A/N: For the January 4th prompt: "A year after your death..." Rated K.


Molly Hooper stood in front of the polished black headstone, seeing the reflection of herself in her jeans and oversized yellow jumper. She swallowed hard. "It's been a year, Sherlock," she said to his carved name. "A year since you…" Molly took a deep breath then smiled weakly. "I wanted to tell you that I've met someone. His name's Tom. He's … nothing like you. He's sweet … not that you can't be sweet."

"I really, really can't, Molly," drawled a familiar voice behind her.

Molly whirled around to see Sherlock standing under the nearby tree. He was dressed in khakis and a blue chambray shirt, his black curls replaced with straight ginger hair and matching stubble. Molly's face lit up as she saw he was apparently unharmed. He didn't move but she ran to him and hugged him tightly anyway. After a moment, he held her close.

"Has it really been a year?" he whispered into her hair. "It feels like an eternity."

"Longer," Molly whispered. She pulled back enough to look at him. "But what are you doing here? You're not done?"

"No, I'm not," Sherlock said quietly, "but I had to see you." He smiled weakly. "And it looks like I'm just in time. Molly … this year of playing dead has taught me what I truly need in my life, and you are at the top of the list. Will you wait for me?"

She wanted to say yes more than anything, but one thing was holding her back. "For how long?"

"A year, eighteen months at the most. Moriarty's web will be completely dismantled by then." He raised a hand to stroke her cheek. "I will come back and the first thing I'll do is drag you to the nearest church."

Molly grinned. "Believe me, Sherlock, there will be no dragging necessary." She kissed him softly. "Yes, I'll wait."

Sherlock grinned. "That's the best news a dead man could get."