To say that we wish there was another much nicer way that we could do this is an understatement. Though a group of writers involved in this incident have come to the agreement that this must be done not only for the sake of the people who are a part of these networks, but also to let the general public, their and our readers, know of this situation and who the people that they are idolising really are.
So, without further ado, welcome to the truth about the Penetration Station:
nordmenn er slke folk som sier de ikke liker monarki, men blir sure om noen fornærmer kongefamilien
#meg,, men herregud prinsipielt er man nødt til å være negativ til kongedømme og kongefamilier…. men tilfeldigvis i norge har vi en veldig sympatisk kongefamilie… hadde vi feks hatt den svenske kongefamilien hadde den blitt kastet ut av landet i nittentoogførr. så jeg tror det er derfor vi ikke “bryr” oss så mye i norge at vi har kongefamilien, fordi de er ikke noe særlig til bry, og vi liker de som personer.
men asså. en familie som er født inn som høyerestående mennesker i et samfunn,, er liksom det motsatt av en norsk samfunnsforståelse. Så det er et paradoks dette her.
What is this? No way! I’ve actually finally posted this story! Wow!
Well then, I hope you enjoy:)
Sherlolly fic prompt: They’re babysitting for John & Mary when Sherlock casually mentions he wouldn’t mind if they had one of their own. The catch? He and Molly aren’t even dating and she has no idea he’s in love with her! - miz-joely
Are you free at the weekend?
Depends on what you are about to ask.
It’s Harry’s birthday and she invited us to stay with her in Bristol. Do you mind looking after Isabelle for that time?
She’s still drinking.
I know. That’s why I want you to take Izzy. Mary insists we go to her but we both think it would be better if we left Izzy in London.
Turns out Mary just phoned Molly as well and it seems that she’s coming instead. So no need to worry.
I could have managed.
I know but she’s a woman. She knows those things better.
You’re applying gender roles, John. You couldn’t know if she’s even held a baby before. I’ll come anyway.
The more the merrier.
Mary was feeding Isabelle on the sofa while typing on her phone with one hand.
“Well? Did he agree?”
John grinned, sitting down next to her. “Oh yes he did. He even showed enthusiasm when I mentioned that Molly will be coming, too.”
“Seems like everything is going according to our plan,” Mary said and turned her attention back to her phone, taking the now empty milk bottle out of Izzy’s hands before she could throw it on the ground and giving it to John so he could take it to the kitchen.
“And Molly?” John asked, while rising up again.
“She says that she’s never been alone with a baby before. Took some persuading but when I mentioned that she only needs to supervise Sherlock, who can handle Izzy himself… Let’s just say that the answer came a lot faster.”
Mary was now tickling the little girl’s feet, phone still having most of her attention.
John’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “And?”
“Just a mo… Let me quote: "If you think that I’d be of any use, I could come but remember that I’m not doing this because of Sherlock but because you asked.”.“
"So she’s not coming for Sherlock?” John was now back in the room.
“Of course she’s coming for Sherlock,” she said. “Okay maybe a little for Izzy, too. Who’s the pretty girl?”
Izzy giggled in reply and wrapped her small fingers around her mothers hand. She snuggled closer to her and yawned widely.
John still tried to give his last warnings to Sherlock and Mary had to drag him away from the door.
She called over her shoulder: “And Sherlock! Try to look less like you’ve got baby poo under your nose. Molly should be here in the next ten minutes and you know how she loves your smile.” She gave him a thumbs up while John sat in their car, rolling his eyes.
“Oh and good luck! Don’t forget Izzy when Molly comes.” Mary winked, sat in the car and drove away, leaving the confused detective on the doorstep, trying to find sense in her words.
“Hello, Sherlock!” Molly called from the door.
“Shh. Isabelle is sleeping.”
She quietly sneaked in the flat and met Sherlock with a smile. “Hi.”
To her surprise he smiled back. “Hello.”
They stood there awkwardly for some time, Sherlock standing in the way, staring at her, until she coughed to release the tension.
“Can I come in?” she asked, nervous if she’d done something wrong.
Sherlock seemed to collect himself and he blinked a couple of times. He nodded and stepped aside so that Molly could go to the living room. A light blush covered his cheeks. He chastised himself in his head for losing his cool and looking like an idiot, so he ran his fingers through his hair and turned his face in the direction of Molly, who had put her large bag on the floor and was shedding her outside clothes.
“Now what do we do?” she asked expectantly.
After Isabelle’s nap Sherlock took her to the living room so she could play on her soft pink blanket. Sherlock set himself next to her on the floor, his back supported against the sofa. Molly was sitting on the sofa, legs curled up under her, working with her computer.
From time to time the two on the floor would share thoughts on something, Izzy giggling and pointing at things, Sherlock putting his thoughts into comprehensible words. Even though Molly was focusing on working, she could still catch a few lines, which made her smile to herself. Sherlock couldn’t see it but somehow he felt it, like a tingle in his back when Molly’s lips curled up. He decided not to ponder on it and wrote it off as a simple instinct.
That of course didn’t stop him from smiling as well.
Sherlock had always liked children in his own way ever since he was old enough to not be one himself. Of course he hated when they were noisy and otherwise annoying but he was very fascinated and even a little bit jealous about their naivety about the world. Their simple minds, focused on the things around them, wanting to know more and more, not yet contaminated by disappointment and forced duties of school that robbed them the joy of learning.
Children would often understand him better than adults. And that was what drew him to them. Children would admire him despite all his faults. Because their world had not yet been corrupted by the depressive reality of life. Instead their minds were open to wonders.
“Could you take over for a little bit? I have to prepare her milk,” he said to Molly and rose up stretching his aching back a little.
She nodded and put away her computer. “Sure.”
When Sherlock reentered the room he had an odd sensation in his chest. He felt like his heart had expanded a little and he felt again the tingling feeling of happiness.
Molly was sitting on the floor with the little baby Watson. The girl had got very close to her and was comfortably sitting against her thigh, loading all her soft toys in Molly’s lap, happily blabbing about every one of them. There was a sincere smile on the woman’s face as she watched the baby with adoring eyes. She seemed to get along with Izzy brilliantly.
Molly had not seen Sherlock come in so she was surprised to hear his deep voice behind her.
“We should have one of our own.”
Molly was sure she had misheard him. But when he repeated…
“We should have one of our own.”
… her mouth fell open.
“Have what of our own? What are you talking about, Sherlock?” she was confused.
He sat down next to her, awfully close, reaching a hand towards Izzy who crawled to him, raised her to his lap and gave her the milk bottle so that she could quench her appetite.
“A baby,” he calmly answered while looking down at the child.
Molly didn’t believe her ears. She blinked. Blinked twice. And then painfully pinched her arm.
He repeated slowly. “We should have a baby of our own. Or maybe two. That can be decided later.”
Molly continued blinking. She was sitting still as a statue otherwise and Isabelle was curiously peeking at her over her milk bottle which was firmly gripped in her tiny hands.
Since Molly hadn’t answered Sherlock felt the need to explain himself a little: “Taking into account your and my intelligence, our good looks, level of skill in our fields, the fact that if our child inherits both of our personality traits - my calculative logic and your open-minded thinking - then our child would be perfect. I’m sure you’re able to follow my train of thoughts.”
Molly was still staring at him with an open mouth so that even Izzy became worried and looked at Sherlock, eyes full of questions.
“Or maybe not.”
She was able to collect herself so much that she could stutter out another “W-what?”.
Sherlock, having found reassurance in her question, continued to explain, admittedly a bit nervously: “I admit that I am not very experienced in the baby-making department but I must say that I am a fast learner and I’m sure with your help I'll—”
Molly closed her mouth with a ominous grit of teeth. “What on Earth are you talking about, Sherlock Holmes? Is this some kind of a joke?”
Now it was Sherlock’s turn to gape with an open mouth. “No! No, of course not!”
“Then what is this about?” She shook her head to clear it.
He frowned. “I thought I made my thoughts quite clear,” he said and took Izzy’s empty milk bottle from her to stop her playing with it and gave her a soft bunny toy instead.
“So you’re serious?”
Sherlock smiled softly, something that was very rare. “If you’re worrying about our romantic relationship then don’t. I… I know I’m not really expressive about my feelings,” he said the word with a slight sneer, “but I can say that… ehm… Molly, I find you extremely… interesting… romantically and uhm… sexually, so if you are willing… I mean only if you want to… we c-could… engage in a relationship?”
He was now profusely blushing and stuttering which Molly had never seen him do before, so she could tell that he was being honest with her.
She threw a bear straight at his face, followed by a bunny, a tiger and finally a pink dog. Izzy giggled at that show, climbing off from the mortified Sherlock’s lap to get her tiger from the floor.
“Do you have any idea..? What the hell were you thinking…? Is this your idea of a…? Ugghhh you are so infuriating!!” Molly was fuming.
She grabbed the collar of his dress shirt and pulled him to her so that she could kiss that maddening man whom she loved. Passionate, demanding and loving the kiss pulled them both on the floor and left them gasping for breath.
“I take it that’s a yes,” Sherlock breathed heavily. Their noses were still touching and Molly was lying on top of him, basically straddling his hips. Her hands were on his shoulders and his on her back and under her shirt on her waist.
“Yes,” she whispered. Before they could start kissing again they were interrupted by little Izzy who had started clapping and laughing. That in turn made Molly laugh as well which also made Sherlock chuckle.
She rolled herself off him to the floor where Izzy crawled to her. She tried to imitate what they were doing and gently, like only a child can, put her hands on Molly’s cheeks and placed a wet peck on her lips. Then she lied her head on Molly’s chest an hugged her.
After lying there for a while the little girl fell asleep. Sherlock picked her up from Molly’s chest and took her in her room to her cot. He then returned to the living room and sat on the sofa next to Molly. She put her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her, to keep her as close to him as possible.
“I think you’re going to be a wonderful mother, Molly.”