Note from author: Hi, this is just some fluff I came up with off the top of my head. This is my first story, and it isn't very long. Please be kind. I hope someone enjoys it.


It was an average day despite the fact that Sherlock had been away for so long.

He was in the lab again, and his eyes were glued to a microscope. Every so often his figures would twist and turn the knobs until the picture was exactly how he wanted it. Molly stood a short distance away from him, checking over a clipboard. She couldn't stop her mind from drifting away from the board in her hands, and wondering where he had been. Perhaps he hadn't received a case in a while, but wouldn't the boredom have brought him here? She sighed a bit before accepting defeat. Holmes was nearly impossible to figure out sometimes.

"Molly," His deep voice cut through silence, "Can I ask you something?" His eyes stayed focused on the microscope as he spoke. Molly held the clipboard close to her chest as she looked his way, "Of course, Sherlock. What do you need?" She quickly went through a mental list of bodies that had recently come into the morgue, but none of them seemed like something Sherlock would be interested in.

Maybe he was stressed and-no, that couldn't be it, he did not bring his riding crop or anything of the sort.

"Would you be in my wedding?"

Molly's heart sunk. Was that why he had been away for so long? Sherlock had been off with a woman, falling madly in love, and planning a wedding? Molly managed to stutter out her quiet reply, "You-you're getting married?" She tried to keep a small smile on her face, but the corners of her lips kept falling.

He still had not looked up from his slide, "Yes, I believe I am. Will you?" It took her a moment more, but she was able to pull her thoughts together. "Yes, what part would you like me for? I'm not very good with flowers, I can't even grow a weed. And I'm afraid I buy most of my cakes from the little shop down the street, the last time I tried to bake a cake-"

Sherlock finally pulled away from the microscope and shook his head, "No, no, none of that." Molly frowned, once again feeling defeated, "Then what?" He was now looking directly at her. "As the bride, of course." A small, crooked smile formed on his lips.

How rare, she thought to herself about the smile. But then it really began to sink in. The bride. Her heart began to race, "W-what?" She couldn't believe her ears.

Her eyes found the ground for a moment as she tried to control herself. When she looked back up she saw that Sherlock's arm was reaching in her direction, "I asked for the blood sample slide, of course." Molly pursed her lips and handed him the slide, "There you go." She had been caught daydreaming again. How embarrassing, she thought. Sherlock exchanged the slides with a sigh of irritation, "Honestly, I don't know what goes through your head sometimes. You or John."