

After a few moments, the baby quieted again and Sherlock stood up, pulling out one of his black notebooks and scribbling some notes quickly. Snapping the book closed, he finally looked at her. She could see the look on his face, the one that said that he was onto the trail of a truly fascinating case.

“Right on schedule,” he said with a smile, quickly dipping down to place a light kiss on her lips. “Now come along, Molly. I’m going to need a bit more data from you…”