She shouldn't have been having such a great time. She was at a wedding, one of the most romantic of events, but she had no date and all the people she called friends were there with someone. And Sherlock had turned up with Irene Adler. There ought to have been awkward moments, pitying glances thrown her way, but she didn't experience anything like that. Instead, she was having a ball!

The events leading to and after Moriarty's face was broadcast had been traumatic enough for any sane person to want to move to the Arctic, with polar bears offering warm company. But then the Holmes boys and John Watson were never accused of being sane. This time defeating the Moriarty twin proved to be much tougher than earlier and it took all their combined wit to defeat him. Irene Adler proved invaluable; the special subterfuge she employed to get key information tidbits proved vital. All of them along with, unknown to Molly, Mary Watson, had proved to be a very formidable team and had overcome their toughest adversary to date.

Still, Greg's engagement to his girlfriend of a month came as a surprise to her. But then it really shouldn't have. People have different ways of reacting to traumatic events and Greg was someone who grabbed the bull by his horns and lived to tell. So the fact that his wedding and especially the reception, turned out to be such a lively event didn't surprise anyone. Neither did Irene's appearance as Sherlock's date. The chemistry between the two was there for the whole world to see; especially after the embrace they shared once the Moriarty twin was vanquished. Molly and the others had been witness to that event and somehow, she had dealt with it in her usual empathic manner, understanding that they had just escaped from death's clutches only because they had been able to depend on each other. That was about a little more than a month ago, and she had not seen Sherlock till the wedding.

If her heart broke, she hid it well.

So as she danced away with Dimmock and some other sergeants she knew from the Met, no one could have guessed that a battle raged inside her; even Molly.

As she skipped a dance to catch her breath, the tone of the music changed to a slow one on the newlywed's demand. As Norah Jones's velvety words started pouring out, pleading to be loved tenderly, Molly suddenly felt breathless. She excused herself and went to the ladies room. Splashing some water on her face seemed to help a bit. But she could still here the love song being played, so she locked herself in a cubicle, selected a rock song on her phone and pushed it against one ear, plugging the other ear with her finger.

As the rock beats drowned out the soft tunes, Molly was able to breathe. This seemed like a panic attack, brought on by Norah Jones singing Love Me Tender. As laughter threatened to bubble out of her mouth at the ridiculousness of it all, she hurriedly left the cubicle and again washed her face. Thankfully a lively dance number was playing now and she ran into Mary as she was leaving.

"You ok?" Mary gently inquired. Molly had a slight bemused look on her face as she replied, "I am fine, why do you ask? Considering the amount of beer intake, it had to come out too you know". She giggled a bit at her own poor joke. Mary just nodded, adding," Whenever you want to leave…." As Molly heard the next number being played, she replied," Oh looks like that will be quite late. I HAVE put on my dancing shoes tonight and am having such a great time."

Waving Mary off, she rejoined her partners on the dance floor, grabbing one more beer as she went. Time flew as she danced on, also partnering John a peppy number, that had her adding one more exemplary quality to the doctor's long list of exemplary qualities. She was actually enjoying herself; so much so that she removed her shoes and danced away bare feet.

And then the DJ played a slow number again.

As she started feeling the familiar tightness in her chest and felt more than a little breathless, she grabbed her shoes and turned to go to the ladies room again. When she saw Irene heading in and Sherlock waiting for her, Molly turned around and headed to the terrace outside.

The cold felt good, the air helping her breathe and the doors muffling the sounds. She walked further ahead, towards the surrounding gardens and sat on a bench, put her phone to one ear and again blocked the sound out with some fast music. As the love song ended and fast music sounded again from the closed doors, she felt much better and decided to head inside. Taking a deep breath, she got up and turned to go.

She yelped when she saw Sherlock standing a few feet from her, the expression on his face unreadable. They stood staring at each other for a moment, before she found her voice.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that", she admonished. "You were a bit audibly….isolated", he said. "Huh?... Well, I better get inside. Are you coming in or are you waiting for company?" she asked as she started moving around him and towards the doors. "No, not waiting; waited long enough I think." She paused and turned to look at him, a frown on her face.

His face was still a mask, but something in his eyes changed as he offered her his hand. "You want to practice your dance steps with me before you hit the floor, is it? I see that you have been warming the benches all evening. I though you liked dancing…or is this music not up to your refined taste. Has Irene finally managed to convince you that its rude not to dance on your friend's wedding? I can imagine she mustn't be too easy to turn awaaa…."

With an exasperated sigh, Sherlock had moved towards her, grabbed her by her waist, with the other hand turned on the music on his phone, put it back in his coat pocket and grabbed her other hand. "Stop talking Molly, you are blabbering", his tone wasn't unkind.

As the familiar tunes of Love Me Tender started, Molly felt something like a panic attack approaching. As she tried to move away from Sherlock, he tightened his grip and pulled her closer, moving his hand to her back. Her voice had a quiver when she told him to let her go. He didn't respond; the look on his face serious, a small frown on his brow but his eyes….his eyes were warm and soft as they ever were. "Breathe Molly, just breathe," he said softly.

Molly couldn't look at him anymore and rested her forehead on his chest, hiding her face. The tightness in her chest increased, making breathing difficult. As she choked in a tearful breath, Sherlock gently rubbed her back. Slowly and steadily, tears started falling on her cheeks and onto Sherlock's shirt. She was almost sobbing now and trying to move away, but he refused to let her go. She then realized that she was clinging to him, holding his jacket lapels in a death grip. She wouldn't let go, couldn't let go.

Through the haze of her tears, she could feel herself being enveloped in his warmth. She felt herself relax slowly, realizing belatedly how stiffly she had held herself.

The song continued to play on loop, surprising her.

Sherlock then rested his chin on her head and started moving slowly. Her sobs had receded but she didn't move away or even look at him. He continued to just hold her and move to the slow tune. It took some time for her to be able to breathe normally, to loosen her grip on his jacket. As she tried to move away, Sherlock held her back.

As she finally turned her face up to look at him, she was surprised to see the softness in his eyes. "Oh Molly…" was all he said before his head descended and he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. To say that she was stunned would have been an understatement. He had a slightly amused look on his face as he gazed at her face. His smirk faded as he kissed her again, this time with much more intensity than before. Molly slowly responded, hands holding on to his shoulders for support, more scared than she had ever been in her life. But at the same time, the tightness in her chest was fading away.

This was Sherlock, kissing her, holding her close to him and it all felt like a dream. But she could hear the sounds from within the reception hall, the dance music being played…so no, this wasn't a dream.

The kiss ended and he moved his hands from her waist to her face, the look on his face taking her breath away. No words were needed to be said out loud. His beautiful eyes were looking at her with all the love in the world. She was sure there was some explanation to all this but at that very moment, she just didn't care. She just had one question, "How…?" He rested his forehead on hers, and whispered, "I had heard you discussing your choice of songs with Mary before her wedding." She nodded mutely, but then had to ask, "Irene?"

"She was helpful to take Prof Moriarty down. The kiss was pure adrenaline, nothing more. Besides you are more her type than I am. I had a tough time keeping her off you." He added with a twinkle in his eyes. She shook her head slowly, still in daze.

As the song repeated again, Sherlock whispered in her ear, "Molly, will you dance with me?"

"Always!"