Sherlock blinked his eyes open and peered over at his alarm clock. He suddenly remembered he had agreed to meet Molly before church and he groaned. He had overslept. Usually, his internal alarm clock woke him when he had activities planned, but in this case, he hadn't been thinking about it enough before bed to tell himself when to get up, and he had not thought to set the alarm either. He would have to hurry if he didn't want to be late.

He scrambled out of bed, almost tangling himself in his sheet in his haste, and quickly dressed. Fortunately, he had taken a shower before bed and had shaved at that time, so it was just a matter of selecting what suit to wear. He pondered briefly whether he should wear a tie, then decided against it. Fortunately, his purple shirt had recently come back from being dry cleaned, so he put that one on, knowing it to be one of Molly's favourites. She had commented on the colour more than once.

He hurried into the kitchen. He just had time for a quick cup of coffee. He noticed John sitting in his chair, reading a newspaper. John turned to look at him when he heard Sherlock in the kitchen. "Make me one while you're at it, won't you?" he asked, and Sherlock pulled out a second mug from the cupboard. "So, you're home then. Guess things didn't go the way I, at least, was hoping they would for you, mate."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, calling back to John, as he waited for the kettle to boil. "Actually things went very well. We've established that we both love one another."

John snapped his newspaper shut and stood, dropping it on the table before he turned to look at Sherlock in surprise. "Well, in that case, congratulations. I'm impressed at your restraint."

Sherlock poured the water into the coffee mugs and took one over to John, while holding the other for himself. "I told you, John, Molly has very strong views about sex, and I respect that. In fact, I found out last night that she attends a church, so well, that goes a long way towards explaining things."

"How do you feel about that?" asked John curiously, peering over his cup at Sherlock.

"Well, I'm heading over to her place shortly so we can go to church together," responded Sherlock with a quirk to his lips.

"You? Going to a church? Bloody hell, are you joking with me?"

"I am not in the habit of making jokes about serious matters, John," responded Sherlock, in an affronted tone.

"Sorry, Sherlock. I just don't see you as the church-going type. You do have a tendency to act as if you are smarter than God, sometimes," his friend pointed out.

Sherlock took another sip of his coffee and checked his watch. He really didn't have time for a long conversation right now. "Well, there's a lot I'd do for Molly, and I want to show her that I respect her and her beliefs, even if I do not adhere to theme myself."

John whistled. "Wow, you've certainly changed your tune. I guess it must be true love, abstaining from sex, even when you have realised it's something you want and going to church,"he quipped.

"Don't tease me, John. At least I don't go bed-hoping and exposing myself to the risk of some sexually transmitted disease or getting a woman pregnant," responded Sherlock, somewhat more aggressively than he had intended.

That seemed to stop John in his tracks, at least. "All right, Sherlock, I won't tease you anymore. I'm definitely looking forward to seeing this new and improved version of you, however. I do hope it will filter towards me soon, seeing as you obviously behave quite differently with Molly than you do with me."

Sherlock took one last sip of his coffee and walked to place the mug in the sink. He didn't bother responding to John's comment directly, but instead said, "Well, I'll be off. Be back sometime after lunch."

He headed out the door, even as John said, "Well, have fun at church, mate."

Sherlock merely rolled his eyes, even though John couldn't see them, and headed down the stairs. He had just picked up his coat to put it on, when Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat and he groaned. He was already cutting things close.

"Good morning, dear. Where are you off to in such a rush?" she asked curiously.

Sherlock swung his coat about his shoulders and fastened the buttons as he responded. "Going to Molly's, then church, then lunch." As soon as he had said the words, he regretted them. He should've just skipped the church bit.

"You, going to church?" questioned his landlady disbelievingly, raising a brow at him.

He opened the front door. "Yes, Mrs. Hudson, no time to talk right now, I'm running late. I'll see you later," he said, then exited to the street. Even as he closed the door behind himself, he heard her mutter, "Well if I hadn't heard it from his own lips, I would never have believed it."

Fortunately, a taxi came along right then, and he was able to hail it. Traffic was fairly light for once, and he made it to Molly's faster than he had anticipated, which almost made up for those extra conversations, he was only a few minutes late. He alighted and asked the taxi driver to wait for him, then walked to the front door of Molly's flat.

Molly opened the door with a smile. She looked very attractive, in a soft, pink cashmere jumper and cream coloured skirt he had never seen before. This was definitely not something she typically wore, so he assumed she liked to dress up a little for church. "Oh, you made it! I have to admit, I was kind of wondering if you would text me an excuse at the last minute."

She stood to the side and allowed him to enter. "Molly, this is obviously something that is important to you. If it matters to you, I am willing to do what is necessary to show you that you matter to me, in fact, you matter the most. I still have much to learn about you," he told her sincerely, before bending down to brush her lips with his own. Then he added, "Are you almost ready? The taxi's waiting for us."

"I'll just grab my handbag," she responded, scooping it up from the table as she said the words.

When they got into the taxi, Molly gave instructions to the driver for the location of her church, and they set off.

Once they alighted in front of a small church a short time later, Sherlock felt very self-conscious. He hesitated at the kerb, not wishing to join the people who were entering, in case someone spoke to him.

Molly took his hand and squeezed it. "It's oKay, Sherlock. If you're uncomfortable, we can sit in the back, and we can wait until the other people have gone in."

Sherlock looked at her and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Molly. I should much prefer that."

They lingered outside until the sound of the steeple bell indicated that church was about to begin, then slipped in quietly and sat in one of the rear pews. It was odd, Sherlock thought. There was something about the place; if he had to give a name to it, he would have said it actually felt holy.

As the service progressed, Sherlock followed Molly's lead, not wanting to stand out by remaining seated when she stood. He was surprised to learn that she had a beautiful singing voice, and she sang with conviction. He was further surprised to realise that the congregation did not just sing traditional hymns, but contemporary ones as well. Sherlock observed the other people in the church ahead of him. Often, they raised their hands while singing as Molly did, and she sometimes closed her eyes as she sang. She seemed to know the lyrics of the songs well, even though they were projected onto a screen at the front of the church. It was a fascinating experience.

And then the man at the front who seemed to be leading the service, some kind of minister, began to speak. He read from the Bible and then began to preach. He said that everyone possessed a God-shaped hole in their hearts, which people often filled with other things.

Sherlock wondered about that. Was that the case with him? He had had a drug addiction in his early university years, and he knew it, even though he liked to say he had just been a user, as he had confessed to Molly. Mycroft would have categorically said it was an addiction. He had also been a smoker. He still sometimes struggled with the desire to smoke, but had been using nicotine patches to help with that. He hadn't had a cigarette since the one Mycroft had offered him after he had identified faux-Irene's body.

In recent years, solving cases and the need to move onto the next one, with the thrill of danger and excitement, seemed to provide the high he had craved when he had been using drugs. This "God-shaped hole" notion certainly gave him food for thought, and he filed that information into his mind palace. Perhaps it was time to really start thinking about the possibility of a presence that controlled the universe rather than everything being random chance. He had often thought that the world was woven from billions of lives, every strand crossing every other. What if there was a higher power up there, directing each strand in a unique pattern?

The man at the front, he remembered now that Molly had referred to him as Pastor Briggs, finished his talk. Sherlock vaguely recalled that it was called a sermon, although he had no idea how his mind palace had dredged up that information. Once again, he thought that perhaps he had attended church as a child, but had forgotten.

Everyone started to sing a hymn, and Molly looked over at Sherlock, smiled, then began to sing with everyone else. Sherlock couldn't help gazing at her profile, and as he did so, he had a sudden image of himself standing at the front of the church, and of Molly walking towards him in a white bridal gown with a veil over her face that glittered with tiny Swarovski crystals. The image in his mind was so clear, it was as if it had actually occurred, and he was reliving it. And at that moment, he knew without a doubt that he wanted to marry the woman who stood beside him. He wanted to share a life with her, to be with her, for richer or for poorer, for better or worse, in short, everything that people said to each other when they made vows.

After the church service had finished and they were eating lunch at a small restaurant nearby, Sherlock couldn't help being a little preoccupied. His mind palace whirled with thoughts about God, and then it drifted to thoughts on buying an engagement ring and proposing to Molly. Was it too early for that? Sherlock decided he would have to ask advice when he returned to Baker Street.

Molly, of course, being attuned to him as usual, gave him a concerned look, as they waited for their meals to arrive. "Are you doing okay, Sherlock? Was the church service too much for you?" She reached out a hand towards his, where it rested on the table, and he opened it, engulfing her hand with his own larger one.

He didn't want to tell her that part of his thoughts were occupied with the idea of marrying her, so he spoke instead about the service. "I've been thinking about what the pastor said, contemplating the idea that perhaps our lives are not merely dictated by chance, but ordered in some way by a higher power." He went on to explain his theory about strands being woven throughout the universe that intersected.

"That's a very deep thought," said Molly, after he had finished explaining. "I do truly believe that God is the one who sets things in motion in all our lives. He weaves the pattern of our lives according to our choices. When we make poor choices, God always finds a way to help us learn from our mistakes. I also believe that our paths cross those of other people's for a reason. God knows everything, what we've done, what we will do in the future and He works in our lives when we allow him to."

Sherlock's eyebrows lifted in surprise. He had never heard Molly talk this way. She spoke in a passionate and sincere tone, and he couldn't help admiring it. He filed away Molly's words into his mind palace, knowing he would spend some time later thinking about them. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "I will think about what you said. Thank you, Molly."

Her lips curved upwards. "You're welcome, Sherlock."

After they had finished eating, Molly asked if Sherlock wanted to come back to her place, but he declined, saying he had a lot to think about. She obviously thought he meant he would be contemplating the things of God, and of course, he did intend to do that as well, but he was more anxious to talk with John.

He hailed a taxi for her first, and kissed her goodbye, whispering, "I love you."

"I love you too," she answered with a soft smile, before entering the taxi.

When Sherlock arrived back at Baker Street a short time later, he was pleased to see that John was home. He was typing on his laptop, and it seemed as if he was adding the latest case to his blog. He turned, however, when Sherlock entered and asked, "So, how was church, mate?"

Sherlock went over to his chair and sat in it before answering. "It was definitely more interesting than I expected, and I certainly have things to think about, but there's something else I want to discuss with you."

John swivelled his head to look at him again. "Now, that sounds rather intriguing," he responded, apparently deciding to give Sherlock his full attention, as he walked to his own chair and sat comfortably in it.

"I need you to help me, John," Sherlock told his friend. "When we were in church today, I had this vision of Molly walking down the aisle to me and us getting married, and I realiSed that is what I want."

John's eyebrows shot up in astonishment. "You're saying you want to marry her?" He blinked, then shook his head in amusement. "Wow, first I'm telling you to go out with her, and less than a month later, you're ready to marry her. Have I stepped into the twilight zone or something?"

Sherlock frowned. "Don't make fun of me, John. I'm serious. You know I have never been interested in romantic entanglements in the past, but since I've been with Molly, I'v felt - complete, somehow. She completes me, and I know that I don't want to ever lose her. Therefore, the most logical thing would be for me to commit myself to her fully and propose marriage."

John blew out a long breath. "Well, that's a big step you're taking, but if you have made your mind up, I'll support you. Molly is a wonderful woman." His lips quirked slightly. "In fact, if she hadn't been so hung up on you for these past two years, I might have considered asking her out myself."

Sherlock couldn't help the slight twinge of jealousy he felt at the thought of John being with Molly instead. It made him even more glad that Molly had never shown any signs of interest in anyone but himself, besides that short-lived flirtation with Moriarty, which she had admitted was more about gauging his own reaction, rather than any real interest. However, just to make sure his friend didn't harbour any secret designs on her himself, he asked, "so, you haven't had any feelings of wanting to go out with her yourself lately, have you?"

John chuckled. "Of course not, Sherlock. In fact, I just met someone myself, and I have the feeling she might be the one for me."

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward in his chair. "Oh, really? Who is she?"

A faraway look came into John's eyes. "Her name is Mary, and she's a nurse. Perhaps we'll have to go out sometime and have dinner together."

Relief washed over Sherlock. He was glad that John was truly not interested in Molly, and he hoped that John would find the same happiness that he felt when he was with Molly. "That sounds like a good plan," he responded with a smile. Then he asked, "So, how about you help me look for an engagement ring for Molly?"

"I'm free now, if you are up for it," responded John, and Sherlock nodded.

"Let's do it."

For the next few hours, they went from place to place, and Sherlock grew increasingly frustrated. Nothing seemed quite right until he finally found a small shop where the proprietor suggested he take a look at diamonds that were not already in a setting. "Do you have a shape in mind?" the man inquired.

After looking at so many different types of cards, Sherlock had already decided on the cut he wanted for Molly. "Yes, I want a heart shape."

The man nodded and went to a small room marked Employees Only, then returned with a velvet pouch, the contents of which he poured carefully onto a small tray.

Sherlock picked up the diamonds, observing each one thoroughly, using a special magnifier provided by the clerk. He finally found one that he thought would be the perfect size for Molly. It was not too large for her hand, yet it would still be large enough to show her how much he valued her. "I'll take this one," he told the clerk. Arrangements were made for a ring to be made and Sherlock gave him the specifications, after looking at a ring-sizer. The clerk promised that the ring would be ready within the next few days.

When they left the shop, and were on their way back to Baker Street, Sherlock was filled with anticipation and excitement. "Well, John, that's done. When do you think I should propose? Perhaps I should do it on Valentine's Day?"

John rolled his eyes. "If you want to be so predictable, Sherlock." He drew his brows together thoughtfully. "You know, this is a leap year so you could try proposing on February twenty-ninth."

Sherlock's eyes widened and then he smiled at his best friend. "That is a fine idea, John," he told his friend warmly. "I guess that's what I'll do then."

And that night, as Sherlock slept, he dreamed of Molly in a small church, walking down the aisle towards him in the same gown he had thought about earlier that day, with a smile on her lips that matched his own.

Author's note: Well, there you go. Now you know why I tagged this story as romance/spiritual. I used a bit of Sherlock's talk to Mycroft in TST. I do believe our lives are a tapestry, beautifully woven by God with care. We are all unique, with different patterns.

I also love the God-shaped hole analogy which I have heard before and found to be a good one. If you have read my initial story, A Journey to Love, Faith and Marriage, you will see I borrowed it from there.

Sherlock imagining Molly clearly in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle to Him - well, if you remember this whole story is a dream, that of course is the image filtering into it from the "real" Sherlock. I couldn't resist the opportunity of incorporating the real Sherlock's past, including Molly's church and the shape of the engagement ring he chose for her.

I also have a timeline in my head that this time period is 2012, thus the leap year. Are you looking forward to seeing the proposal?

Please do tell me what you think of this chapter. I do not try to "preach" about my beliefs, but I do like to share them through Molly. I'm not ashamed of my faith, and reading my stories means you are going to see that coming through in a lot of my writing. I am returning a gift God has given me for writing back to Him.