Two weeks had gone by quickly. Sherlock had kept himself busy with cases and Molly had begun tackling the wedding plans. The date they had chosen, September 16th, was a little over six months away. She had gotten Sherlock's opinions on venue ideas but nothing seemed to stick. Molly could get herself overwhelmed sometimes, as well as have the bad habit of overthinking everything. She knew his indifferent demeanor had nothing to do with her, but with staying focused on the cases he worked on. Sometimes, she couldn't stop her brain from going into overdrive.

What if he doesn't really want to do this? Does he understand the commitment he's making? He's Sherlock, of course he does; he's not stupid. But what if he's regretting it? Will he tire of me eventually? I'm surprised he hasn't already. Should I choose a pastel yellow for the bridesmaids? Hmm, I will talk it over with Sherlock if he actually has an opinion on the matter. Oh, who am I kidding? Sherlock always has an opinion. God, what if he realizes he's made a mistake after the fact? Okay, no, Molly, you know Sherlock loves you. JUST. STOP. THINKING.

"Molly, I can hear you thinking from across the flat," Sherlock called from his chair.

"Sorry," Molly spoke quietly as she peered around the doorway that separated the kitchen from the sitting room. He glanced up at her, back down to his phone and back up to meet her eyes. She's worried, Sherlock deduced. He stood up and walked over to where she stood, still lost in her thoughts. Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"Perhaps you should take a break from the planning," he spoke softly, gathering her into his arms.

"I think you're right," Molly laughed half-heartedly.

"It'll be alright," Sherlock murmured against her hair, sensing that there was probably more than the wedding plans bothering her, but not wanting to push the topic until she felt like talking. He tightened his hold on her, his fingers drawing patterns against the small of her back.

"I love you," Molly whispered, a tear slipping from her eye. He felt it drop, as his dress shirt had soaked it in. The knowledge that she was crying alarmed him greatly.

"What's the matter, Molly?" he asked, pulling back to look her in the eyes.

"Do I bore you?" she asked as she sniffled. Sherlock looked like he was taken aback by her question.

"Of course not; why would you ever think that?" he answered.

"It's just—I was only overthinking again. I don't want you to regret marrying me; for 'tying you down.' I'm not the most exciting person to be around," Molly conveyed, another silent tear falling. "Don't get me wrong, I know you love me, Sherlock. I just worry sometimes."

"I would never regret marrying you. Proposing to you was the best decision I ever made," Sherlock assured her softly. "If I didn't want to be, as you say, 'tied down', I wouldn't have bothered. And who says you're not exciting to be around? I never tire of your presence. You're my favorite person. If anything, I'm afraid you're the one who will regret marrying me." This shocked Molly that he feared just the same as her. She felt it was silly of her to even think any of those things and Sherlock had erased her fear in that moment. Now, Molly wanted to do all she could to do the same for him.

"You listen to me, Sherlock Holmes. I have never regretted one moment with you, nor would I ever. I want nothing more than for you to be my husband, whom I love very much. We make each other happy and that will never stop. We've both been overthinking a bit too much; overanalyzing every little thing. We see but do not observe what is plainly in front of our faces. We're in love and we're happy, causing us to wait for the moment it gets pulled out from under us; waiting for something to go wrong because we fear it will," Molly said to him with a passion, proud of her epiphany. Sherlock looked a bit dumbfounded and it caused an amused giggle to rise out of Molly.

"You are brilliant, Molly Hooper," Sherlock smiled, realizing she was right. "I shall be even more certain to never let you go." He kissed her gently, relishing in the moment. "I love you so much." Molly's fingers lost themselves in his curls as she pulled him back to her, kissing his lips, jaw, neck and back to his lips once more. He followed her lead and kissed the top of her head, her eyelids, cheeks, nose, just below her ear and returned to her inviting lips. He guided her further into the sitting room as they snogged each other silly, his foot getting caught on that blasted area rug. The two of them fell to the floor in a pile, laughing so hard their stomachs ached.

"Well, I knew you had fallen for me, but not quite this hard," Molly quipped with a laugh. Sherlock chuckled at her humor. She had landed on top of his chest and he continued to hold her there, fingers running through her hair.

"You think this is falling hard?" Sherlock asked. "It doesn't even remotely compare to the depth of my love for you."

"Kiss me, Sherlock," Molly encouraged, a twinkle in her eyes.

"You don't have to tell me twice; or even once for that matter," Sherlock smiled as he pressed his lips against hers, leaving the pair of them lost in a moment of bliss.

Author's Note: I could not stop typing this chapter. It came to me rather quickly, my fingers flying across my keyboard. It's like Sherlock and Molly just took over for me lol. I love to hear your thoughts! xo