Author's note: This story contains references to events and situations which have occurred in my post TFP story, A Journey to Love, Faith and Marriage. For the full immersive experience, I highly recommend you read that, (yeah, I know it is very long), and its sequel Journey through a Wedding Night first.
Please note also the M-rating. Honeymoons tend to involve a lot of, well, you know what, and my version of Sherlock and Molly waited for the blessing of God on their union before being intimate. So I'm sure you can imagine they would be quite anxious to enjoy this new aspect of their relationship quite frequently and in, um, various locations. If love scenes are not your thing, you might be better off skipping this honeymoon story. However, as usual I must remind my readers that I stick to sensual, I do not write explicit scenes.
Sorry also for the delay. It's a lot of work to get a chapter ready to publish, and I had a rather busy weekend so my editing/proof-reading schedule is very behind right now. I love the writing part, but editing is a very tedious, time-consuming process.
Update 10/30/18: Credit for my new cover image goes to myqueenismollyhooper on Tumblr. Isn't she talented with this manip? It's a perfect, romantic picture of my OTP as I see them!
Sherlock's internal alarm woke him soon after eleven. He was pleased to discover he felt reasonably rested. It was still a little hard to believe that he and Molly were actually married. The weeks before the wedding had seemed to pass so slowly and yet their wedding night had sped by.
He breathed in the scent of Molly's hair as she lay cuddled up against him. It was much better now that it had been washed. That hairspray had not been as tantalizing to his senses. He drifted his hand down along Molly's body and she stirred. "It's time to get up, sweetheart. We have a honeymoon destination to get to."
Molly's eyes fluttered open and she turned her head slightly to gaze at him directly. "Are we really married, or am I dreaming?"
"Does this feel like a dream?" Sherlock asked, before pressing his lips against hers in a lingering kiss, while his fingers danced along her skin, tickling her rib cage.
Molly pulled her mouth away from his to shriek with laughter. "Stop it, Sherlock, that tickles!"
Sherlock grinned at her. "I thought it would be nicer than pinching you to prove you weren't dreaming."
"Point taken. This is no dream, and our wedding night was just perfect, as I knew it would be." She stretched languidly and he looked at her in appreciation. That sweet body of hers was now his, just as he belonged to her. He understood now what it meant to become one. Much as he would have liked to stay in the bed and make love again, Sherlock knew they had to get up and get things together to leave. There would be plenty of time once they reached the bed and breakfast to be together.
After they were dressed in the clothes they had packed in the overnight bag, and had retrieved everything else from the room, including the sapphire and diamond necklace and the earrings, which Molly placed in her white handbag, then tucked into the overnight bag, Sherlock commented, "I'm going to call the chauffeur now and then I will call for a porter to carry out your wedding dress and veil to the limo."
He did so and ten minutes later they were heading downstairs and into the foyer. Sherlock turned in the room key cards and they headed outside to the waiting limo. There were several people around now, unlike the previous night, and Sherlock had the feeling there would be photographs of him and Molly in the papers the next day.
Once they were safely settled in the limo with Molly's wedding gown along the long seat as well as Sherlock's tuxedo, he took her in his arms and kissed her. They spent most of the thirty minute journey kissing or talking about the events of the previous day.
When they arrived at the private airstrip, Sherlock realized the last time he had been there was when he had been headed to Europe on his one way mission. When they got out of the limo, Sherlock groaned. Of course, he thought rather balefully, he would have to be here to make one last inappropriate comment.
"Hello Mycroft," Sherlock said in a flat monotone. He was holding Molly's hand and she squeezed it.
"Ah, brother mine, I'm so glad to see you have survived the night." Was there a twinkle in Mycroft's eye?
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Enjoy having your fun, Mycroft, because you'll have no reason for it in the future."
Mycroft walked in a circle around him and Molly, inspecting them. "I must say, there does seem to be a glow about the two of you. I trust things went...well, last night?"
Sherlock clenched the fist that was not holding Molly's hand. She seemed to sense his irritation and interposed quickly, "Thank you, Mycroft. It was absolutely perfect, and we are looking forward to our honeymoon." She tilted her head slightly and gave Mycroft what Sherlock could only describe as a charming smile. "Do you think we could get to it now?"
"Of course, sister mine. I hope you don't mind if I call you that?" Mycroft lifted an eyebrow in question.
Molly's eyebrows lifted a little in surprise, and she beamed at him. "Of course not. I've never had a brother."
Sherlock was relieved when Mycroft said his goodbyes so they could climb aboard the small jet. The only annoyance about the aircraft for Sherlock, was the fact that he and Molly could not sit together. There were seats that faced each other however.
"Molly, would you like to sit with your back to the front of the plane or facing forward?" he asked her. "I will do either just so we can see each other." Then he added slyly, "Of course, once we no longer need seatbelts, I'll be expecting you to sit on my lap."
He was quite pleased that she accepted his statement without protest. Molly thought a moment then suggested, "If I'm going to be sitting on your lap, we might have a little more privacy with a rear facing seat, so why don't you take that one and I'll face forward?"
Sherlock nodded at his clever wife. "I like that idea very much."
The plane ride was to be a relatively short one, only about half an hour in actual fact, once the plane was airborne. As soon as Sherlock and Molly were able to unfasten their seatbelts, he gestured to her, tapping his knees. Molly obligingly planted herself sideways on his lap, clasping her hands around his neck, and he began to kiss her, delighting in the strawberry flavoured lip gloss she had used. This was much more fun than heading off to parts unknown alone, he decided. Daringly, one of his hands moved to caress Molly's chest, over the fabric of her blouse.
"So, my love, would you like to become members of the mile high club?" he asked suggestively, before nipping at her earlobe.
Molly squirmed slightly on his lap, causing his body to react in its usual manner. "How have you even heard of that term?"
Sherlock thought for a moment, trying to ignore that part of himself that seriously craved entrance to the mile high club. "It was a passing comment Mary made to John one evening when they were discussing their honeymoon."
Molly tipped her head to the side and looked at him curiously. "Are you saying they are members?"
Sherlock gave a short laugh and stroked Molly's back. Her chest area was definitely off-limits now if he wanted to stay sane. "No, no. This was before the wedding, and I believe Mary was only joking." His lips twitched, just a little, as he added truthfully, "Of course, I had no idea what she was talking about, so I looked it up on the internet later."
Molly laughed and bent forward to kiss his lips lightly. "I love your innocence, sweetheart. You are so knowledgeable about so many things, but when it comes to sex topics you are like a babe in the woods."
Sherlock pouted. "I guess you have corrupted me then, because all the things I once counted unimportant have come to the forefront, thanks to you." He slid his hand across her back again. "Anyway, you haven't answered my question – yes or no?"
She raised her hand to run a finger along his cheekbone. "Not today, Sherlock. I'd like to have some energy when we arrive at wherever it is we are going."
Sherlock was about to pout again, but then suddenly realized she had not shut him down completely. "So, on the way home maybe?" he asked hopefully.
Molly giggled. "Maybe."
So he contented himself with merely holding her close and kissing her. He would not have been able to do that if they had been driving to their honeymoon destination.
When they arrived at the Wellesbourne Mountford Airfield, it was to find a car waiting for them, as Mycroft had promised, and soon everything was packed and they were sitting in the car, ready to go.
The airfield was only a fifteen minute drive from the bed and breakfast in Stratford-upon-Avon. Sherlock withdrew his phone from his pocket and went to Google Maps, then put in the address. "You can be my navigator," he told Molly, extending the phone to Molly.
She raised an eyebrow and took it. "So I'm finally going to find out where we are going?"
"Go ahead, you can look at the map." He put the keys in the ignition and started the car.
Molly looked at it, then gasped. "Stratford-upon-Avon! I've always wanted to go there." She slid a glance over at Sherlock, who had not yet begun driving, wanting to see her reaction first to their location. "I hope this means we will be going to see at least one Shakespeare play while we are here."
That is the plan," he said, then added cheekily, "unless we spend the entirety of our honeymoon in our room making love."
Molly giggled, and placed a hand on his leg, a little bit higher than necessary. "I think we are going to need to recharge at some point, but not for a couple days at least."
"If you don't take your hand away from my leg now, we won't be headed anywhere anytime soon," he warned, giving her a smouldering look, and she blushed, withdrawing her hand to settle it primly in her lap.
"I'll keep my hands to myself until we get to our destination, but then all bets are off," she informed him, darting a glance at him from beneath her lashes. Oh, but he adored that combination of innocence and sexiness she exuded without even being conscious of it.
"I like the way you think, Mrs. Holmes," he remarked, giving her a sidelong glance, before he began to drive in the direction indicated by his phone. It was already after one o'clock and his stomach was beginning to protest the extended period of time since their last meal the night before. "Much as I hate to say it, I think we should stop somewhere and get something to eat before we go to the B&B."
"Sounds good to me," agreed Molly. "Those peanuts on the plane were not really enough to sustain me. Come to think of it, I'm really hungry." She gave him an impish look. "I think we burned an awful lot of calories last night as well."
He ventured a smirk in her direction, before returning his attention to the road. "Indeed."
A few minutes later, Sherlock turned onto Sheep Street. "That's a funny name for a street,"commented Molly. "And look, there's a place named Lambs Restaurant!"
"It's closed though. It seems like a lot of the places around here are closed on Sundays," he remarked, driving slowly down the street before spotting something that was open. "But here's one that's open."
Sherlock parked the car out front and they walked into The Opposition Bistro.
Once they were seated, Sherlock looked over to Molly and raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you want a full meal or should we just go for something light and come back to this area for dinner later?"
Molly looked down at the menu, then back at him. "I'm pretty hungry, but I don't really want to have two big meals in one day, so why don't we just go for something like chips?" she suggested.
Sherlock chuckled. She knew him so well. "You know I never say no to chips."
"Maybe we can get dessert as well afterwards?" pondered Molly aloud, as she looked at the menu once again, then up at him for his response.
"Okay, we'll get some dessert here and then we will have some more dessert at the B&B we will be staying at." He gave Molly a suggestive wink and she blushed.
After their meal of chips, Molly selected banoffee pie from the menu, while Sherlock choose caramelised hazelnut parfait. They shared both desserts and were quite satisfied by the time they had finished. Sherlock was definitely feeling as though he was ready for a different kind of dessert.
They were soon headed back to the car and on their way to their final destination. When Sherlock drove into the empty parking lot of the bed and breakfast, Molly leaned forward in her seat and commented, "That's funny. Surely there are other people staying here?"
"Maybe other people are coming from their wedding night as we are and are running late?" Sherlock suggested with a shrug, pulling into one of the parking spaces and cutting the engine. He looked at the building and remembered reading that there were six bedrooms, so it was fairly small and intimate. It was on a large property surrounded by a park with trees at the outer edges of it.
They got out of the car and walked with linked hands through the front door and encountered a small reception desk, behind which a dark-haired woman was sitting. She looked up and smiled as they entered. "Hello there! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. Welcome to Shadyside Guest Cottage. My name is Kara."
"Thank you, Kara," said Sherlock, smiling at the friendly woman, who looked to be in her late-forties. "We are very much looking forward to our week here."
"You are booked into the Imperial Room, however, feel free to check out the others if you would prefer a different one. The place is yours for the week," Kara said, smiling at the newlyweds.
Sherlock and Molly looked at the woman in surprise. "There are no other guests?" asked Sherlock, casting a quizzical glance at the woman.
The woman seemed slightly confused for a moment, then her face cleared. "Oh, I remember now. You did not make the reservation yourself. The gentleman who made it, paid for the whole week and all the bedrooms." She paused for a moment, narrowing her eyes and drawing her brows together in concentration, before she continued. "Oh, yes, I remember him saying something about his brother needing a lot of space."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" he said to Molly quietly. "After all, he booked the whole box for us when we went to the Paramore concert."
Molly leaned her head against his shoulder. "Your brother is an amazingly generous man, even if he likes to hide that nature with his prickly exterior."
Kara waited patiently for them to finish their quiet exchange, then put in, "In any case, as I said, you may use whichever room you would like. Breakfast is usually laid out in the dining room from eight o'clock onwards each morning. However, as you are the only guests this week, I will be on hand to personally prepare whatever you wish, whether it be pancakes or bacon and eggs, even a full English breakfast if that is what you would like. I can also prepare a picnic hamper for you and blankets if you would like to do that for lunch. Just let me know the day before and it will be ready for you in the morning. My husband and I live in a little cottage at the end of the drive, so we will only be a phone call away if you need us."
Sherlock nodded. He was very pleased that he and Molly would have complete privacy. He was looking forward to spending time with her and not having any other distractions around. No more interruptions from Mycroft or Mrs. Hudson. That was definitely a plus. Of course, those interruptions had all been fortunate and timely, but now that he and Molly were married, well, he certainly would not appreciate any of those in the future.
Kara handed them a brochure which contained information about local places of interest including the Royal Shakespeare Theatre. "This brochure will give you some ideas on places you might like to visit while you are here. Now, if you come with me, I'll show you to the Imperial Room," Kara said, and they followed her upstairs.
When Kara opened the door to the bedroom, Sherlock was impressed by the king sized mahogany bed. The room was decorated in gold and cream colors and Sherlock could see double doors opening onto a balcony which overlooked the park beyond.
"I love it!" exclaimed Molly, looking about the room with wide-eyed enthusiasm that made Sherlock want to kiss her. "Sherlock? What do you think?"
"I think this room will suit very nicely," he answered, looking at the inviting curve of Molly's lips.
"Wonderful," said Kara. "If you give me the key to your car, I can have my husband bring up your suitcases shortly. Then I will be back in the morning to prepare breakfast. Here's the card with the phone number for our cottage if you need anything."
"Thank you," said Sherlock, turning his attention back towards the proprietor as she spoke and taking the card from her. "I would like to take you up on your offer for a picnic hamper for tomorrow if that would be okay?" He felt Molly slip her hand in his and he looked at her. Her smile almost dazzled him.
He fished in his trouser pocket and handed the car keys to Kara.
"The picnic hamper will be ready for you in the morning, no problem at all,"responded Kara, with a quick nod. "I'll just get Martin to bring up your suitcases now."
"Just one suitcase and one overnight bag actually, and they are both in the boot," Sherlock informed her, and the woman left the room.
"While we wait, we might as well explore a little, don't you think?" suggested Molly, tugging on his hand.
"Sounds good to me." Together they walked to the double doors. He opened them and they went out onto the balcony, surveying the lovely park outside. There was a pond almost directly beneath the balcony.
"I wonder if there are any fish in it?" Molly mused, peering over the railing.
"We can ask the man when he brings up our suitcases. What was his name?" He thought for a moment. Something that started with M. He was pleased with himself when he suddenly remembered. "Martin, that was it."
Molly gave him and admiring look. "I'm impressed. You only heard the name once and you remembered it. Looks like the mind palace is getting back to full operational status," she quipped.
Sherlock laughed. "Even before you started consuming my thoughts, I had trouble remembering names. But on that front, I have actually been improving significantly over the last couple of months, as you know."
Molly nodded. "I remember telling you that you have improved on that because you care about people now in a way you didn't in the past."
Sherlock raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You're good for me, Molly, my love."
Together they looked at the private bathroom with the tub which was every bit as big as the one in the Ritz. "We will definitely have to make use of that. I quite enjoyed the bath we had together in the early hours of this morning," commented Sherlock, sending a smouldering glance his wife's way.
"Me too," agreed Molly, pressing her cheek against his shoulder, as a knock sounded on the door to the large bedroom.
Sherlock opened the door to admit a middle-aged man with hair that was just beginning to grey at the temples. He held out the suitcase, overnight bag and car keys to Sherlock. "Here you go, Mr. Holmes. I hope you and your wife will enjoy your stay. My wife will be up here in the morning to make your breakfast, but I'm sure she already told you that."
"She did indeed," said Sherlock, taking the items. "Thank you very much. I don't anticipate there will be any problems, but I have the card with your number if an emergency arises." Then he remembered Molly's question when they had been looking outside a few minutes earlier. "By the way, are there any fish in the pond around the back?"
Martin nodded. "Yes, there are some decent sized Koi in there. Right then, I'll be off. Goodbye for now Mr. and Mrs. Holmes."
Sherlock watched the man as he headed down the stairs, then closed the door to the bedroom and locked it. Molly had just headed to the bathroom, no doubt to use the toilet. While she was in there, Sherlock opened the suitcase and fished out from the bottom the bag with the lingerie items he had purchased a few weeks earlier. He set them on the bed, then went to the bathroom himself as soon as Molly exited.
"What's this?" Molly asked, gesturing at the bag, when he returned to the room. She was perched on the edge of the bed and he went to sit beside her. "Something I bought for you a few weeks ago. It's a present – for both of us."
He pulled out the three clear bags containing the babydolls from the bag - the black, the red, and the purple one.
Molly drew in her breath. "You bought these for me?" she asked in astonishment.
"Well I certainly didn't buy them for Mrs. Hudson, sweetheart," he told her as his lips curved upwards. "I was hoping you might try one of them on for me."
"Now?" She peeked at him from beneath her lashes.
"No time like the present." His gaze swept over her as she sat there on the bed in far too many items of clothing. He lowered his voice to its deepest pitch. "It's time to get this honeymoon properly started, my darling."
Molly sucked in her breath, then withdrew the three babydolls out of their clear protective plastic bags. "They are all lovely," she told him, fingering the fabric of each, then leaned in to give Sherlock a kiss on the cheek. "Which one should I wear?"
He raised his hand to cup her chin and draw her lips to his for a much more satisfying kiss. Then he whispered in her ear, "Surprise me."
Her voice was a little breathless as she answered, "Alright, then." He watched as Molly took the lingerie to the bathroom, then removed his shoes and socks, and lay back on the bed, waiting with great anticipation for his wife to return to him.
Author's note: So, Mycroft had to tease his little brother one last time. Did you expect anything else? Were you scandalized by their conversation on the plane?
Finally Molly will get to wear that lingerie Sherlock bought for her months ago, ooh-la-la - which one will she choose?
As you know, I try to research and authenticate my stories as much as possible to keep them realistic.
Credit for the name of the airfield goes to Ashblood who told me Stratford-Upon-Avon does not have an airfield of its own and found the name of the closest one, Wellesbourne Mountford Airfield.
Street names and locations are factual. The only thing that is not, is the bed and breakfast, which I made up.
