Several hours later Molly was peeling latex gloves from her fingers, frowning at the lab results in front of her. Sherlock leaned against the stainless steel counter, attempting to control his impatience. He flipped a Petrie dish over and over in his hands, foot tapping lightly. Energy and tension hummed through his frame as he surveyed Molly's expression.

"I trust now that you have ruled out my proposal was not drug-induced."

"You're clean," she said, perplexed.

He raised his fingers and ticked off the different excuses she had made.

"As we have ruled out drugs, pranks, boredom, bets, dares, or that it's for a case, could you please consider the idea that perhaps I am sincere?"

Colour rose in Molly's cheeks. He admired the effect, assuming she was coming round to his way of thinking when he realized that she was upset.

"You mean consider that you... want... to marry me," she stated quietly. "Sherlock, you've never shown the slightest romantic interest in me before. Why would you think this is a good idea?"

She pulled her lab coat tighter, and crossed her arms across her chest. Her eyes were guarded, evaluating him. He tried to emote convincingly, but was out of his depth. Molly saw through too much of his bullshit to try to overact with her.

"I'd like you to be life partner. Permanently. I take oaths seriously, and I would fulfill all my duties as husband more than adequately. I have the utmost respect for you, you are honestly, just the, the, this is silly, but the best person I know. And I find myself interested in you sexually. This is new to me, I'm not sure how one usually expresses this interest politely, so I apologize if that sounds rude."

There was a long silence. Sherlock cleared his throat and played with his wristwatch. Molly was giving him a hard, steady look.

"All the sudden you fancy me, and you think we should bind ourselves to each other for life."

"Quite."

"Let's take as read that I still have a romantic interest in you, which considering I took a sexual partner less than twelve hours ago is a big assumption, what makes you think that skipping straight ahead to marriage is wise?"

"Skipping what? We live together comfortably when I'm at your flat, we have compatible interests, and we enjoy each other's company. What's left? All that boring couple stuff?"

She sighed.

"Yes, Sherlock, all that boring couple stuff is necessary. It's how you decide whether you actually want to be someone's partner until death do you part. It's how I knew Tom wasn't the one after all, it's important."

"But I'm not Tom, I'm the original."

"The what?"

"No, nothing, I misspoke. What I meant was, what would need to occur for you to be convinced that we should marry?"

"Sherlock, why this emphasis on marriage? Let's trying, you know, dating, see how it goes?"

"When one is dating does one usually abstain from having other sexual partners?"

Immediately regretting his miscalculated words, Sherlock watched fury explode in Molly's face.

"This is about last night, isn't it? You don't want to marry me, you just don't want me to be with anyone else! Why? Does it upset your ordered world, me having a life outside of you? Do you expect me to join the Sisters of Saint Sherlock?"

Sherlock raised a hand like it could protect him from the fire she would like to have been able to breathe.

"No," he said quickly, "no, that's only half true." She cocked an eye brow and he knew he was on extremely dangerous ground. "I realized last night that I wasn't happy with you having sexual partners, but it was because I would like to be your partner."

"So you were jealous, and thought you'd just lock that down."

"I thought you'd be flattered," Sherlock said, frustrated.

"Because the great Sherlock Holmes has noticed me after all these years?"

"Give me your conditions for marriage and I will meet them. I want to be married to you, Molly. I want to build a family with you, have a future with you alone."

She froze.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Because I want to!"

"Why do you want to?" She asked cautiously. He turned his back to her, bracing himself on the counter top.

"I don't know. Sentiment. Mycroft is going to die laughing. Perhaps that's reason enough."

"You're missing something huge, here, Sherlock," she said gently. "Something critical."

He mentally reviewed his list of reasons to marry Molly, and found it complete.

"What?"

"It's something you'll have to figure out for yourself, and until you do my answer will stay no."

He let out a low growl of frustration.

"I'll do the boring couple stuff," he offered. "Just tell me what to do."

She pulled a pad of notepaper to her, a small wry smile forming while she wrote.

"If you're serious," she said finally in a playful tone that loosened some of the tension in his shoulders, "this is a start."

He read the list, committing it to memory. In the front entrance of his mind palace he set up a large display easel, with the list in pride of place, written in Molly's own curving hand.

"I would like to make a counter offer on item seven," he said calmly.

"Oh?"

"I would like to complete item seven once we're married."

"Why?"

"Closet romantic."

"I would think it wouldn't be quite so important to wait after Janine. Didn't she vanquish that dragon?"

Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Don't believe everything you read in the papers."

Molly smiled, but didn't tease. My, my, still the blushing virgin.

"So what is your counter offer?"

"Sexual activity short of intercourse?"

"Acceptable."

"Some of these can be handled fairly easily," he said, typing rapidly on his phone. Molly's phone gave a gentle buzz in the pocket of her lab coat. She slipped her hand into her pocket, and in the device saw an alert for an email titled "Item Four: Sherlock's financial statement".

"I don't mean that I want a financial statement from you, I mean before people get married, they need to know how their future partner handles money. If they're responsible, what their habits are, if and how they plan, and what their goals are." She squinted, reading the text in her email. "How did you have that ready so quickly?"

"Mycroft has one sent to me monthly," he shrugged. Molly frowned. Sherlock frowned at her frown. "Not good?"

"We'll discuss it."

"Does this count as item six?"

"No, it's a discussion, not a fight."

"I'm unclear why a fight would be required before we marry. Isn't the absence of fighting more beneficial?"

"I'm not talking about something horrible, just that partners need to know how their partners argue, how they react during a serious disagreement. It'll happen eventually."

"So all this occurs on these necessary dates."

"Yes, Sherlock," she explained patiently, turning to clear away the tests. "I'm not going to marry you until you figure out what's missing, but accomplishing the list will better your chances of getting there."

Sherlock emptied the jars for her, since it was his own grudgingly supplied home brew, and got the lab glass set for sanitization.

"Molly, can I take you out for dinner tonight? On a..." The word stuck in his throat. Why couldn't she just agree to be his forever without all this procedural fuss? "Date?"

She smiled, sealing the autoclave.

"That would be lovely."

"And after the date, may I come back to your flat?"

He hated himself for blushing.