Day 4
"Nana, please tell us the story again." William begged.
"Will, I have just told you the story last night." Molly said, smiling at her eldest grandchild.
"Please, please, please, nana." said William, now joined by his sister and their little cousin, the 9-month old baby lying in the baby carriage who just kept babbling not knowing what the people around him are saying, but decided to join them nonetheless.
Molly and Sherlock were now living in the country house Sherlock inherited from his parents. Their children resided in London but came to visit every two weeks. Molly was sitting in the living room, on the plush couch and surrounded by her grandchildren. William, the eldest, was a spitting image of his paternal grandfather Sherlock Holmes. One of the things he inherited from his grandfather was his obsession with nearly everything that caught his eyes and attention, and William's new obsession was "the life story of nana Molly and grandpa Sherlock."
"Please, nana. One more time." 8-year old William repeated, quite excitedly.
"Yes, nana, please." Maria, his younger sister followed.
"Yes, nana. Please. We do enjoy when you tell us the story." A familiar voice interrupted the younger ones and Sherlock appeared at the door, holding his beekeeping mask in one hand, and with his other hand two yellow flowers.
"Who are the flowers for, grandpa?" asked Maria, running to greet her grandfather who placed the mask against the wall.
"One for my little princess." he smiled to his granddaughter, offering her one of the flowers. Maria picked it, then threw her little arms around her grandfather's hips shouting, "Thank you, grandpa. It's so beautiful."
Sherlock chuckled softly, patting her head gently with his free hand. "What about the other flower?" Maria asked curiously, raising her head to look at her grandfather.
"Now the other flower is for nana" Sherlock said, looking at Molly, "But only if she tells us the story."
"Yes. Yes. Tell us. Tell us." William turned his head back to Molly. And was soon joined by both Maria and Sherlock who walked to the near-by armchair and sat on it, picking Maria up and placing her on his lap. The three of them soon turned into a chorus, repeating, "Tell us. Tell us." And Molly couldn't find it in her heart to deny them. She raised her hands in a surrendering gesture and said, "Alright, alright. I will tell you."
Sometime later
"So, did you really get grandpa off a murder charge?" asked William, his eyes wide, as if he was hearing the story for the first time, not the hundredth at least.
"No, William, of course not." Molly said, laughing.
She was telling them about the story of the Reichenbach Falls, when Sherlock was framed for kidnapping and murder by James Moriarty.
"He didn't do it, of course." Molly continued, "But he was accused of murder and needed help to prove his innocence because the real criminal was really smart, despite being evil."
"So you did actually get him off a murder charge." William insisted.
Molly sighed and said nothing, instead looking at Sherlock and smiling knowingly.
"There was no murder charge, William, and please refrain from accusing me when I am sitting right here with you." Sherlock said, raising his eyebrow, though deep inside, he was proud of his grandson. Not for accusing him of murder, of course, but for wanting to know everything and understand everything. He was truly going to be the world's next consulting detective. The new William Sherlock Siger Holmes.
A chip off the old block. The grand-old block in that case.
"What about the other part, grandpa?" asked Maria, turning her eyes to her grandfather.
Well, that was truly what a granddaughter of Molly should be like. The innocent face and chocolate-brown dreamy eyes. Always more interested in the romantic parts of the story, though she was only 7 years old.
Sherlock acted like he was thinking deeply, "Which part do you mean?"
"The part where you ask for nana's help." answered Maria softly.
"Oh, that one." Sherlock smiled warmly, raising his eyes to look at Molly, who was watching him intently.
Silently, Sherlock picked Maria up and placed her on the floor on her feet, then got up from his chair. He slowly walked to where Molly sat, surrounded by their two other grandchildren, then he dropped to one knee beside his wife, and GOD that was painful!
Damn, I am not a young man anymore.
Sherlock took Molly's hand in his, kissing it softly before starting, "I waited for her in the lab, I couldn't forget the look on her face or the tone of her voice when she said that she didn't count."
That was the children's favourite part; where Sherlock or Molly would recite some pieces of the story and sort of replay the scenes themselves.
Sherlock continued, "I kept thinking 'How could my Molly think for even a moment that she doesn't count?'"
Sherlock was gazing at his wife's eyes, who was gazing at his in return. Both of them didn't notice that Maria moved closed to sit next to her brother on the couch.
Sherlock brushed Molly's knuckles with his thumb and continued, "So, I waited for her in the lab and…"
"And startled me in the dark." Molly interrupted, raising her eyebrow and smirking lightly and teasing him.
"Um, yes, well…sorry about that." Sherlock said sheepishly.
"Forgiven." She replied, smiling warmly.
Sherlock took a deep breath, still stroking Molly's hand, "Then I approached her slowly, pouring my heart out, telling her that she has always counted and that I have always trusted her."
"And then?" Maria urged, getting more excited as they were getting closer to her favourite part.
Molly leaned forward, squeezing her husband's hand.
"What do you need?" she repeated the same words she said earnestly over 35 years ago.
"If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?"
"What do you need?" Molly repeated in a whisper.
"You."
And without a second thought, Sherlock leaned forward and captured Molly's lips in a gentle kiss. Well, as gentle as it could be in front of the young audience.
"Awwww!" both William and Maria yelled, covering their eyes with their little hands.
Molly broke the kiss first, smiling at Sherlock, then she turned to her grandchildren and said, "Well, now that you got your story, time for lunch. Go wash your hands. Off you pop." Molly said to her grandchildren.
William and Maria obediently stood up from the couch and walked outside the living room, whispering to each other about the story they just heard and discussing which story should they demand next. Nana Molly and Grandpa Sherlock had so many stories of their own.
Sherlock stood up from his crouching position as slowly as his knees and back could allow him and eased himself beside Molly on the couch, glancing at his youngest grandson who was now sleeping soundly in his baby carriage.
"Your flower." Sherlock said, offering the yellow flower to Molly, who accepted it whispering a soft 'thank you' before resting her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence for a few moments before Sherlock finally said, "By the way, when I said I needed you just a couple of minutes ago, I actually meant it.", Sherlock said with a wink, then wiggled his eyebrows, smirking.
"Sherlock!" Molly scolded, though she couldn't keep the wide grin off her face and couldn't fight the sudden urge to lean forward and capture her husband's lips in a deep kiss.
Sherlock and Molly had a long and happy life together, filled with good and bad times, and despite being old of age, their hearts were still as young as the first day they have met.