She walked up to the small hospital room, hesitating at the sight of the door before placing her palm on the silver handle. She pressed it downward, shifting her weight to open the door, careful not to damage the yellow and pink tulip bouquet in her other hand.

She stepped into the room, studying the figure in the hospital bed. Sherlock Holmes, lying still, with machinery around him, and the comforting beeping reassuring his beating heart.

She found a spare vase in the room, went to the bathroom to fill it up with water and returned to find the detective awake and his hand reached out, stroking the petals of the tulips she left on his night stand.

"Hello, Molly…" He says without even looking at her.

She puts the vase by the window and walks to the side of his bed. Sherlock's eyes remain fixed on the tulips while she grabs a chair and sits down.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

He pulls out a yellow tulip petal, twirling it in his fingers and finally looking at her.

"I could ask you the same thing." He responds.

She smirks.

"I'm not the one who's been shot. Twice, in one month."

"Well, April has never been a good time of the year for me."

She smiles again, dropping her eyes to look at her hands.

"Molly."

She looks up and meets his eyes. "Hmm?"

He placed the petal in one hand, and reached out the other hand to her, she slipped her palm into it and let his fingers wrap around her hand.

"Sherlock," She sighed "I-I don't know how to thank you."

"You could give me unlimited access to the morgue."

With a smile she said "I'll see what I can do about that…" a bit mockingly.

Sherlock smiles, and strokes her hand with his thumb.

Molly closes her eyes.

"He's gone?" She opens her eyes, fixed on his. "Moriarty. He is gone, yes? For good?"

Sherlock brings his other hand, places the yellow petal in her palm and cups her hand in both of his.

"Yes, Molly Hooper. You're safe. He'll never hurt you again."

She breaths in and releases a long breath.

"Thank you."

Sherlock smiles, reaches a hand to her hairline and pushes a strand behind her ear.

"I saved you. For once it was I that saved you…" He stroked her cheek.

"My Molly…"

She dropped her eyes, reached up to grab the hand he stroked her cheek with, and stood from her chair.

"No Sherlock," She stepped closed to the side of his bed.

"It's the other way around…" Molly sat at his bed side.

"You," She leaned close "Are my detective."

When her lips were mere centimeters away from his, he extended his neck.

They kissed. Lips closed and pressed softly against each other. They pulled away momentarily, and briefly looked into each others eyes, searching for any possible hint of regret. When none was found she reached her hands and cupped his face to kiss him again, his hands stroked her arms as he pressed his lips back upon hers.

And meanwhile, a man and a woman with light hair stood at the entrance to Sherlock's hospital room. The Watsons both carried an expression of shock, mouths


agape and eyes wide. They looked at each other, then at the other couple in the room. Within a second, Mary began jumping up and down, holding back a cry of excitement, pulling at her husband's sleeve while he still stared in disbelief.

Mrs. Watson hopped out of the room, jumping up and down and dragging her awed John out of the room.

"Come on John," She whispered "Sherlock needs his Molly for a little while…"