One year ago today, Sherlock had been detoxing from the nightmare case of saving John and stopping Culverton Smith. He had gone to have cake with John and Molly, his two closest friends. It had been nice—well, as nice as it could be. There was still an underlying tension between him and Molly; an unsolved mystery. He was ashamed for how he had acted toward her in the ambulance that day. He had been crass and inappropriate, unbuttoning her cardigan and making suggestive comments.

Currently, it was his birthday once more. In fact, it was nearing two in the morning when he woke suddenly from the memories that plagued his mind. Molly's breathing pattern changed, alerting him to the fact she was also awake.

"Happy Birthday, love," she spoke softly, cupping his face before pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

"Thank you, darling," he replied, thankful she was here with him.

"What's wrong?" she asked with concern.

"I don't think I ever apologized for what happened in the ambulance," he answered. "I'm sorry, Molly."

"Come here," she told him. He moved closer to her, laying his head over her breast. Her fingers played with his curls, calming him. "I forgive you. I forgave you long ago. I know your birthday doesn't hold the best memories, but I don't want you to think of it that way. Today is a day for celebration."

"Why's that?" he questioned.

"Because forty one years ago today, the man I fell in love with was born. And that's pretty special to me," she smiled. Sherlock turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the swell of her breast, nuzzling her with his nose. It didn't take long for it to escalate. They made love slowly, taking their time playing around before joining together. Molly wanted to draw it out for as long as possible, wanting to show her husband how much he meant to her, how much she loved him.

"Happy Birthday, Sherlock," John called out as he strolled into 221B. "I brought Rosie and—" he stopped short, eyes widened at the sight before him. Sherlock and Molly were cooking breakfast together; a proper English breakfast. It was still strange to see him so domesticated, but it was a nice change of pace.

"Thank you, John," Sherlock replied. "How's my favourite goddaughter?"

"Unca Wock!" she struggled in John's arms, reaching out to her godfather. She was handed to Sherlock who was more than happy to hold her.

"She's your only goddaughter," John pointed out.

"John, would you like some breakfast?" Molly asked as she prepared plates.

"Just ate actually, but thank you," he replied. "I just wanted to stop by before running some errands. Oh, Molly, I have this for you." Sherlock watched with curiosity as John handed her a manila envelope that she left on the counter. Molly came over to press a kiss to Rosie's head of blonde curls before going back to tend to breakfast. "Rosie and I will see you two later for cake." And with that, John left and that's when Sherlock pounced.

"What's in the envelope?" he asked.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," she smirked. "First, breakfast." He sat down, begrudgingly, and Molly laughed at the childish pout on his face.

"When can I find out?" he questioned her further.

"Tonight," she answered. "You have another gift first."

"So whatever's in that envelope is a gift? One that you and John conjured up together no doubt," he deduced. It took all she had to not choke on her food. She and John did not 'conjure' anything together.

"No deducing!" she scolded him. "Please, Sherlock? Just this once. I really want to surprise you."

"Okay," he agreed. "I'll try my best not to, I promise."

After breakfast, Molly had gotten changed into jeans, a grey jumper with kittens on it and her pink and blue striped scarf. Her hair was up in a ponytail as if she had planned to work today.

"Did you get called in?" he asked.

"Nope," she smirked, popping the 'p' the same way he does. "Get dressed, mister, Lestrade will be here in a couple of minutes."

"And what exactly are we doing?" he inquired.

"I found a case for you. Well, for us. It may just qualify as a ten," Molly replied.

"Molly Holmes, I love you! Thank you!" he kissed her firmly but quickly in excitement. She giggled at his enthusiasm as he went to change. When Sherlock returned, Lestrade had just walked through the door.

"Many happy returns!" Greg greeted him. "I thought this case was obvious, but Molly convinced me that there may be more to it than meets the eye. Heiress Millicent Ashworth of the Ashworth Estate was murdered and her fortune was left to a man she only met two weeks before."

"And you believed this man was the murderer." It wasn't a question. "Too obvious. There must be a reason for her choice of inheritor."

"Fancy a trip to the Ashworth Estate?" Molly asked, almost as giddy over it as he was.

"It's a date," he smiled.

"Only you two would call this a date," Greg chuckled.

Author's Note: Woo! I'm gonna attempt a real case lol!