It's been awhile...I'm sorry. This chapter is on the fluff side. I needed a break from writing such angsty stuff with my other stories His Fire and Her Ice and Should've Said Sorry...they drain my emotions, lol. I need some fluffy goodness! I hope you all enjoy this one and thanks for sticking with me, even when I don't update this one as frequently.

Hugs!

Sherlock could not shake the feeling of fear and nausea. When he had seen that small, cold, lifeless body lying on the ground and the small dead face staring out into night, it had affected him in a way that no other case had. When he first saw her, everything seemed to slow down, agonizingly so. He saw the soft chestnut brown hair pooled out around her head like a halo. The crisp, white pathologist coat had covered her body. The fear and despair he had felt had been overwhelming, nearly suffocating him.

Anderson's face had been so full of concern and Sherlock realized that the concern had been for him. How quickly Anderson had been to assure him that the girl lying lifeless on the ground was not Molly. He had taken such care to make sure that Sherlock would not be upset by what he was about to see. Could Anderson see in Sherlock's eyes the emotions that he held for Molly? Was Sherlock that apparent? And if he was, did that place Molly in even more danger? This murderous psychopath had obviously chosen the girl because of her resemblance to Molly and had even left Sherlock a personalized note on the body.

"Sherlock," Molly said tentatively, stepping into the kitchen where he sat. "Are you alright?"

He turned to look at her and had the strongest urge to pull her into his arms. Before he realized that he had even moved, he stood and went to her, embracing her tightly.

"Sherlock?" Molly asked quizzically. "What's happened?"

"Another murder," he said, pressing his face into her hair and inhaling deeply. "I…this one bothered me a bit more than I am used too."

Molly's brow creased as she laid her head against his chest listening to the thud of his heart. "But you're always able to divorce yourself from feeling anything for the victim…it's what makes you so perfect at what you do."

"I am hardly perfect," he said softly. "If I was, I would've stopped this fiend when I was in the burned out building with him instead of letting him get away…and now, he's taken someone else's life."

Molly turned her head up and looked at him. "This isn't like you…something has happened…was it something to do with the body?"

Sherlock tightened his grip on her and swallowed hard. He didn't want to tell her about the girl or the note. He wanted to protect her from the horror of it, but she stared at him with questioning eyes.

"Sherlock," she said softly. "Tell me…you know you can tell me anything."

"I know," he said, kissing the top of her head. "But I wanted to spare you…"

"Tell me, Sherlock," she pressed. "I know that you don't engage in sentiment…but sometimes it really helps to talk about it…you'd be surprised how much of a difference it can make."

He released her from his arms but kept hold of her hand. He walked into his living room pulling her with him. He sat down on the sofa and pulled her down beside him. "There was a note left on the body for me," he began. "The killer had chosen a victim that resembled someone very close to me. He had even dressed her in something that this person would wear and for a horrifying moment…I thought it was her."

Molly's face scrunched as she tried to think who in the world that could be. Mrs. Hudson was the only woman that Molly was aware of that Sherlock felt close too. She couldn't imagine who it could be unless it was the woman. She felt her throat constrict from the pain of that thought. She felt both guilty and ashamed that she would feel hurt that the killer would choose someone who looked like Irene Adler because it must mean that Sherlock still loved her. She felt ashamed that her first thought was not one of pity for the murdered girl.

"Sherlock, this isn't good," she said. "If he knows that much about you…if he knows what to look for when choosing a victim for it to affect you so, then he must be following you. Or he at least has access to information about you."

Sherlock shook his head. "He's not following me, I would know," he said. "And it wouldn't be that difficult to find out who my loved ones are. You were an obvious chose for him as would be Mrs. Hudson, but a woman her age does not fit with his profile."

Molly blinked. "You think he will try to harm someone that looks like me?"

It was Sherlock's turn to blink. He peered at her. "Molly, he has harmed someone that looked like you. The body that was left for me tonight with the note…when I first saw her, I thought it was you."

Molly's eyes widened. "Me," she gasped. "Oh…God…he killed someone because of me?"

"Not because of you," Sherlock said quickly. "He killed because he is a sadistic and evil man. He chose the girl because of me…he wanted to get to me."

"But why should that…" her words trailed at the look he gave her. "That's why you're upset…because you thought it was me."

Sherlock gave her a small tight smile. "It's funny how fearing that you've lost someone can put things into a whole new prospective," he said.

Molly felt her mouth suddenly go dry. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I should think it was obvious what I mean," he said gruffly, uncomfortable with having to confront his feelings in front of the very woman that he had feelings for. "I'm not good at this sort of thing, Molly, you know this."

"Are you trying to tell me that you feel something for me, Sherlock?" she asked with a trembling voice.

He looked down, unable to meet her gaze. "I was going to propose that night…in the restaurant before I discovered that Sally and Sara had been taken away."

"Propose…" she repeated incredulously. "Marriage?"

Sherlock frowned and looked up at her sharply. "Yes, of course marriage," he snipped.

Molly's hands went to her face in shock. "But why would you want to marry me?" she asked breathlessly.

Sherlock felt his face begin to color and his skin became warm. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "John and Greg said that I shouldn't propose…that it would upset you."

Molly leaned back slightly and her face became guarded. "Why would it upset me?"

He cleared his throat again and glanced at her quickly before turning his eyes downward to stare at the carpet. "Because of what my reason would've been."

Molly could feel the ache begin in her chest and she turned from him, trying to distance herself from the inevitable pain of loving him. His hand closed over hers. "Don't turn away," he said softly.

"What did you tell John and Greg were your reasons for wanting to marry me?" she asked in a surprisingly clear voice.

"I told them that it would make you happy because you love me and that I am fond of you," he said. "That we we're friends and coworkers, with many things in common and it would make sense for us to marry…it would be convinent to us both."

She swallowed. "I see," she said. "And what did John and Greg say to that?"

"That it would not make you happy," he said. "That it would hurt you and offend you if I said those things to you."

"Do you know why it would hurt and offend me?" she asked.

"Because you deserve better than that," he said. "You deserve love, passion, and companionship."

"And that is not what you were offering," she said looking down.

Sherlock placed his fingers under her chin and lifted it gently. "But I want too," he said earnestly. "I do, Molly. I want to try. I feel love and passion for you now…I'm just not good at expressing it. I've never felt like this for someone before and I'm sure that I'll screw it up royally. I still have the ring, Molly. I was waiting for another time to ask you."

She looked at him with confusion. "What are you saying?"

"That I want to marry you," he said. "And I know that you will need time to see that you can trust me, that I do truly have feelings for you. I'll give you as much time as you need. I don't mind a long engagement, whatever makes you more comfortable."

Molly's eyes widened and she gasped. "Sherlock…I…"

"No, I understand," he said. "I really do understand your hesitation. But Molly, when I saw that girl laying there dead and I thought she was you…for a brief moment something inside of me broke and I'm not sure that I would have ever fully recovered if it had been you lying there. I thought of all the time that I have wasted that I could have had with you, but instead I allowed my pride to dictate my heart…it made me sick because what if I had lost you?" He shook his head. "It was then that I had an epiphany. Molly, I think that I just might be helplessly in love with you."

He turned his body to face hers, his knees pressing against her. He turned the full effect of his wide green eyes upon her and took her hands in his. "Please give me a chance to prove myself to you," he pleaded. " Will you accept my ring? I won't pressure you for a wedding date. We will marry when and if you are ever ready."

"Sherlock, I…" her words faltered as tears filled her eyes.

"Oh God…" he said with his voice and face full of anxiety. "I've done it wrong haven't I? I've ruined it! I should've waited for John and…"

She shook her head, choking back a sob, clutching at his hands. "No…" she managed to gasp out. "You're perfect and so sweet…oh Sherlock…I…" She stopped and closed her eyes, taking a few deep centering breaths before looking at him again. Her heart almost melted when she looked at him. He was so uncertain and so vulnerable.

"Yes Sherlock," she said breathlessly. "I will accept your ring with all of my heart."

"Oh Molly," he said excitedly as a huge grin crossed his face. "You won't regret it, I swear!" He pulled her into his arms and began kissing her cheeks, nose, lips, and eyelids, whatever his lips could find. "I'll make you happy, I promise. I'll take care of you and protect you. I will love you and cherish you."

Before she could answer him, he abruptly released her and got up from the sofa disappearing into his room. He returned a moment later and dropped to his knees in front of her. "John said that there is only one proper way to propose," he said smiling happily.

Molly had never seen him look so happy. His green eyes shone brightly, glittering under the light of the lamp. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body as he leaned into her. The love and acceptance that he felt for her were evident in his features as he looked at her with such unbridled joy.

Sherlock took the ring from the jewelry box. "Molly Hooper, will you make me complete by entwining your heart to mine for whatever time we have left together on this Earth?"

Molly nodded her head as the tears spilled down her cheeks. With his trembling hand, he took her trembling hand and placed the ring on her finger. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed the finger that housed his ring.

"Oh Sherlock," she squeaked and threw her arms around him. He laughed and stood with her, pulling her flush against his body as he held her in his arms. "I love you, Sherlock," she gasped. "I always have."

"And I will be the better man for it," he said, kissing her soundly on the lips before spinning with her in his arms.

Their bliss was momentarily interrupted when they heard a throat clear behind them. Sherlock turned still holding Molly to see John and Sally standing behind them.

"Did we miss something?" John asked.

"Molly has just made me the luckiest man in the world, John," Sherlock said. "She has just agreed to be my wife."

John blinked in surprise before a slow grin crossed his face. "Well alright then," he said.

"The proposal," Sherlock said smiling like a school boy. "I did well." He looked at Molly as if he needed her reassurance.

"Yes, Sherlock," she said before kissing him again. "You did very well." Sherlock beamed at her as he placed her on her feet.

Sally approached Molly and hugged her. "Congratulations," Sally said softly. "I suppose it'll be Mrs. Freak now, yeah?"

Molly laughed and hugged Sally tightly. "I suppose I will be," she said.

"I'm happy for you," Sally said. "We need some good news and this is lovely news."

Sherlock looked at Sally suspiciously. "Why do I not trust you, Sally?" he asked.

Sally pulled away from Molly and smirked. "Because you know that I'll be keeping a close eye on you and if you do anything to hurt this woman, not even your brother will be able to find you when I'm done with you."

Sherlock's expression softened and he favored Sally with a smile. In two strides he was standing in front of her and pulled her into a massive hug. "The more I'm in your company Sally, the less irritating you become," he said.

"Thanks," she grunted as he squeezed the air from her lungs.

"I'd say this is cause for a celebration," John said stepping into the kitchen and returning with a bottle of wine and four glasses.

"A most excellent suggestion," Sherlock said.

"I do have them occasionally," John said smiling.

"Yes," Sherlock agreed. "On occasion."

John glared at him as Sherlock took the bottle of wine and opened it. He filled all four glasses and sat the bottle down. He handed Molly and Sally a glass before handing John one. He took the last one and held it up in the air. "To love and new beginnings," he said.

John laughed. "To love?" John asked surprised. "Molly who is this man and what have you done with Sherlock?"

Back with the psychos next chapter...

Thanks for reading guys! I appreciate you all!