HAPPY NEW YEAR

Just a little Sherlolly fic to celebrate Series 3. Also hastily written and edited on no sleep (haha). Hope you guys like it.

I own nothing. Everything belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss. If I owned Sherlock and Molly Hooper, then there would be a lot more Sherlolly in the show. All mistakes are mine. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.

Sherlock stared at Molly's sleeping form. Should I or should I not?

They had spent New Year's Eve with their friends. Their passionate kiss at midnight earned whoops from John, Mary, and Lestrade. Once the guests left 221B, he and Molly took the after-party to their bedroom.

His gaze fell on the suit jacket. He smiled at the memory of Molly taking it off him and throwing it on the floor. Fortunately for him, her focus on undressing him prevented her from hearing a soft thud as the suit jacket landed. He gently lifted her arm from his midsection and set it on the bed. He watched as she turned to lie on her back. Satisfied that she wouldn't wake, he slid off the bed and took something from the inside pocket of his jacket. He sat on the bed with his back against the headboard and gazed at Molly. He fiddled with the small item and tried to come to a decision. She'll likely get mad at me. Yet she'll probably be happy. Should I do it then?

He considered texting John, but he didn't want his best friend to yell at him on the first day of the year. A moment later, he grabbed his mobile from the bedside table and sent him a text.

John, I need your help. - SH

His phone vibrated two minutes later.

Not tonight, Sherlock. We're sleeping. - JW

He softly cursed and stared at Molly again. Oh, well. It's now or never. He opened the small box and removed its content.

He tentatively placed his hand on her shoulder and gently shook her. She didn't wake. He shook her shoulder a little harder. Nothing. "Molly, wake up," he said in a low voice.

Her eyes fluttered open. "Wha––" She shut her eyes and opened them again. "Is everything OK, Sherlock?"

His brows furrowed. "Of course everything's OK. I just need to ask you something."

She rolled to her side and stared at him. "What is it about? If it's about Toby, then my answer's the same. No, you will not experiment on him."

"What? No, it's not that." He reached for her hand and linked his fingers with hers. "I… We have been together for about a year. It's amazing how well we've navigated this relationship despite my limited knowledge in romance. Clearly, we are perfect for each other." He gave her a solemn look. "You know me - you see me - better than anyone else. I can't imagine being with any other woman. And I hope you feel the same way."

"I do," she said, her voice soft and her tone gentle, matching the expression on her face. She sat up and kissed him.

Relieved, Sherlock smiled and, after releasing her hand, he rose from the bed. He quickly moved to her side and knelt before her. When he saw the confused look on her face, he immediately remembered how John did it and raised one knee. He took her hand with his and held up the object in his other hand.

She removed her hand from his grasp and covered her mouth. Her eyes widened in shock. "Sh-Sherlock?"

He took a deep breath. "Molly Hooper, I love you. And I will spend the rest of my days making sure that you know how much I love you." He took her left hand and brought his mother's diamond ring closer to her finger. "Molly Hooper, will you marry me?"

Molly let out a sob and pulled her hand from his grasp. She brought her hands to his face and kissed him. When she pulled away, he saw the tears streaming down her face and reached to wipe them away. "Yes, Sherlock. Yes! Of course I will marry you," she answered, the joy in her eyes and in her smile warming his heart. "I love you."

He slipped the ring onto her finger and kissed her briefly before climbing back to bed. He lay down and she curled up next to him, laying her head on his chest. "Molly? I have one request, though. Please don't make me dance at our wedding."

She giggled. "We'll talk about that in the morning. Let me go back to sleep first."

He sighed. "All right." He smiled at his fiancée. "Good night, Dr Molly Holmes."

She kissed the spot where his heart would be. "Good night, Mr Sherlock Holmes," she whispered before pressing her cheek against his naked chest and closing her eyes.