This scenario is dedicated to simplyshelbs16, who made a comment that I should re-create the scene, after I talked about the way Sherlock threw his flower to Janine, and wondered if it would have been for Molly if she had not been engaged.

Molly was almost at the end of her work day when she heard Sherlock's text alert. She went over to her phone and saw the message.

"Operation Sherlock Holmes reception scenario is go. Wait for further instructions."

Molly couldn't help feeling a ripple of excitement run through her. It had been several days since their last scenario. She and Sherlock had looked on Amazon to find a maternity dress that would be appropriate to wear at a wedding. Overkill just for a little play-acting? Maybe. But one never knew. Perhaps she would need a maternity dress for a wedding or special occasion one day in the future.

Sadly, there had been no yellow floral print maternity dress that looked similar to the dress Molly had worn for John and Mary's wedding, but that wasn't really the point of the exercise anyway. The floor length gown they chose had a floral print, and was green with pink and cream roses. It was off the shoulder and had a train as well. The best thing was, it was cheap, so even if she never wore it again, it wouldn't be a waste of money. As soon as it arrived in the post, Molly had tried it on, and Sherlock had nodded approvingly.

"You look beautiful." And she felt beautiful in it.

Sherlock had ordered a boutonnière from the sane florist they had ordered their own wedding flowers from. With his excellent memory recall, she was sure he had been able to perfectly duplicate the one he had worn for John and Mary's wedding. Apparently he had picked it up today.

Another text alert sounded and Molly looked at it.

"When you get home, go into the bathroom and get ready. Dress is in there, plus a bow for your hair."

Molly smirked. He wanted her to wear a bow in her hair, just like she had done before. She texted him back with a smiley face.

She was just getting ready to leave when another text came in.

"Bedroom is off-limits."

Intriguing. What did her adorable husband have up his sleeve? Whatever it was, it was sure to be wonderful.

One final text came through as Molly was leaving the hospital. She waited until she was seated on the Tube to read it.

"Don't forget to use the loo. We don't want any inconvenient bladder urges to interrupt our scenario." Molly chuckled at that, which earned her stares from a few other Tube riders.

At home Molly called out to Sherlock, "Are you here?"

"Where else would I be? Didn't you read my texts? Don't come in," came his response from the bedroom.

"Alright," she responded, going to the bathroom. Sherlock had hung her dress from the shower curtain rail. She took off her clothes, including shoes and socks and put on the dress. They never wore shoes or socks for these scenarios inside the flat. Too much trouble to take them off later.

After using the loo, per Sherlock's instructions, and good ones they were too, Molly left the bathroom and stood at the bedroom door.

"Sherlock, where am I sitting? Or am I standing? How are we going to do this?"

His rich baritone voice cane through the door, thrilling her senses as usual. "You were standing at the reception, but I don't want you to over-exert yourself, so just sit on the sofa. You can stand once I've finished playing my violin."

Molly rolled her eyes at his over-protectiveness, but really, she was glad of it. She obediently made her way into the sitting room, sat on the sofa, and waited.

She heard the bedroom door open and suddenly, the sound of violin music filled the air. Molly had been expecting Sherlock to play the piece he had written for John and Mary's wedding. She was touched to hear it was instead the beautiful piece Sherlock had composed for her, for their own wedding day.

When Sherlock entered the room, she caught her breath. He was wearing what looked like the exact same ensemble he had worn for the wedding of his best friend, tailcoat and all. He must have hired it, she thought. Her heart started to pound. He looked so gorgeous, and his violin playing was incredible. Molly felt quite light-headed. And his eyes locked on hers, not straying once as he played the piece to perfection, just for her.

A knock sounded on the door, and a head popped in.

"Hello dears," said Mrs. Hudson. "I heard the lovely music and..." Her voice trailed off, as she took in the sight of Sherlock in his elegant attire, and Molly in her long gown.

"Oh..." breathed the woman. "I'm interrupting something, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," said Sherlock rather sharply.

Molly stood. "It's okay Mrs. Hudson. I should have locked the door if I didn't want us to have company. I'm getting quite as bad at it as Sherlock is."

"Please just go away now," said Sherlock, trying to push the elderly woman out the door. Molly gave him a stern look. "Bit Not Good?" he questioned a bit too innocently.

"You got it in one," she answered, turning to Mrs. Hudson. "I apologize for my husband's behaviour. You know Sherlock. He tends to be single-minded about things when he has a plan of action."

"Yes. I apologize, Mrs. Hudson. I was not anticipating an interruption. Would you mind terribly much if my wife and I can get on with it?"

The landlady gave him an assessing look. "I'll go. I think I might put on some loud music too, just to make sure I don't hear any uh, sounds of passion coming from your flat. I'm an old woman you know. I might get heart palpitations."

Molly blushed furiously while Sherlock snorted. "The day you are fazed by the sounds of a little lovemaking is the day you leave this earth behind."

Mrs. Hudson smiled. "You may be right. Nevertheless, I feel the need to turn up the volume on my radio to drown out your...violin playing, shall we say?"

"You do that," growled Sherlock, ushering her unceremoniously out of the door, then locking it securely.

Molly didn't know whether to be highly embarrassed or laugh at her husband's impatience.

Sherlock huffed in annoyance. "Everything is ruined now."

Molly went to him and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Of course it's not ruined. You can just start over. But before you do, I just want to tell you how incredibly sexy you look."

"You think I'm sexy?" He brightened.

"Of course you are - sexy, hot, gorgeous, and very tempting besides," she told her ridiculous husband, offering him a chaste kiss on the lips this tine. She did not want to let things get out of hand before they could actually finish their little scene, if indeed Sherlock was willing to start over.

Loud music started to play from downstairs. Some kind of heavy metal? Who would have thought it of Mrs. Hudson?

"Well, Mr. Holmes, are you going to take advantage of our relative privacy from being heard, or are you going to just stand there?" she asked with what she hoped was a sexy pout.

"Molly, don't look at me that way, or I'll take you straight to the bedroom and scenario be damned!"

"Sherlock! Language!" said Molly in mock offense. He tried to curb his language and be a good Christian husband, but once in awhile he slipped up and that was okay. She didn't expect him to be perfect. And he only swore when he was passionate about something, or like the time he leaned down to get something off the floor then banged his head pretty hard on an open cupboard door. Yup, that had elicited the "f" bomb. He had looked at her in acute embarrassment, but she had laughed it off. She was no prude. She had even been moved by anger and fear to say, "For Christ's sake Sherlock, this is not a game," when he was killing himself with drugs in order to get at Culverton Smith.

No, Sherlock wasn't perfect, but he made every effort to be as close to a model husband as he could be, and she appreciated that fact.

Molly sat back on the sofa and put her hands in her lap. "I believe you were playing my song?"

Sherlock took up his violin again and began to play. Surprisingly, the music, at least to her mind, completely obliterated the thumping drum and bass sounds that were emanating from Mrs. Hudson's flat.

Molly sighed happily when he had finished and stood up. "I'd gladly listen to you play that for me every day," she said, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

Having put down his violin, Sherlock was busily unpinning his boutonnière from his jacket. "For you, Molly," he said softly, tossing it gently to her, and she caught it.

"Thank you, Sherlock. This is so...unexpected."

He walked towards her and lifted her hand to his lips. "I've been looking at you all night, Molly. May I have this dance?"

Bringing her closer, he began to waltz her around the room, humming "The Blue Danube," to keep them in time. He stopped humming and waltzing. Then he lifted Molly's chin. "I've been wanting to kiss you all night. May I do so now?"

Molly felt heat rising within her at her his words. If he'd really said those words to her at the wedding reception, if she hadn't been engaged to Tom, where might it have led? She nodded her assent and Sherlock kissed her.

He kissed her as if it was their first time, gently pressing his lips to hers with a closed mouth. Then he applied slightly more pressure, opening his own mouth and inviting her to do the same. Molly's mouth opened beneath his, her arms went around his neck, and she held him, even as he moved his hands to encircle her waist. He could not wrap his arms around her as tightly as he had once done, due to Molly's expanding girth, but it still felt so good.

Sherlock raised his head slightly to murmur, "Molly Hooper, you have the most kissable lips, ever. I could find myself lost in you." He dipped his head once again and resumed kissing her. This time his lips burned with urgent need. Molly could feel her heart thumping, matching the rhythm of the beat from Mrs. Hudson's flat.

Sherlock's hands went to her shoulders and massaged them. Molly was very glad of the off-the-shoulder neckline, which afforded him access to her bare skin. She could feel her knees growing weak. Massages always did that to her. She vaguely wondered if she would have been so easily seduced if Sherlock had tried this before they were married, this combination of seductive kissing and massage. Yes, Sherlock had done a similar combination during their engagement, but he had obviously been holding himself back. This was so...sensual.

He moved his lips from hers and traced a line down her neck, then to the point of one shoulder, repeating the action to kiss his way along her other shoulder and Molly started to tremble with need.

"Molly," he whispered in his deep voice, looking at her with eyes that were dilated with the desire he felt, which undoubtedly mirrored her own. "I don't want to play anymore. I'm going to carry you to the bedroom now. Close your eyes and don't open them until I say so."

Molly looked at her handsome husband in surprise. This was something new.

"Come on, love. Close your eyes," he said insistently.

Molly did as she was told, and she felt him lift her up. Being held by him made her feel so safe - his arms were so strong, so secure.

As they reached the door of the bedroom, Molly could smell flowers, roses. It was a rather odd thing to smell in the middle of winter. Had Sherlock sprayed some perfume?

He released the arm that was holding her legs aloft so she could stand. That rose smell was pervading the air.

Then he told her, "Open your eyes, my darling."

Author's Note: what does Sherlock have in store for Molly.

What did you think of Mrs. Hudson's surprise appearance and Sherlock's reaction? How about her putting on loud music?

Updated for corrections and better writing flow 6/23/18