A/N: Wow! 50 follows, and over 7000 views! Thank you so much! Please continue to review, I love reading them all :) Anyway, here's the next chapter, and like I promised, it is quite a bit longer than the last one.


Waiting for Molly to finish getting ready, Sherlock stood in the hallway of 221B, checking his pocket once again, determined that everything would go to plan. Foot tapping impatiently on the floor, he looked at his watch. Sherlock had made sure that he was ready on time, knowing that John would kill him if he was late to Emma's first birthday party, but Molly was still doing whatever it was she did to get ready.

After what seemed like forever, Molly appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a pretty floral dress and mid-heels, her auburn hair gently curled. As he gazed at her, Sherlock took a moment to appreciate how lucky he was that she had waited for him, put up with all his manipulating and whining over the years, trusting that he would finally see what was right in front of him.

Then Molly spoke, breaking his quiet contemplation. "I'm sorry I took so long, are you ready to leave?"

"You are beautiful, Molly Hooper," Sherlock stated, apparently not having heard her question. Molly blushed, still occasionally surprised by this softer side of Sherlock, stopping on the bottom step, which made her the same height as Sherlock.

Being so tantalisingly close to her lips, Sherlock couldn't help but kiss her, forgetting all about being late for Emma's party. Eventually Molly pulled away, pointing out that they were already running fifteen minutes late, and they departed Baker Street together, Mrs Hudson having left earlier.

When they rung the doorbell of the Watson household, John answered, greeting them warmly and inviting them into the living room. There, they were then greeted by Mrs Hudson, Greg, Mary, Mycroft and Anthea (who was now officially his goldfish). "Unc' 'Lock!" Emma exclaimed when she saw the newcomers, waving her arms excitedly. Despite his usually rather cold demeanour, Sherlock had been proven to be good with kids, and immediately stooped to pick Emma up for a hug, even planting a kiss on her forehead. "Hello," he smiled, bouncing her gently.

Molly smiled at the sight, quickly snapping a photo on her iPhone before he could stop her, promising to send it to Mary. "Can she have her present now?" Molly asked, getting a wrapped up Bluebell out of her bag.

"Yeah, sure," John replied, slightly unsure of what Sherlock would have deemed a suitable gift for an infant, although he was reassured by the fact that Molly wouldn't have let him get their daughter anything too gruesome.

When the gift was revealed to be a glow-in-the-dark stuffed toy rabbit named Bluebell, John burst into laughter, joined by Sherlock's deep chuckle, much to the confusion of everyone else, Mycroft looking particularly displeased at being out of the loop.

Later, as Mary served homemade lemon sponge to everyone, Sherlock pulled John aside, tugging him through to the hallway. "John, I need you to tell me something. Do you think that Molly deserves better than me?" he asked, his tone serious.

"Occasionally, yes," John teased, then, realising that Sherlock was being completely serious, continued, "Seriously, though, no. She chose you, and you love one another, so you deserve her."

Then, his tone turning joking again, he added, "Blimey, I never thought I'd see Sherlock Holmes asking for advice on girls!" Then he clapped him on the back and returned to the living room, unknowingly leaving Sherlock to prepare for what he was about to do, assuming that Sherlock had just chosen an odd moment to ask for some advice.

A moment later, Sherlock took a deep breath and entered the room, striding across to where Molly was stood by the fireplace. Taking Molly's hand, he got down onto one knee, a stunned silence falling across the room. Molly blinked in surprise, her heart pounding.

After swallowing nervously, Sherlock began to speak. "Molly. I have known you for over nine years. For most of that time, I chose to ignore you and my own feelings. Then you saved my life, and as you stopped me falling, I fell for you. I recently realised that I couldn't live without you, both literally and metaphorically. So Molly, I am asking you if you will marry me, and do me the honour of becoming Molly Hooper-Holmes?" As he finished speaking, he produced from his pocket a small velvet box, and opened it, revealing a delicate, white gold ring, simply finished with a single diamond.

"Yes!" Molly exclaimed, and Sherlock placed the ring on her finger, and then stood, kissing her deeply, forgetting about all of their friends being in the room, watching.

John was the first to react, grumbling, "Trust you to steal the limelight on Emma's birthday," although he couldn't pretend to be annoyed for long, especially when he saw how happy both his friends were. Getting up, he gave Sherlock a (manly, back-slapping) hug.

Mary, Mrs Hudson and Anthea were all grinning, and crowded around Molly, congratulating her, and admiring her ring, whilst Greg followed John's example, congratulating Sherlock and hugging him. Mycroft remained seated, muttering about sentiment, but was unable to keep from glancing at Anthea slightly wistfully, picturing her wearing a simple gold band on her ring finger.

Despite his relatively calm exterior, inside, Sherlock was celebrating, relieved that Molly had agreed, as despite his confidence that she would, he had secretly been a little terrified of rejection.

Meanwhile, Molly still couldn't quite believe it, and was trying to get her head around the idea of becoming Molly Hooper-Holmes (she thought the alliteration had a nice ring to it). "He proposed!" she said to the women gathered around her, to which they all giggled, hugging her and discussing what colour the bridesmaids should wear. "Just make sure he doesn't get too into the wedding planning," Mary laughed, recalling her own wedding.

"Don't worry, I'll let him choose a suit and that's it," Molly replied, glancing at Sherlock and grinning.

"You kept that secret!" Greg said, shaking his head at the thought of Sherlock, of all people, getting married. "I take it John will be best man?"

"Of course, Gerald," Sherlock replied, as though Greg were an idiot for having to ask.

"That's not his name!" John exclaimed, covering his happiness at being declared Sherlock's best friend.

The celebrations continued in this manner, with Emma not being forgotten, as it was her party after all, until Mary declared it Emma's bed time, and they all said their goodbyes, Sherlock and Molly leaving last.

In the cab, Molly turned to Sherlock, still beaming as she had been all afternoon. "That was wonderful, thank you," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"I suppose I should ring my parents when we get in, before Mycroft tells them first. They're going to be a nightmare," Sherlock said, as though it would be an ordeal, but his eyes betrayed his delight at their engagement. At these words, Molly suddenly felt a little sad; her own parents had both died years ago, so they wouldn't see her get married, and her father wouldn't walk her down the aisle. Sherlock deduced the cause of her sudden quietness, and gave her hand a squeeze, smiling at her softly.

As predicted, when Sherlock called his parents from 221B, his mother was thrilled, scolding Sherlock for not telling her that he was going to propose, before congratulating him excitedly, and his father was quietly pleased, his smile evident in his voice.

Finally, after all the excitement of the day, Sherlock and Molly fell into bed, exhausted but ecstatic. Molly fell asleep first, and Sherlock simply lay for a moment, admiring his wife to be, and recalling his words from earlier, murmuring them quietly, so as not to wake her, although he added a word.

"You are beautiful, Molly Hooper-Holmes."