Hey look, a new story!
To be honest I don't know why I wrote this because lord knows the last thing I need on my plate is another story but I promise this one is actually already written and the only thing I'll have to remember is getting on to post. It's just some fluffy fun inspired by the sitcom Rules of Engagement because engaged/married Sherlolly is just adorable and so much fun to write! And I promise I'll do my best to try and post a chapter each day, and if not at least every other day. There are ten of them, a fairly short story but should be a fun ride nonetheless.
Please enjoy and let me know what you think!
I own nothing.
Rule 1: Dead bodies are not romantic, and the morgue is probably not the best place to bring up the idea of spending the rest of your life together.
Rules of Engagement
Some people would probably say that conversations over a dead body aren't romantic and if they were anybody other than Sherlock Holmes, they would be right.
He kept his eyes glued on Molly as her delicate hands worked swiftly and she bit her lip in concentration, a habit she'd had as long as he could remember. Every once in a while she would lift her eyes away from her work, cheeks blushing furiously when he smiled at her. It was something she never seemed to grow out of regardless of their relationship and sometimes he wondered what it was about him that was able to earn a reaction like that.
As she began to sew the body back up Sherlock cleared his throat, discreetly slipping one hand into the pocket of his coat. Molly glanced up with eyebrows knit together and wondering smile tugging at her lips.
"You've been awfully quiet," she commented, her fluid motions almost hypnotizing.
Sherlock shrugged and kept his eyes down. He knew if he wanted to do this, it was best to just go for it.
"As you know we've been together for quite a while now and from what I've observed over the years people who are happy together normally take the next step when it comes to spending their lives with one another. Although how they don't find that utterly dull I'll never-"
"Sherlock love, were you working up to something here or are you just thinking out loud again?" She hid a grin as Sherlock sent her a glare, slowly revealing his hand from the inside of his pocket and at the sight of the black velvet box Molly stopped, hand poised in the air as her mouth hung open.
He toyed with the box as he held it in his hands and the sudden wave of heat that had washed over him was foreign, something akin to feelings of sentiment if he had to guess. John wasn't here to explain to him after all. While he had definitely seen a change in himself since taking the next step in his relationship with Molly Hooper there were still some aspects of people that were lost on him, sentiment being one of them.
He knew he loved Molly and anyone who hurt her or made her cry could be sure that the actions would be reciprocated (to a much higher degree of course), but he had trouble expressing himself in a way that didn't bare the cold outer shell he had been showcasing for as long as he could remember. It was a miracle in itself that Molly was able to put up with him but since the day she had agreed to kill him without a second thought things seemed to change and his feelings had turned on him. While it was in no way an unwelcome thing it was surely unexpected.
When Molly had finally regained some of her composure, although her mouth still hung slightly open and she had yet to finish sewing up Mr. Hughes, she looked at Sherlock with questioning brown eyes.
"Is that what I think it is?" one gloved finger pointed in the direction of the box and Sherlock turned it over once more, flipping open the lid and looking back at Molly as if waiting for her approval.
The ring was gorgeous, a gold band with a thick, pale pink pearl placed in the center and surrounded by a dozen shimmering stones. It was old that much she could tell and she couldn't help it when a laugh escaped her lips. Of course a laugh wasn't what Sherlock was hoping for and his expression morphed into one of horror (or as close as you can get with Sherlock Holmes), and he shut the box quickly.
"You don't like it." It was in no way a question but instead a blatant statement and it broke Molly's heart when she realized she had hurt his feelings. She immediately lay down her tools and peeled off her bloody gloves, tossing them in the garbage and moving to cup Sherlock's face, making him look down at her.
"You are a bloody idiot if you think I don't absolutely love it." She grabbed the box from his hand and opened it, smiling at the ring before looking up again. "Where did you get it?"
"It was my grandmothers; she gave it to me long ago and instructed me to 'give it to a special girl.' I took it to be gracious but I had no intentions of ever putting it to use…marriage was never something I saw for myself but I look at John and Mary and I see how happy they are and I want you to be happy. You saved me and I owe you more than you'll ever know. Which is why it would be the greatest of honors, Molly Hooper, if you would let me be your husband." He swallowed thickly and picked up the ring, grabbing Molly's hand and gently sliding it on. A perfect fit.
It was no surprise to him that there were tears in Molly's eyes and she laughed again as she held her hand up to the light, admiring the jewel and the way it looked on her finger. He reached out and pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head as she wept with complete joy until she squirmed out of his embrace and pulled him in for a kiss, their lips meshing perfectly.
"Of course you nut." She brushed a curl out of his face before she looked at him pointedly. "And for future reference Sherlock, I know I spend all day around these corpses but it isn't what I would call a romantic location for a proposal."