Author's Note: Hey, y'all! This is just a little something I've always wanted to write so I included it in this story instead of it being a one-shot. I have photo references of Molly's gown and hair on my AO3 (SimplyShelbs16). I hope y'all enjoy! Let me know your thoughts! :)

She was spinning. The lights and people blurred around her until she could only see him. Sherlock spun her around once more before pulling her close. The situation was all very romantic, despite the actual reason behind it.

"Molly?" Sherlock called out as he entered the flat.

"Hmm?" She uttered.

"Would you accompany me to the Spring Gala?" he asked.

"I'd love to!" Molly exclaimed. "Wait…what's really going on here?"

"I can't sweep my lovely fiancé off of her feet every now and then?" Sherlock teased. Molly knew he was truly a romantic but something felt off here, so she waited for him to elaborate. "Fine," he sighed in defeat. "While I do want to make you swoon, there is an underlying motive. I need to go undercover to keep a look out and help Greg catch a murderer."

"Ah, there it is," Molly smiled. "Though, if you still intend to make this a date, I'll take what I can get." She winked at him as she stalked off to the kitchen.

Sherlock's right hand was placed against the small of her back and his left was placed upon her waist as they continued to dance. Molly was radiant in her aubergine stretch mesh evening gown with beaded net that matched Sherlock's dress shirt. It flattered her décolletage with a sweetheart neckline. The dress hugged her curves in all the right places and the skirt flared out a bit. Her curled chocolate locks were swept up into a chignon bun, tendrils of hair framing her face. Molly recalled his reaction well, allowing a smile to grace her painted lips.

"Molly, are you ready?" Sherlock inquired as he adjusted his tie in the mirror above the fireplace.

"Alright, what do you think?" Molly asked, stepping out from the bedroom. Sherlock's jaw practically hit the ground, his mind in buffering mode. She giggled at his immediate response.

When he finally gathered his thoughts, Sherlock spoke softly, "Molly Hooper, you are the most gorgeous creature to ever walk this Earth." He lifted her hand to his mouth, placing a firm kiss against the back of it.

Sherlock scanned the crowd, looking for suspicious activity as he leaned down to kiss Molly's cheek. He looked quite debonair in his tuxedo, his aubergine dress shirt underneath. He also had his usually wild curls slicked back.

"I love you," he whispered, brushing his lips against the spot below her ear. Molly's heartbeat was rapid, as was Sherlock's. This was, perhaps, the most enjoyable undercover mission he ever had. It was then he noticed the man he sought after attempting to be discreet. Sherlock removed his hand from her waist to dig out his phone.

"Is everything alright?" Molly asked with concern. He began to text Lestrade who was located somewhere outside of the ballroom.

"Everything's fine, just letting Lestrade know we've got our murderer," Sherlock spoke in a low voice. "Just keep up appearances as if nothing is amiss. I don't want anything to tip him off or worse."

"Worse?" Molly questioned.

"I would never forgive myself if any harm came to you, Molly," Sherlock informed her. "It would quite literally kill me if I ever lost you, darling." Putting his phone away and placing his hand back on her waist, he lowered his head down to kiss her gently as their feet glided across the floor. They leaned their foreheads against each other as they smiled at one another. The pair of them looked up to see the commotion of Greg arresting the murderer.

"Do you need to go?" Molly asked him.

"No. I'll let Greg have this one," Sherlock smiled. "I'd much rather spend the rest of this evening with you." He spun her around and dipped her, eliciting a lighthearted laugh from his fiancé. He pressed a lingering kiss against her neck.

"Sherlock," Molly breathed out before he brought her back upright. The music changed and she rearranged herself, hugging Sherlock to her and laying her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close to him as he rested his cheek upon her hair. "I think this is how I should have my hair for the wedding." It was a random statement but she wanted to voice her thoughts.

"I couldn't agree more," Sherlock mumbled against her swept up tresses.

"I love you," Molly spoke softly as her lips found his. It was at that point, they both decided that they needed to go home. All of that loving tension between them needed to be released and the gala was not the place to be doing such things.