Author's note: So, I had planned on finishing the story with one last chapter. After seeing the word count, I decided it was too high and that I would split it into two chapters. As a result I added a significant amount to this chapter which I hope readers will enjoy as more people react to Sherlock and Molly's engagement. Thanks to ninewood for wondering about Mrs. Hudson's reaction, which is what made me lengthen the chapter in the first place.

Because of the last minute additional writing/revising and a very busy real life rehearsal/performance schedule, I was unable to find the time to publish a second chapter last week, so this and the concluding chapter will be published this week. Hopefully it was worth the wait.

As it happened, there was no need for Sherlock to go in search of his brother, or to text him the news. In the morning, Mycroft himself appeared at his door while Sherlock was finishing a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon cooked by the much more domesticated John. Upon opening the door to Mycroft, John took one look at him and said hastily, "I'll be upstairs in my room if you need me, Sherlock."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and set down his fork. Just as well he had finished eating. "Good morning, Mycroft," he said pleasantly, attempting a casual tone as he stood to face his brother.

Mycroft looked at him unsmilingly. "It appears you have been coming and going quite frequently between Baker Street and Miss Hooper's flat," he informed Sherlock, who wasn't surprised that his brother was aware of his activity. That constant surveillance was a damned nuisance.

Sherlock pursed his lips. "It's Doctor Hooper, not Miss Hooper, and I'll thank you to remember that fact." Then he recalled his own use of the term "Miss" at the Christmas party and felt ashamed that he had not used her correct title while in the grip of his own jealousy.

Mycroft sniffed. "Doctor, Miss, it's all the same to me. That is entirely beside the point at this moment. I've come here to ask what your intentions are towards her. We had a conversation just over two months ago where I told you caring is not an advantage. Have you forgotten that?"

Sherlock folded his arms. "I have not forgotten what you said, I just don't happen to agree with it anymore," he responded tersely. Why did Mycroft always have to make him feel as if he were a child who needed guidance? He had been clean for years, after all.

Mycroft gave him a narrow-eyed stare. "I presume that to mean that things have progressed beyond the friendship level between you and your pathologist?" he enquired, and then his eyes widened as his gaze drifted down to Sherlock's folded arms and the exposed ring on his pinky finger. "Dear God, is that some sort of promise ring?"

Oh well, now was as good a time as any, Sherlock supposed. "As a matter of fact, yes. Molly proposed to me last night, before I had the chance to do so. She is now wearing the engagement ring I purchased for her, while I am wearing this ring from her," he informed his brother, in a rather more aggressive tone than he would have liked. Mycroft always made him feel at a disadvantage.

Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets. He suddenly seemed uncertain. "I must admit, this comes as a surprise. I had thought you to have developed some sort of regard for Miss Adler after you viewed her body in the morgue."

Sherlock blew out a breath. "That wasn't her body. She's not dead and she's out there somewhere. She faked her death, fearing someone's wrath. I have not determined whose. I've been a little distracted lately, after all. However, I do have that cameraphone because she somehow left it on the mantelpiece for me at Christmas. That's why I thought at first she might be dead."

Mycroft's brows lifted a little. This was obviously unexpected. "That is indeed interesting news," he said slowly. "We have discovered a link between her and Moriarty. It appears she was in his employ."

This time it was Sherlock's turn to look surprised. He recalled all Irene's texts to him, asking him for dinner, otherwise known as sex, by her definition. He might have been uninterested in sex with her, but he was not ignorant of her obvious innuendo. If she was working for Moriarty though, perhaps it was all a ploy to get close to him? Moriarty certainly viewed him as a threat to his criminal activities. Suddenly, he had a thought. "Wait here," he told his brother.

Sherlock went to his bedroom and pulled open his bedside drawer, then extracted the cameraphone. He returned to the sitting room and showed it to Mycroft. "Here's Irene's cameraphone, but it's locked and there are bombs in it which will destroy everything in it if the correct code is not entered," he explained.

Mycroft's lips tightened. "It is fortuitous you have the phone, but how do you propose we determine the correct code?" he asked, rocking back on his heels.

Sherlock thought about the way Irene had looked at him when they had met. She had wanted him, he had seen it in her eyes. She had also let him know she was alive. Whether instructed or not by Moriarty, she wanted sex with him. Perhaps her heart was involved more than she would have liked. "I had a couple ideas about that which were incorrect, but I have two attempts left, and I want to make one last deduction."

Carefully, Sherlock used letters instead of numbers for the code, SHER, so the phone's screen now read "I am ShER locked".

He held his breath, then breathed a sigh of relief as the phone unlocked to reveal its secrets. A very clever play on words, he thought rather admiringly, but not clever enough. "Apparently, Miss Adler is not as smart as she thought," he informed Mycroft smugly, handing over the cameraphone. "I believe the woman developed an affection for me. The code is SHER if you need to unlock it again."

He smiled wryly. "I always thought that love was a dangerous disadvantage. In her case it was." His expression softened then. "But it's different with Molly. There is no artifice with her, and I have learned that love is not a chemical defect or dangerous disadvantage when you are loved in return."

Mycroft's lips twitched upwards slightly. "Seeing as you have been instrumental in giving me some excellent information that should aid in our quest to find proof of Moriarty's criminal activities, I am prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt. Have you informed Mummy and Daddy of your intent to marry?"

Sherlock nodded. "I spoke to them last night when I was at Molly's."

"And when, may I ask, is this momentous occasion to occur?" his brother queried, as he put the cameraphone into his pocket.

"As soon as possible," answered Sherlock, and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "John is moving out soon to live with his new girlfriend, and Molly has agreed to move in here with me."

There was a twist to Mycroft's lips as he replied, "Well, I suppose I had best leave you now to get on with the arrangements, while I examine the contents of this phone. I think the royal family will be most grateful that they no longer need fear exposure of unsavoury secrets. Thank you, Sherlock."

Sherlock nodded. The Irene Adler chapter in his life was now thankfully closed, and hopefully the contents of that cameraphone would lead to Moriarty's criminal activities being exposed. Now it was time to think about his future with Molly.

After Mycroft had departed, it was only a few minutes before Mrs. Hudson appeared at Sherlock's door, entering without knocking as usual. "Hoo hoo," she called. "What was your brother doing here, Sherlock?"

Sherlock took a deep breath. Mrs. Hudson would need to know about the change in tenants anyway. "He was curious to know the status of my relationship with Molly," he explained.

Mrs. Hudson clasped her hands together. "Well, I must say, I have seen her coming and going on a frequent basis over the past several weeks. It is obvious the two of you are seeing one another now and that makes me very happy."

"How observant of you," remarked Sherlock with a quirk to his lips. It would have been difficult to miss that fact. He had seen her peeking out of her flat door on more than one occasion to observe Molly and himself coming or going.

She smiled smugly, not seeming to have noticed the slightly sarcastic tone of his comment and he continued. "Well, I hope you will be even more pleased to know that Molly and I are engaged."

She made an exclamation. "Engaged! My goodness, when you've made up your mind about something you don't waste any time, do you? And here I was, until recently, thinking you and John had something going on that you weren't telling me about."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I can assure you, Mrs. Hudson, that John is no more gay than I am. In fact he is about to move out of Baker Street and in with his new girlfriend, Mary."

Mrs. Hudson gave him an astonished look. "Well, now my world is really turned upside down. Everything I thought I knew has just flown out the window," she said dramatically, waving her arms in the air like an excitable Italian.

Sherlock couldn't help laughing at her. "Well, I hope you won't mind that Molly will be moving in here with me once we are married, so you will still have two tenants."

"Of course not," she assured him. "And have you set a wedding date? Six months perhaps, a year?"

"Heavens no!" exclaimed Sherlock. "We plan to be married as soon as possible."

Mrs. Hudson frowned. "Why the hurry? She could always move in here and you could just plan your wedding together in a leisurely fashion for a few months from now."

Because I want to make love to her and we're waiting till the wedding night for that, he thought to himself. Of course, he wasn't about to express those thoughts aloud. It was none of her business. So he merely said, "We have our reasons."

He only realised his poor choice of words when Mrs. Hudson put her hands to her mouth and gasped. "Are you saying she's pregnant?" Her eyes were wide.

Bloody hell, this conversation was getting more and more awkward. Sherlock huffed out a breath. "Of course she's not pregnant, Mrs. Hudson." He decided his best defense was an offense, so he continued with, "but we are not averse to the idea of starting a family after the wedding."

He was pleased when his diversionary tactic worked and Mrs. Hudson beamed. "Well, that would be just lovely. A baby at Baker Street. In that case, you have my blessing to get married as soon as possible."

Sherlock pursed his lips. She was acting as if she were his mother, although to be honest, she did tend to treat him like a son. So he merely nodded at her. "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."

Her curiosity satisfied, she left the flat after that.

In the evening, Molly came over so they could continue to make wedding preparations. He had checked out the availability of her church and they set the date for a little over a month's time. "You will be there, won't you?" asked Sherlock of John, who was sitting in his chair, studying his phone in order to look at potential cases for Sherlock and himself.

John made a show of checking his calendar on his phone. "Lucky for you, my schedule is clear that day so I suppose I am still available to be your best man, even if it is a bit short notice," he commented with a grin.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at his best friend while Molly laughed. Then the engaged couple set to work on writing down names for their guest list.

"Your half of the church is looking a bit thin," commented Molly as she peered at his woefully short guest list which he had set down on the coffee table in front of him him after thinkIng and writing for all of about a minute. Her list contained colleagues and church friends and was looking much healthier as a result.

John looked up from his phone. "Molly, you should know by now Sherlock doesn't have a wide circle of friends. You're going to have to work on that together once you're married."

"John, can't you give Molly and myself some privacy?" huffed Sherlock, annoyed by his friend's interruption.

"Sherlock, I still live here for now and you are not kicking me out. If you needed privacy, you should have just gone to Molly's flat instead," John pointed out quite reasonably. "Besides, I'm trying to find some quick cases for you to solve to distract yourself before your wedding. Wouldn't want you to get bored while waiting for your sex holiday." Sherlock heard the teasing note in John's voice and pursed his lips.

"At least Molly and I are not shacking up together before any type of formal commitment," he returned with a sniff, trying to prevent the flush that crept up his cheeks. He was tired of John's endless teasing about him and his lack of sexual experience.

Molly put a placating hand on his knee. "Come on, Sherlock, let's get back to this list. We'll tell Greg to sit on your side, not mine."

"Greg?" questioned Sherlock, confused for a moment, then his expression cleared. "Oh, that's right, Greg Lestrade. I really must make an effort to remember that in future."

Is there anyone else at the Yard you'd like to invite?" asked Molly, looking up at Sherlock. "There's Anderson, and what about that sergeant, Donovan I think her name is?"

Sherlock let out a sardonic bark of laughter. "Anderson, I might consider, although he is sure to lower the IQ of the whole street if he is invited, but Donovan refers to me as a freak and a psychopath. She never did understand that I am a high functioning sociopath. The psychopath label belongs to Moriarty."

Molly frowned. "Not Donovan then, and you are definitely not a sociopath anymore, if you ever were to begin with," she told him categorically, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Speaking of Moriarty though, any news on his whereabouts? I would hate for him to make trouble at our wedding, seeing as he seems to be an enemy of yours." A worried expression appeared on her face, even as her gaze drifted back down to the notepad on her knees. where her own list of guests was written.

Sherlock slid an arm around her and lifted her chin towards him to plant a soft kiss on her lips. "It will be okay, Molly. Mycroft is working on some leads with some information I was able to provide him this morning in regard to his connection with Irene Adler."

Molly's brows knit together. "Irene Adler?" she questioned slowly. "Isn't she the woman you identified by her body rather than her face on Christmas Day when I was called into the morgue?" Suddenly, there was a jealous note in her voice.

Sherlock gave her a pained smile. "John and I were conducting a very important assignment for Mycroft, and Miss Adler decided to present herself to me naked, perhaps in an attempt to distract me from my case. That is how I was able to identify what I thought was her body, although as it turns out, it wasn't and she is still very much alive."

He could see heat rising in Molly's cheeks and her lips tighten, so he looked over at John pleadingly for help.

"Believe me, Molly, Sherlock and I were both flustered at the woman's appearance. She is a dominatrix and used to getting what she wants. At the time, I thought she might have sparked Sherlock's romantic interest for the first time, but I have since come to see his interest in her was purely on an intellectual level. The only woman he has ever shown a romantic interest in is you, so don't hold it against him for something that was beyond his control." His voice was sincere and Molly's expression relaxed.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I understand, and you don't need to say any more about it," she said, then added, raising her head to whisper in his ear, "but in future, the only woman you'll be seeing naked is me."

Sherlock felt his heartbeat accelerate. Little temptress. The wedding couldn't come soon enough.

"My husband is three people," said John out loud, distracting Sherlock who had been looking at the enticing curve of his fiancées lips.

Sherlock looked over at him in irritation. "What now?"

"Potential case for you," explained John, who continued to read. "It's interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin."

Sherlock fired off a rapid, "Identical triplets. One in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat. Now if you could just shut up so Molly and I can keep working, it would be much appreciated." He returned his attentions to Molly, thinking it was time to pause in the wedding planning and enjoy some kissing.

He bent his head towards her and John stood. "Wedding planning I can listen to, but if you are going to spend the night snogging instead, I think I'm going to head out and see Mary so I can enjoy a bit of it myself."

"Sounds good," murmured Sherlock rather uninterestedly. His eyes followed John until he had grabbed his jacket and left the flat.

"That wasn't very nice, Sherlock," reproved Molly.

He shrugged. "At least it got him away from us. Let's take a break from wedding planning and spend some time in more pleasurable pursuits."

Molly giggled and wound her arms around his neck. "Alright, but just for a little while. We have a lot to do and not a lot of time."

"I can take care of the serviettes," offered Sherlock, "so that's one less thing to worry about at the reception. I learned how to make swans and the Sydney Opera House on YouTube."

"You are not folding serviettes for our own wedding reception," Molly informed him promptly and he had to admit it was perhaps not the best idea. Folding serviettes on the morning of the wedding didn't sound like the best use of his time. Well perhaps he'd offer his services if and when the time came for John and Mary to get married.

"Very well, I concede the point, but I do intend to make use-"

He didn't get a chance to continue because Molly Pressed her lips against his and made him forget about what he had been going to say. Kissing Molly was a very enjoyable if at times somewhat uncomfortable experience, he thought, shifting his position slightly once their rather intense embrace ended.

"I guess we had better not do any more kissing until I kiss you good night," he told her with a twist to his lips. No point in torturing himself further when he still had a month to get through. He didn't particularly relish the idea of needing a cold shower to get himself under control every time he and Molly indulged in too much passionate kissing.

By the end of the evening the invitations were ordered online and lists had been made for other wedding tasks.

It had been quite a productive evening, Sherlock thought to himself after he kissed Molly good night and hailed a taxi for her to return to her flat.

The following day, Sherlock was at New Scotland Yard, where Greg had called him in to help with a case. Sherlock reviewed the evidence and explained his deductions about which suspect in the case was the guilty party. Not even a three on his scale, but apparently a three to Sherlock was like a nine to the Yarders.

He was about to leave to return to Baker Street when Lestrade stopped him.

"What's with the ring on your finger, Sherlock?" he asked curiously. "I've never seen you wear any kind of jewellery besides a watch."

"Oh, that," responded Sherlock trying to sound casual. "It's a sort of engagement ring. You'll be receiving an invitation in the post shortly."

Greg's brows knit together. "Engagement ring? Is this some sort of a joke?"

Sherlock folded his arms. "Indeed not. Molly and I are getting married in just over a month."

Lestrade looked taken aback. "Hang on. I'm really confused. I thought she was seeing some other bloke, you know, from the way you were making fun of her about wanting to impress him at the Christmas party."

Sherlock shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. He really had been an arse that night and it appeared Greg head been paying closer attention than he thought. "Oh, actually that was an error on my part. It appears the man she was dressed up for was myself. Soon after that I came to the realisation that my words to her head been as a result of jealousy, and that I wished to go out with her myself. We've been seeing each other ever since."

"You've been seeing her for all of two months and now you're getting married? I thought you were married to your work," responded Lestrade, still looking decidedly confused.

Sherlock's lips quirked. "Apparently I have dissolved that marriage in favor of one that involves much more satisfying physical contact."

"Well, good for you, mate," said the detective inspector, reaching a hand out to shake Sherlock's. "If I wasn't a married man, I would have been tempted to go after Molly myself. She's a fine woman."

Sherlock felt a brief flare of jealousy at the thought that yet another man head expressed interest in Molly. Thank God he'd seen the light and snatched her for himself. First John, now Gavin, er, Greg. Bloody hell, for all he knew, Mycroft might have entertained secret designs on Molly too. Then he had to laugh at himself for his paranoia. Mycroft barely knew Molly, but just in case...

Bearing that in mind, when Sherlock got home, he sent a quick text to Molly to obtain her consent. Upon receiving it he sent another text to Mycroft.

Mycroft, I have a job for you.

Author's note: With the additional content of this chapter, I was able to incorporate some extra canon conversation from the show, which I hope you enjoyed. What did you think of the various reactions of people to the news? Did you like seeing Sherlock a little jealous when he discovered that not only John, but also Greg, had found Molly attractive? I quite like a territorial Sherlock.

So, here's your chance to make a deduction. What job does Sherlock have in mind for Mycroft? Don't be shy. If you make a correct guess, I will congratulate you by name in the author's note at the beginning of the next and final chapter.