A.N: Hello my dear Mollcroftians!

This is the final chapter! I hope you are going to like it. I wanted to thank a minute to thank you for being with me all along this story. Never doubt that it was your lovely reviews that kept me going. Believe it when I say reviews are the fuel of my motivation .

I hope you will enjoy this chapter and that you will enjoy my future stories.

Lots of love.


Chapter 27:

Mycroft was waiting by the altar, when Molly appeared on John Watson's arm. He thought he was ready, but seeing her walking towards him in her glorious white dress, happiness written all over her face took his breath away.

He kept his eyes locked with hers and he couldn't stop smiling as she walked closer.

"I still can't believe she is marrying you," Sherlock whispered.

"I know, I can't believe it either."

"You are astonishing." Mycroft whispered to Molly as he took her hand and turned toward the pastor.

"The bride and groom have decided to write their own vows," the pastor announced later as the ceremony went its course.

"Oh lord," Mycroft heard Sherlock whisper.

The pastor turned towards the bride. "Molly?"

She took a deep breath.

"Mycroft, if anyone would had told me a couple of years ago that I would be standing here in front of you, feeling the way I feel, I would have told them they had gone mad. And yet here I am, happier than I ever thought I could ever be, about to give birth to our baby. Mycroft, I never thought I could love anyone the way I love you."

Mycroft squeezed her hand, his vision getting blurry with tears.

She continued as her voice broke and the tears fell. "Mycroft, I promise to be your lover, companion and friend, your partner in parenthood, your ally in conflict, your greatest fan and your toughest adversary."

"I will be your comrade in adventure, your student and your teacher, your consolation in disappointment, your accomplice in mischief. This is my sacred vow to you, Mycroft. I will always be by your side, no matter how hard it might become, no matter what you need. I will be there; I will walk with you hand in hand wherever our journey takes 're nothing short of my everything."

Mycroft had to restrain himself from pulling her to him and snogging her in front of everybody. He settled for lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing it.

"Mycroft?" The pastor encouraged.

"Here comes nothing." Sherlock whispered which made Mycroft half-smile.

"Molly, you know me better than anyone else in this world and somehow still you managed to love me. You are my best friend and one true love. I remember one day we discussed love and I told you I didn't believe in such a thing. I remember your shock and the pain, and I can understand that now. It was probably the biggest infamy I have ever said. How could I not believe in love when I had you in my life? Perfect, beautiful, loving and sweet Molly. I always thought I was a smart man living in a world of idiots but I was the idiot. An idiot for not realizing that the first moment I set my eyes on you, you would become the most important person in my life, the person I would love more than reason should allow. There is still a part of me today who cannot believe I'm the fortunate man who gets to marry you. I see these vows not as promises but as privileges: I get to laugh with you and cry with you; care for you and share with you. I get to run with you and walk with you; build with you and live with you. Lao Tzu said, 'To love someone deeply gives you strength. Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage.' No truer words have ever been spoken as I've never felt braver or stronger as I do on this day declaring, in front of everyone here, that for the world you might be a person. For me, Molly, you are the world. "

Molly didn't show the same restraint that Mycroft did and enthusiastically pulled him into a kiss.

"Too early, sweetheart." Mary chuckled, tugging her away from Mycroft.

Once the pastor was done and declared them husband and wife, Mycroft finally had his chance.

"Finally. My wife," he whispered, relishing the sound of the words. "I thought this moment would never come."

He kissed her passionately, forgetting about the people, the noise. It was just Molly and him. Molly Holmes, his wife.

A loud "ahem" brought him back to reality. "You might want to stop that now. People are waiting eyes and we don't want them to vomit over this marble floor, do we?" Sherlock whispered to the kissing couple.

The rest of the party went perfectly until Sherlock made his best man speech.

"Well I guess it is time for me to fulfill my best man's duty by performing a senseless speech on the joy of an archaic societal construct such as marriage."

Mycroft grimaced but Molly reached for his hand and squeezed it.

"It's going to be fine, Mycroft. It's only Sherlock."

"Yes. Perish the thought."

Sherlock blithely continued. "I have known Mycroft all my life and when I think of him, the first words that come to mind are 'selfish,' 'cold,' 'emotionless,' 'conniving.' Should I go on?"

"No it's fine, brother, they get the picture." Mycroft replied in a bored stage whisper. He was thankful that Molly was holding his hand.

The brother quickly looked at Mycroft. "Very well." He cleared his throat and looked at his notes again.

"I thought that nothing could ever affect my brother as he seemed to love only two things: his country and his cake but only until Molly Hooper, or should I say Molly Holmes, entered his life. When I first found out about Molly and Mycroft, I was shocked. She is the very opposite of my brother. She is fun while he is boring; naïve when he is sly. I thought he was going to destroy her. Who would have thought she would be the one saving him?"

Mycroft let out a breath of relief he didn't know he was holding.

"Because this Mycroft," his younger brother gestured said pointing to the older Holmes, "is nothing compared to the Mycroft I knew before. When you look at them together, once you go past the improbability of the relationship, you can see the man he has become for her. And this allows me to think that maybe, just maybe he might be worthy enough to be with a woman as kind, loving and brave as Molly Hooper. I am not one to know love or to even believe in this chemical defect but when I see the way they look at each other, the way they smile for each other and all the sacrifices and hardships they have endured to be here today, I have come to the realization that perhaps love is something worth pursuing after all."

Sherlock turned toward his brother. "There was a day not so long ago, when I asked if you had found a goldfish to share your bowl but of course at the time I was merely mocking you and your ineptitude at creating relationships. At that time I never thought the Ice Man was able to experience any human feelings but Molly healed you. I see you happy, Mycroft, blissfully happy. And I have to say it suits you, and as surprising as it seems, it doesn't annoy me as much as I thought it would. I guess that in the end, you're not the worst person I have ever met."

"Thank you, Sherlock" Mycroft responded, unable to hide, and for once, allowing emotion to lace his answer. He knew Sherlock was not one to share but what he had just said was clearly his brother's way to of showing he cared.

"Oh and Molly, let me tell you a trade secret. If you need to ask him anything, just give him a slice of Black Forrest cake with whipped cream. Wait until the start of his sugar rush and ask him whatever you want."

Molly chuckled. "Duly noted."

"No offence, brother mine, but Molly has other attributes that give me a much better rush than any cake could ever do. She has already figured out the trick and believe me, she can get whatever she pleases."

"Mycroft!" Molly turned bright red.

Her husband laughed and kiss her forehead. "Nothing wrong with this, my dear."

"See. They are disgustingly happy. " Sherlock grimaced. "Anyway, Mycroft and Molly, may you be happy together as long as possible."

"Sir, it's your brother on the phone. It seems it's time," Anthea announced as the plane touched the tarmac.

"What is—" Mycroft went pale, realizing what Anthea meant.

He grabbed the phone. "Talk to me."

"Mycroft finally! Where were you? I've been trying to call you for the past hour."

"You knew I was in Zurich! It was only a two-day trip. I just landed. Where are you?" He pointed at his things for Anthea to put them in order.

"Molly is in labour. I took her to St Bart's over an hour ago."

"But she isn't due for another three weeks. Is she alright?"

"The doctor said she is fine. It is pretty common for the first child to be born before full term. Molly is barely three centimetres dilated; you still have time."

Mycroft grimaced, getting off the plane. "I'm not sure what bother me most – that you know how much my wife is dilated or that you actually know what it means."

"Oh do keep calm. I had to study the subject of pregnancy. This is my godchild after all. I need to be on top of my game. I also realized I shouldn't have taken her for Indian food. Apparently, spicy food has a tendency to induce childbirth."

"Sherlock." Mycroft growled but he couldn't blame his brother. Molly loved spicy food and she probably was the one who persuaded Sherlock.

His brother sighed. "I have to go."

"I'll be there in 45 minutes I reckon. Just tell her that I love her."

"Sure, I'll tell her that I love her."

Mycroft pinched his nose. "Sherlock ..."

"Antagonizing you is always so amusing. I'll tell her – not that she needs to be reminded. Just get here in one piece." Sherlock hung up before Mycroft had a chance to add anything.

"I'm going to be a father." Mycroft had a dazed look.

"And you only realized that now? It was pretty obvious for the past few months." Anthea added looking at her boss. "Have you told her yet?"

"Told her what?"

"About your retirement. This country won't be the same without you, sir."

Mycroft shook his head, looking out of the window. "No she doesn't know yet. I know Molly by heart. She probably would have tried to dissuade me to do that, thinking I was doing it for her."

"Aren't you?"

Mycroft turned toward his PA and met her eyes; she needed to see he meant every word. "No, I am not doing it for her. I am doing it for me. I am 46 years old, I have more money than I know what to do with and this is probably my only chance to experience fatherhood. You know that, no matter how much I want to put my family first, in our line of work, this will be virtually impossible. I will end up missing first steps, first words, first laugh, and first days of school. Birthdays, riding lessons, and all these little things that make a childhood worthwhile. I know Molly. She understands – she will always understand but she would never make me feel like I am a bad father and yet I would always feel like that."

"I see what you mean, sir. You will be missed."

He smiled. His assistant was like him. No sentiment. Maybe that was the reason why they made such a good team. He knew what she meant by her words: she was going to miss him. "You know I won't be too far away. I will stand in the shadows." He chuckled. "If my brother can be the only consulting detective in the world, why can't I be the consulting government? Larry Smith will be a great replacement and you know everything there is to know in order to make him almost as good as I am."

"Nobody can be as good as you are, sir."

"Obviously, but we can dream, can't we?"

When Mycroft arrived at the hospital, his wife was already being attended to by doctors and nurses, and he would be forever grateful to his brother for keeping her company and holding her hand.

"Oh thank god you're here!" Sherlock exclaimed as soon as Mycroft entered the room. "I'm not sure how much more of this I could take."

"Mycroft." Molly's relief was palpable.

"I'm sorry, so sorry, my darling." He took over from Sherlock and held Molly's hand.

"Be careful, Mycroft. Molly may look frail but she has an iron grip. I'm pretty sure she might have broken a couple of my fingers." Sherlock flexed his fingers gingerly, wincing a little.

As a contraction hit, Molly held on to Mycroft's hand and squeezed as hard as she could, making him grimace slightly.

"Told you." Sherlock stated smugly.

"He doesn't deserve anything! This is his fault!" She growled with pain.

"Of course I can dear, squeeze as hard as you want" Mycroft replied softly, brushing the hair on top of Molly's hot forehead.

Sherlock tried to hide his smile. "I will be outside. Good luck, Molly."

The doctor entered a couple of minutes later, letting Molly know it was time.

"Okay it's time to push, Molly. With each contraction, just push as hard as you can okay?"

She nodded, gripping her husband's hand tighter and willed her body to accept what Nature intended.

"You're doing so well, Molly, you are so strong." Mycroft whispered in encouragement.

"We will never have sex again, you know that right?" She gasped between pushes.

"Understood." Mycroft replied gently as a nurse snorted. It was probably something she heard on a daily basis.

"I'm serious; you will never touch me again. This is all your fault!"

"I know it is. You already told me."

"It should be you trying to push a bowling ball through a straw!" She shouted during the peak of her latest contraction.

"I would if I could."

"Okay, Molly, you have to rest for a few minutes now. The baby is well on the way and won't slip back up. We have to rest to avoid any tears. Just fight the need to push."

Molly rested her head heavily on the bed.

"I can't do it anymore, Mycroft." Tears of exhaustion filled her eyes. "I thought I was strong enough but I can't."

The doctor took his place at the foot of the bed again. "Okay Molly, time to push again. One or two more and you'll have your beautiful baby."

She shook her head, looking at Mycroft with so much desperation. It made his heart ache.

"I can't. I'm sorry I can't."

Mycroft let go of her hand and rested his forehead against her hot one. "Of course you can, Molly Holmes. You are the strongest, bravest person I have ever met. You kept our baby safe when it was supposed to die. You never lost faith and you were strong enough to stay with me. Molly love, you can do it. I love you and I know you. Just once more, Molly, just once more."

She nodded and bit her lip even as her mind registered her weariness. He propped her up to give her more leverage. Grunting and making almost feral sounds, Molly pushed as hard as she could. Mycroft didn't know if that was even possible but he could almost feel her pain.

And then time seemed to stand still and then they heard the loud wails of a newborn. Mycroft kissed Molly's forehead in relief.

"Would the daddy like to cut the cord?"

Mycroft nodded, mute with emotion. He took the pair of surgical scissors with a shaky hand and looked down at his child.

He was still covered of blood but he was the most beautiful thing Mycroft had ever seen and for the first time in his life, Mycroft was unashamed of the tears that were running down his face.

"Don't worry, you won't hurt him." The doctor said upon seeing his hesitation.

Mycroft cut the umbilical cord and turned to his wife with a bright smile. "He is perfect, Molly. Our son is just perfect." His voice was hoarse with emotion.

"A son?" She let out a small sob of happiness. "A son. We have our Matthew Sherlock Holmes."

Her husband stood beside her again as the nurse cleaned the baby. He kissed her lips tenderly. "He is absolutely. Thank you for such a beautiful gift, my dear."

"You were right about him being a boy."

"Of course I was, I'm always right." He replied gently stroking her hair.

"If it's what you'd like to think."

The nurse came and placed the baby in Molly's arms.

She looked down at her little bundle in awe. "I can't believe we made something so beautiful, and so perfect." She carefully took their son's little hand in hers.

Mycroft sat on a chair by the bed, snaking one arm behind her shoulders and resting the other one on their son. "You made him perfect, Molly. You can only create perfection."

She looked at him with a small smile. "I thought nothing was perfect."

"You're the exception to the rule. You're perfect to me."

"You're a dad." Her voice breaking with emotion.

"And you're a mum." He took a deep breath. "I can't believe I almost missed out on this. It's a good thing I realized this before it was too late."

"I love you, Mycroft."

"I love you too, Molly."

It was much later, when Mycroft was sitting on the hospital chair, holding their sleeping son beside a dozing Molly that Sherlock made his entrance with balloons, a gift bag and a huge blue teddy bear holding an "It's A Boy!" sign.

Molly opened her eyes and smiled at Sherlock. "You didn't have to bring any gifts."

He tied the balloon at the foot of the bed. "Apparently it is customary to bring something for the mother and child." He extended the bag to Molly. "The girl at the gift shop said these are a new mother's essentials."

His brother didn't miss the momentary look of longing in Sherlock's eyes when he looked at the baby. "Would you like to hold your nephew?" Mycroft asked, standing up carefully in order not to wake up his son.

"No, thanks I don't see the point of it right now. He can't do anything. "

Mycroft knew his brother better than he knew himself and knew Sherlock felt apprehension and fear but certainly no disinterest.

"We called him Matthew Sherlock." Molly said with a small smile as she opened the bag Sherlock brought. "Come on, Sherlock, just hold him, he won't break. Babies are not as fragile as you think."

Mycroft smiled at his wife. Molly could read Sherlock just as well as he could.

Finally, Mycroft came to stand in front of his brother. "Just make sure you support his neck and everything will be fine."

He settled the baby in Sherlock's arms who stiffened as soon as Mycroft let go.

Sherlock let out the breath he was holding and looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms.

Meanwhile, Mycroft circled the bed and went to sit beside Molly.

Sherlock relaxed slightly after a few seconds and turned toward the new parents. "Well I guess we can thanks genetics that your child didn't get his nose." He jerked his head toward Mycroft.

"Hey! I love his nose!"

"Yes and you're probably the only one." Sherlock stated, looking down at his nephew again.

Mycroft chuckled. "I had the exact same thought."

"John and Mary will be coming by later." Sherlock said still looking down at the baby. "Do you think I could borrow your baby sometime to go on cases?"

He looked up. "He is quite cute. I am pretty sure it would make people much more trustful."

"You take argue with him on that one, I'm too tired." Molly nudged her husband while rolling her eyes.

"Are you asking us to allow you to bring our infant son to crime scenes?" Mycroft's voice had a hard edge.

"Well yes but not exclusively. I might need him during investigations as well or to woo some favours from women."

"You do know our answer is no right?"

Sherlock shrugged. "Cost nothing to ask and anyway, you'll see Sherlock Jr will ask to come with me soon enough. Aren't you, baby? Of course! Uncle Sherlock will teach you everything he knows."

Molly leaned closer to Mycroft and whispered. "Is it weird I actually find that quite cute?"

"If you weren't weird, you would have never picked me." Mycroft moved his head to kiss her soundly on the lips.

"Please do restrain yourself in front of the baby. We wouldn't want him to end up in therapy."

Mycroft rolled his eyes but remained silent.

Sherlock looked up at the clock and sighed with clear disappointment. "Lestrade is waiting for me at the Yard. I'm already late." He resumed staring at the sleeping infant, and made no move to leave however.

"You know you can see him whenever you want right?" Molly encouraged. "I will be back at the Estate tomorrow and the door will always be open. Whenever you want to spend time with us, just come."

Sherlock finally returned the baby to Molly. "I might pop over tomorrow night. Just to see how Sherlock Jr. is settling in."

"You know his name is not Sherlock, don't you?" Molly said reaching for her son, before leaning back against Mycroft.

"It is to me." Sherlock grinned. "Anyway, enjoy your son until he likes me better than you." Sherlock adjusted his coat. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to confront a criminal."

"He is going to spoil our child rotten, isn't he?" Molly asked when the door closed behind Sherlock.

"Without a doubt." Mycroft confirmed, wrapping his arms around Molly and their son. He kissed the top of her head as the baby started to stir in her arms. "I love you, Molly Holmes. Thank you for giving me a family."

"And thank you for being the man I always thought you were. I am a lucky wife and he is a lucky boy. And also ..."

"Also what?"

"You know I didn't mean it right?"

"Meant what, my dear?" Mycroft asked unable to contain the smile in his voice. He knew only too well what she meant.

She cleared her throat. "The sex thing – I didn't mean it."

"Oh? To be honest I knew you couldn't get enough of my body." He teased.

She shook her head and looked fondly at the baby. "Daddy is crazy isn't he? Yes he is, and Mummy loves him so much more when he is a doofus."

"Oh Molly, Molly, Molly, Molly," Mycroft said it in a sing-song voice, resting his cheek on top of her head. "Everything that happened between us was unexpected and yet I wouldn't want it any other way. You are my life. You and Matthew."

"And you are ours, Mycroft. Try to keep safe for us, okay?"

Mycroft smiled. Now was the perfect time to tell her about his retirement. "Speaking about safety, I have big news for you."

The end!