Special Note 3/17/19: New cover image courtesy of thefabulous Elizabeth Robello!

It was a cold day in mid-January, and Sherlock had been out at New Scotland Yard, helping Greg solve a murder case. He had done so quite efficiently, and decided to stop in at the hospital, because Molly's shift was almost over.

Making his way up to the lab where she would undoubtedly be, he pushed the door open and stood there nonchalantly - for about thirty seconds. At his wife's obliviousness to his presence, he eventually cleared his throat to indicate his presence.

Molly finally looked up from the microscope through which she had been examining a slide. "Sherlock! I wasn't expecting you."

"I finished up at the Yard early. Thought I'd stop by and accompany you home." He walked towards her.

"Hold on. Let me just finish up here and I'm all yours."

He stopped walking and waited patiently till Molly stripped off her gloves, made a few notes on a report and filed the slide away in a drawer. She washed her hands and went over to him, giving him a kiss of welcome. "I'll just get rid of my lab coat and we can go."

They were on their way home when Molly asked, "Do you have anything planned for this evening?"

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. "Why? Are you asking me out?" he questioned with a smirk.

"In a manner of speaking. I thought we'd do our next re-creation."

"And what memory are we re-writing this time?"

"You know. The one where you told me I mattered. The one that ended in you leaving me alone, after you had asked me if I wanted chips."

"Darling, you keep forgetting why I did that."

"Yeah, yeah, I was engaged to someone else, as you've pointed out several times."

"Well, it is the truth."

"Yeah, I know," she huffed. "Anyway, we can talk about it more when we get home."

Inside the flat a short time later, Sherlock seated himself in his favourite chair, while Molly outlined her plan.

"So, that conversation took place in a hallway walking downward and at the bottom of the stairs. I think we can use ours here."

"And if Mrs. Hudson should see us play-acting, what do you think she will say?"

Molly waved him off. "Details, details. Let's just assume she won't."

"Just in case, I suggest we keep any hallway interactions to a strictly PG rating."

Molly snorted. "I'm not that desperate for you that I'd strip you naked in the hallway just to have my way with you." As if to belie her own words, Molly crawled onto his lap, straddling him, so she could talk with him face to face.

Sherlock gave her a very seductive look. "Shouldn't I be doing the stripping YOU naked to have my way with YOU, rather than the other way around?" He ran his hands up and down her back, feeling his own body's automatic response to her closeness.

"Sweetheart, this is the twenty-first century. I may be a good girl, but if I can't be a bit naughty at times with my husband, life would be pretty dull."

Sherlock murmured in a deep voice, "Am I to assume you will be the one to initiate any further interaction at the conclusion of the scenario?"

Molly shrugged. "I don't know - you, me, what does it matter? The only thing that matters is the end result." She glanced at him coquettishly.

Oh Lord, he thought. She is doing this to me on purpose. All that sexy talk. He gave himself a mental shake, trying to force down the desire spreading through him. "Perhaps we need to return to the subject at hand. Are we following through with getting chips afterwards?"

"Definitely. I want my date with you that I never got."

"Engaged, Molly." He tapped his ring finger meaningfully.

Molly pouted. "You know, I never thought to ask before, but why didn't you figure out I was engaged until that precise moment? You are usually so observant."

"Two words - gloves and invitation."

"That's three words."

"Good Lord, sweetheart, must you be so literal? You don't count the 'and.'"

Molly grinned. "I was just teasing. The gloves I understand, because I was wearing them when I came to the flat at your request, and perhaps you just weren't looking at my hand later. But invitation? What's that supposed to mean?"

"When I asked if you would like to solve crimes, you thought I was going to ask you to have dinner. Not exactly something I would expect you to have in the forefront of your mind as an engaged lady."

Molly blushed. "I was just so excited you wanted to see me that I wasn't thinking straight. I forgot I was engaged to someone else."

"I'm glad you never forgot you were engaged to me," he remarked dryly.

Molly rolled her eyes at him. "Like I could ever forget being engaged to the man I had won after seven years of unrequited love."

"You know, you won me a lot sooner than that, I just didn't know it. You'd won my heart already that day in the hallway. That first Christmas, when I thought you had a boyfriend, I was jealous. I wouldn't have felt that if I didn't have an emotional connection with you. If that blasted text hadn't come in when it did, perhaps things would have been different with us already back then."

"Oh yes, the famous Irene Adler. Pardon me for despising the woman. How dare she try to seduce you!"

"Well, she was not successful, as you know."

"Lucky for you, we've already made a new memory from that Christmas, completely ignoring that text from her."

Sherlock put his arms around her. "And a very nice one it was too." He gave her a long, lingering kiss that left her breathless. "You are the first and only woman I've been with, just as I was your first. That, in and of itself is pretty special as far as I'm concerned."

She rested her forehead against his. "I know. Everything new we experience together is a first for both of us. Maybe that's why I feel like I can be a little naughty at times. You have nobody to compare me to, or to find me lacking in any way."

"Oh, Molly," he breathed. "I love my little naughty angel." He brushed her lips with his, then traced a path down her neck, pressing kisses all the way to her pulse point which he could feel was throbbing erratically beneath the skin.

He rather liked her straddling his lap, it put her at a more comfortable height for his caresses. More tongues of fire flickered within him as he casually slid his hands under his wife's blouse and jumper, making his way up towards her bra with a single purpose in mind.

Molly squeaked in protest and hastened to get off his lap.

He groaned in protest. "Can't we finish what we started? I am being brought back to mind of the cold showers I had to endure during our engagement, every time you tempted me beyond reason."

"That is entirely your own fault," Molly said unsympathetically. "I was just innocently sitting on your lap."

"Straddling my lap, baby. That's an open invitation in my book."

"Sherlock! Behave yourself. There will be plenty of time for you to have your way with me - later."

Sherlock pouted. "Why not now AND later?"

She looked at him crossly. "We haven't finished discussing the scenario yet, and we're running out of time. Victoria and I are in need of those chips."

"No dress rehearsal for this scenario then?" he asked sorrowfully.

"You can hardly call what you were - are wanting right now a dress rehearsal. We weren't even running our lines."

"I could do that if it would change your mind - 'Moriarty made a mistake, he slipped up. Because the...'"

Molly put her hand across his mouth. "Not happening. Besides, I need to go to the loo and then get dressed in the same clothes I wore that day. Oh, and keep your coat on, of course. Get your mind palace in gear while you wait, to make sure you remember your lines."

"Bossy much?" He muttered and she glared at him, before dissolving into giggles.

"I AM bossy aren't I? Guess you must like strong women."

He nodded solemnly. He did like it that she was not afraid to speak her mind to him. Years earlier, in the beginning, she had been like a puppet who danced when he pulled her strings, but his Molly was a strong, feisty little vixen these days. And sometimes a naughty little one at that, he told himself, feeling a sudden jolt of desire hit him again. Calm yourself, Sherlock, he thought. There's plenty of time for that later.

She turned to leave, but he stopped her. "Why don't I hold onto your rings for safekeeping while we do this? We have to keep in character, and you said you wanted the re-creation to be minus the engagement ring."

"Oops, you're right." Molly slid off her rings and handed them to him, then left.

While she was gone, Sherlock went to a drawer in his desk and pulled out a little box that had been hidden in the corner. He picked up the object inside, finished his task and waited.

Author's note: I always did kind of wonder about Sherlock not realizing Molly was engaged. With that quick glance downward, after he said, "You made it all possible," I do think that was the first time he realized she was wearing a ring. Agree? Disagree? I'd love to know.

Are you looking forward to part two? Will the scenario turn out as well as Molly hopes?

Any thoughts on what Sherlock got from the drawer?

Updated with a couple corrections 6/22/18.