A/N: I'M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY, BUT I HAD A BAJILLION TESTS AND I HATE SCHOOL SO MUCH.

But here it is! This is the last chapter, sorry guys! But feel free to submit suggestions for a new story through PM or tumblr! :)

"What a surprise, little brother!" Mycroft drawled, then paused. "I was expecting you."

"Find Molly," Sherlock gritted through his teeth.

"Funny thing, you know. You calling," Mycroft ignored his question nonchalantly, "You normally text."

"Where. Is. She. You know where she is!" Sherlock nearly yelled, grabbing his gun and shooting at the smiley on the wall in frustration.

Mycroft brought the receiver away from his ear as the gunshot sounds resonated through the earpiece.

After a moment of silence, he gingerly brought it back to his ear.

"You know, this wouldn't be a problem if you would just explain yourself."

"I swear I will never solve a case for you again if you don't tell me where she is," Sherlock threatened in a low, dangerous tone.

Mycroft just sighed. Thank goodness. His little brother was finally gaining some perspective. If he had his way, they would have had their wedding a year ago.

Perhaps they would still have it yet.

"Paris," he simply stated.

The other line went dead.

She slowly strolled down the Pont Neuf, feeling the wind slap against her unbound hair. Wrapped in a thick coat, she could barely feel the winter chill but for the stinging on her cheeks.

Life was great, right? She didn't need Sherlock. She could etch out a living here, find another morgue, or perhaps she would finally get to playing the cello on the streets like she had always wanted to try. She would own a little flat with flowers on the windowsills and a little twin sized bed and the romance books Sherlock never let her read (they would rot her brain, he said) stacked up on her bedside table. She didn't need him.

Stopping in the middle of the bridge, she stared out at the waters.

"She did a favor for Mycroft, who then promised her three solved cases. That's why I had to go," a familiar voice sounded next to her left shoulder.

She didn't reply.

"You've changed your hairstyle. You've never worn a braid before. It looks good."

Molly simply continued to ignore him.

"Molly," she could hear the frustration in his voice, "Answer me."

It was a moment before she responded.

"I thought – I thought it was a good idea to change my hairstyle. Sort of symbolic of my new life. I've thought about it, you know. Living here. Never going back. I could be happy."

"Molly," Sherlock grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him, his voice slightly higher pitched.

Pupils dilated. Nostrils flared. Arms shaking. Fear.

She lowered her eyes, refusing to meet his. She turned her head toward the water again.

"I think you've rubbed off on me, Sherlock. And maybe I've rubbed off on you. Since when did you feel fear?"

"Since you left me," Sherlock's voice shook, "Molly, LOOK AT ME."

She snapped.

"What, Sherlock? Go back to solving your cases. You never needed me anyways. I was always just a prop to you. You said habit was a dangerous thing. We –" she paused and gestured to them both, "– are just a habit."

"No," Sherlock sighed, "you're my sentiment. And I'm willing to be the losing side if that's what it takes to get you back. Molly, I love you."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, the shock registering in her system. He loved her? The great Sherlock Holmes actually loved Molly Hooper, the mousy pathologist?

Sherlock shuffled his feet, looking a bit nervous. Molly simply stared. He never looked nervous.

"Molly, I haven't said it because I wanted to save it for a special occasion. I've never said that to anyone before, and I wanted it to be special," he spoke rapidly, nearly tripping over his words.

Then, to her utter shock, he got down on one knee, in front of all the passersby who had stopped to stare and then gasp in excitement.

He pulled out a velvet box from his pocket, opening it to reveal a jade ring.

"It was my grandmother's," he explained, "I thought you might appreciate the sentiment. I even had to go beg my mother for it," he tried to elicit a bit of sympathy from her expressionless face.

He took a deep breath.

"Molly Hooper, I used to think you were just a tool to get body parts from –," he winced as the people around them gasped in shock and horror, "– but, subconsciously, I began to collect bits of pieces of you in my mind palace. I never meant – never meant to keep the way you smell or the way you bite the left side of your lip when you're nervous in my memory. I thought I could avoid love forever, it was just an easily understood chemical process that I could control and manipulate. I didn't mean to fall in love with you. And I didn't mean to mess everything up. I thought everyone was stupid for caring about social convention as long as I could give them the answers they wanted, even when John told me time after time that I was pissing everybody off. It didn't matter. They didn't matter. But you do. More than you'll ever know," he finally paused for breath, "I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, then all at once,"

He noticed the flicker of recognition of her favorite quote in her eyes.

"Molly Hooper, will you marry me?"

She saw the uncertainty in his eyes. Uncertainty. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen that from him. He was always so sure, so confident in his abilities. She wanted to laugh and cry and jump for joy and just collapse and never get up all at the same time at watching Sherlock like this. Her Sherlock. Her stupid, great lug of a genius.

"Yes," she cried, and Sherlock jumped up, pulling her close and smashing his lips over hers as the crowd around them cheered.

They didn't see Mycroft standing a little distance away, leaning on his black umbrella, a smirk on his face.

Now for answers to some reviews...

SammyKatz: UGH OK THAT'S SUCH A GOOD IDEA I MIGHT USE THAT FOR THE NEXT STORY BUT I HAVE TO WATCH MORE DOCTOR WHO i've only watched 2 seasons so i don't him that well but yes hubba hubba

Crooney83: thanks so much for commenting i've seen you several times but im a newbie to the site didn't know all the ins and outs T_T but yes i've wrapped it up XD haha i was so afraid i would leave some detail just hanging so i hope this ending works for you? It's all mycroft's fault :P

Guest: On the advice with his relationship - oh man you guessed it so I couldn't use it anymore, haha can't make it expected :P But i made sherlock a little more of a better person I guess because I personally would be pissed off at him if he was asking relationship advice from her so now he's a victim! :)