The quartet arrived at Covent Garden and found a restaurant within walking distance of the Royal Opera House.

As soon as they had placed their order, Sherlock's mother wasted no time in asking what had happened between Molly and the detective after he had been away for two years.

Molly began to recount the story.

"First of all, you have to understand that I did not know if I would ever see Sherlock again after he left the country. He used my flat to keep a low profile until after his 'funeral', and then he was gone."

She sighed. "I met someone else about a year later, someone I hoped would help me forget about Sherlock."

"Yet you chose someone who had a similar hairstyle to mine and wore clothes like mine," cut in the sleuth, chuckling.

Molly felt her face colouring. "Well, at least he wasn't a sociopath," she shot back, before adding "not that you are one...anymore." She looked apologetically at Mrs. Holmes.

"It's okay Molly, my parents know I called myself a high-functioning sociopath."

"I'm glad you put that in the past tense, son," remarked Mr. Holmes, voicing his opinion for once.

"I don't think that has been an accurate description for a long time," ventured Molly. "You were different when you came back to London."

"I'm still waiting to hear about how Sherlock found out you were engaged to someone else," Mrs. Holmes pressed, looking at Molly.

"Very well, Mummy," Sherlock interceded. "I will continue the story for you. That way Molly can have some insight into my thoughts on what happened."

He continued, "As you know, John was not aware that I had faked my death, so he was justifiably angry at me when I returned, for deceiving him. I asked Molly to replace him as my assistant for a day. We had a lovely day together, investigating two different cases. Then I asked her if she wanted to get some chips..."

"And I asked Sherlock why he wanted me to help him that day..." interrupted Molly.

Sherlock looked at his fiancée, forgetting he was relaying the tale to his parents. "And I told you I was thanking you for making everything possible for me to outwit Moriarty, because he thought you didn't matter at all to me. I told you that you were the person that mattered the most...and then I saw that bloody ring on your finger."

By now, Sherlock and Molly were completely oblivious to anything going on around them, or that Sherlock's parents were witnessing a heartfelt conversation between them.

"Are you saying - do you mean that if I hadn't been engaged at the time, things might have been different?"

"I honestly don't know," admitted the detective. "Looking back, I think you evoked feelings of jealousy in me that day."

"Don't forget, you had asked if I wanted to get chips with you, and then you went off and left me just standing there."

"Because you were engaged to someone else." Sherlock's eyes met Molly's for a long moment.

Molly's heart ached at the thought of what might have been, but then gave herself a mental shake. What mattered was the present, and they were together now.

Mrs. Holmes' voice broke the silence. "Well, all's well that ends well. You sound like a pair of star-crossed lovers. I never would have expected it of you Sherlock." Her voice softened then as she spoke to her son, "I'm...we...your father and I are so happy for you. We've always wanted what's best for you. After Eurus, and what happened with your friend, we saw how you changed, but felt it was better that you forgot what happened, and forgot your sister. It was the wrong thing to do. We should have reminded you, let you grieve for your friend. I feel we are responsible for the man you became, who didn't believe in God anymore, or in love."

The food was served at that point and conversation stopped as the quartet ate.

Molly could see that Sherlock's mother seemed sad after what she had said. As soon as she was finished with her meal, the pathologist said gently to the older woman, "You shouldn't blame yourself for doing what you thought was best. These things happen for a reason. God's timing is not ours."

Mrs. Holmes looked over at her son who had put his arm around Molly as they sat on their bench seat together across from the Holmes parents. "Your fiancée is not only smart and beautiful, but wise as well. I couldn't ask for a better woman for you."

"Nor could I," agreed Sherlock as he kissed Molly's cheek.

The atmosphere at the table relaxed.

Sherlock paid for the dinners and the quartet set off for the Royal Opera House.

Once they were in the crowded lobby, Mrs. Holmes hugged Molly again and said,"I'm so glad we got to spend some time getting to know you this evening."

Mr. Holmes also hugged Molly and told her with a smile, "Thank you for making our son so happy."

The detective's mother then hugged him. "We'll see you at Sherrinford then tomorrow evening, Sherlock. I hope you can help get through to Eurus by playing your violin for her. Thank you for taking us to dinner."

"My pleasure, Mummy. I'll see you tomorrow. Love you," Sherlock told his mother fondly as he gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Molly noticed the look of delight that spread over her future mother-in-law's face. Apparently the evening had served to soften Sherlock's attitude towards his parents. She wondered how long it had been since he had told his mother he loved her.

The Holmes parents made their way to the doors that would take them to their seats in the balcony. Sherlock and Molly's seats were very good ones, in the centre of the orchestra stalls.

"I'm just going to duck to the loo," Molly told her fiancé.

Sherlock nodded and said, "I'll wait for you here."

Molly made her way to the ladies toilets. After using the facilities, she reapplied her lipstick and returned to where Sherlock was still patiently standing. He had apparently had time to purchase a programme for the opera, however. As she reached him, she looked around uneasily. She felt a sudden chill along her spine, as if someone was watching her. She scanned the crowd, but nothing seemed amiss.

"Molly, are you okay?" asked Sherlock with concern. He began looking around at the mass of people as well.

"I just had that funny feeling again, that someone was watching me," she replied.

Sherlock took her by the arm and almost pushed her to where the door attendants were checking tickets and handing out papers with the opera synopsis on them.

They settled into their seats and Molly looked at Sherlock. There was a grim set to his mouth. "Why the rush to sit down already?" she questioned. "We still have fifteen minutes before the opera is due to start."

"If someone is still watching you, I didn't want them to overhear any of our conversation. We should be safe to talk now."

"I'm worried," admitted the pathologist.

"Don't be," assured the detective. "I will always protect you. We will find this stalker and bring him to justice soon, mark my words."

Molly noted that although the words sounded confident, Sherlock's eyes were still darting back and forth around the huge expanse of seating, as if to reassure himself that everything was truly okay.

"Well, let's just enjoy this night, then," she said, in an effort to lighten the moment. She took the programme Sherlock was holding and leafed through it. Finding the listing of chorus members, she pointed out a name to him. "Look, it's Kaitlyn's sister, Madison. Her name is listed as one of the sopranos."

Sherlock nodded. "So what's this opera about again?"

Molly skimmed the synopsis paper, rather than looking for the page in the programne. "Well, it's like I said when I texted you. Princess Turandot says she will marry the suitor who can correctly answer her three riddles. Apparently there have been a lot of failures and executions before the setting of the opera. One prince has just tried his luck and failed. Then along comes the hero..."

She thrust the synopsis at her fiancé. "Here, you can read it for yourself."

Sherlock waved it away. "I'll just listen to it."

"It's in Italian, although the are supertitles projected above the stage with the translation," she said.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at Molly. "Why would I need that?"

"I suppose you speak fluent Italion," remarked the pathologist, rather dryly.

"Of course. I also speak German, French, Russian, and Serbian. Comes in handy to speak the language of a country when you are working on a case there."

Molly couldn't help but tease her super-intelligent future husband, "So not Spanish or Dutch? No Chinese or Japanese?"

Sherlock just shrugged. "I haven't had any need to learn those languages. If I had to go to Japan for a case in the future, for instance, I would set aside a few hours to learn the language." He said these words without any sign of boasting.

"You can learn a new language in just a few hours?"

"'Oh, I'm not as clever as my brother. He learned Serbian in just a couple of hours when he cane to find me, before I returned to London. I had gotten myself in a bit of, uh, trouble. I had been discovered as an infiltrator. Actually, if I have to be honest...and please don't ever tell Mycroft I'm saying this; I think he saved my life."

Molly gasped in horror. "I didn't know you were in danger after you left. I just thought you were hiding in some other country."

"Nope." Sherlock popped the 'p' in the cute way he liked to do. "I was working on dismantling Moriarty's network. The Serbian part of it was the last of it, or so I thought. Apparently I need to find someone here though, the person who helped Eurus finish Moriarty's mission to destroy me. I guess my nemesis wasn't willing to take any chances, in case I didn't follow through with jumping off the roof of St. Bart's. My sister was his contingency plan."

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by applause as the conductor took his place at the podium in front of the orchestra. Then the lights dimmed as the Maestro began to conduct the huge orchestra. A few moments later the curtain was raised to reveal a sumptuous set, filled with people milling about, the "popolo," the Chinese people who were being told about yet another suitor failing to solve Turandot's riddles.

As the orchestra played and the chorus sang out with magnificent volume and superb voices, Molly glanced back and forth from the stage to the supertitles so she could understand what was happening. She glanced over at Sherlock. His eyes were riveted on the action happening onstage.

A few minutes into the performance the detective whispered, "That mob is bi-polar. One minute they are crying out for blood, and the next they are asking for mercy for the Prince of Persia."

Molly giggled. Maybe the crowd of people was crazy, but wow, did those singers sound fantastic!

As the action continued onstage, Molly could see that Sherlock was totally absorbed. He had his fingers steepled as he leaned his elbows on his knees. The music was so rich and the lead singers superb.

At the end of the first Act, the lights came up for a twenty minute intermission. Molly and Sherlock stayed seated, although many people used the time to exit the huge auditorium to get a drink or use the toilets.

"So, what do you think so far?" asked the pathologist, although she was sure she knew what his response would be.

"It's incredible. The way those singers can make themselves heard over the orchestra without using any type of amplification, it's amazing. " His voice held a note of awe in it.

"Do you think you could play the violin in an orchestra?"

Sherlock thought on this a moment. "I'm a good player, but I haven't had the musical training to do anything that complicated. My sister, on the other hand, she's a natural. She told me that she taught me how to play. I still don't remember that though."

Molly looked at him sympathetically. "It must be hard having those gaps in your memory. Do you think they will ever come back to you?"

"I've had some flashbacks, but that's all. I don't know if I'll ever have full recall. But that's okay. That is in the past. My only concern now is for the future, our future." He leaned towards Molly and whispered, "Do I get my kiss now?"

Molly giggled. "Wait till the lights go out again."

The detective pouted. "Very well then." Instead, he took her hand and kissed it. "I hope you won't object if I rest my arm on the top of your seat, or maybe around your shoulders."

"I guess that would be acceptable," she said in a mock prim tone.

Sherlock did so, and when the lights dimmed to indicate that the second Act was about to begin, he leaned over and gave his fiancée a sweet kiss.

The second Act held the pair spellbound. Princess Turandot finally arrived on the scene and sang her riddles. She sang about the first one, and Molly distinctly heard Sherlock murmur the answer as "hope," just before the unknown prince said the same thing, "la speranza," at which time the wise men on stage opened their Chinese scrolls to confirm that was correct.

With the second riddle, once Turandot finished singing about it, the unknown prince took a few seconds to think about the answer. Not so Sherlock. He leaned his head towards Molly and said, "Of course the answer is 'il sangue,' which means blood. This proved to be the correct answer.

Molly remembered reading the riddle answers as part of the synopsis, however, she knew her fiancé had not done so. She wondered if he would answer the third riddle correctly.

Turandot's voice soared as she sang the final riddle. The prince took even longer to think about his answer. In the music that played while the man desperately thought about the answer, Molly distinctly heard the detective mutter, "Come on you fool; can't you figure it out? The answer is her nane!"

The prince finally cane to the sane conclusion, was proved correct by the wise men, and the people of the royal court sang "Gloria, al vincitore," - "glory to the victor. The Act ended after the prince offered a devastated Turandot a way out of marrying him. If she could discover his real name by the following day, he would agree to die instead of marrying her.

The lights came up for another twenty minute intermission and scene change.

"I think I'm going to go to the loo again," Molly told her fiancé.

He immediately stood up. "I'll come too."

As usually happened at any place with a lot of people, there was a line of women waiting for the facilities. Sherlock was in and out of the men's toilets before Molly, and was waiting for her when she exited. He took her hand as they strolled back to their seats. A few people turned and looked at them, and Molly heard a whisper here and there, "Is that Sherlock Holmes?" "He looks different without the hat;" "Surely that is the famous detective and his fiancée?"

They ignored the whispers and sat back down.

The final Act was not as long as the first two. The prince sang the famous aria "Nessun Dorma," "None shall sleep." His companion killed herself, rather than reveal his name, which brought tears to Molly's eyes. Finally the prince told Turandot his name, Calaf. She told everyone she knew his name, and pronounced it to be "love," and the opera ended with more glorious singing by the whole ensemble, a happy ending. It was truly satisfying.

Many people rose to their feet as the principals made their bow, and the whole cast of singers also bowed. Molly could tell that Sherlock had really enjoyed it as well.

As they left the Royal Opera House, Molly asked, "Well, do you think you'll go to an opera again?"

"Most definitely," he answered. "I had no idea how much beauty could be contained in music combined with such thrilling voices. The plot though was a bit thin. I mean really? The man offers to die if the princess learns his name, and then he ends up telling her himself?"

"I guess it was true love, Sherlock. He was willing to die for it. If she couldn't love him back, he was not willing to live without her. Makes sense to me."

"So, if I had not loved you, you would have wanted to die without me?" questioned Sherlock cheekily, as they stood at the kerb, waiting for a taxi.

"This is real life, not a fictional romance story, and you know it," she chided. "I would never choose to die, even if I felt like my heart was breaking, because my life belongs to God. Sacrificing yourself to save someone you love though, there is no greater, more selfless love than that."

The couple got into a cab and Sherlock instructed the driver to take them to Baker Street. Then their conversation continued.

"So, you were talking about sacrificing yourself for others whom you love. I'm guessing you were referring to Jesus, when he died on the cross?"

Molly was floored by this. "That certainly is what Jesus did for us, for all of humanity. However, I wasn't actually thinking of His sacrifice in this instance."

"You weren't? Then who were you thinking of who was willing to die for someone else?"

"Actually, I was thinking of you, Sherlock." Molly turned in her seat to look directly into her fiancé's eyes, as he turned his head towards hers with a look of open-mouthed astonishment.

She clasped his hands and said earnestly, "When you cane to me for help, it was because you suspected Moriarty would present a danger to your friends. Yes, you planned things, taking into account many variables, but there was always the chance things could go wrong. You were willing to take that risk."

She continued, "My dearest love, I have always known your emotions ran deep. You just pushed them away with that façade of arrogance and superiority. I knew the real you before you did."

"I should have kissed you properly, that day when you asked what I needed, and I said 'you.'"

"We could play the 'what if' game forever with our history of near misses, but it wouldn't accomplish anything. I am happy to be where we are right now. I dreamed about us being together, but I didn't really expect it to ever happen."

"When we get home, I'm going to make sure you are in no doubt as to how I feel about you," the detective promised, with a glint in his eye.

"Oh really? I'll look forward to that," she replied, a little breathlessly, as her stomach clenched at the thought of more of his delicious kisses.

It was almost midnight, by the time they arrived at Baker Street.

"We should really get to bed," said Molly, once they had ascended the stairs to the flat. "Church is at ten o'clock tomorrow morning."

"That still gives us at least two hours before we need to get to sleep for a good night's rest," teased the detective.

"Ha, ha, very funny. I guess we have time for some tea first." Molly walked into the kitchen and switched on the electric kettle to boil the water.

Sherlock followed her into the kitchen. "Among other things," he said, "first, I intend to thoroughly kiss you, Molly Hooper." He scooped her into his arms and carried her to his chair, continuing to hold her as he seated himself. The detective then proceeded to make good on his word, keeping the one arm around his fiancée and cupping her chin with his other hand. He set his lips to hers, kissing her gently at first, then more demandingly as her mouth opened to his in response to the invitation of his tongue. He traced the line of her lips with his tongue, before returning to kissing her ardently.

Molly put her arms around Sherlock's neck as she returned his kiss. Her heart, as usual thumped rapidly inside her and she gasped when Sherlock kissed the pulse point at her throat, before returning to capture her lips with his. She lost track of tine. She was drowning in his embrace, electrified by his touch. Her mind threatened to shut down as her body betrayed her longing for him. She knew Sherlock was similarly affected, by the way he too was breathing fast. It would be so easy to lose herself in him, to relinquish control to the needs of her body, but no, this was not the time.

Molly finally pulled back from Sherlock, trying to catch her breath and force her brain to reassert itself.

Sherlock groaned and said shakily,"Molly, you have no idea what you do to me, what I want to do to you. Now I understand how a person can so easily lose control. Our bodies were made for this, for love. And on that note," he added ruefully,"I think I shall go take a cold shower while you get ready for bed."

Molly immediately scrambled off his lap, flushing,. "I'm so sorry, Sherlock."

"What for?," he asked. "I'm not sorry. Kissing you is worth a few cold showers, and it's not forever." He winked at her and headed for the bathroom.

The sound of the water being turned on galvanized Molly into action. She thought it was a good thing the electric kettle automatically turned off after the water boiled; so much for having tea before bed.

She was suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. It had been a long day. The pathologist got ready for bed, then waited until Sherlock was out of the bathroom, so she could take her turn in there, scrubbing off her makeup and washing her face.

Sherlock was already under the covers when she returned. He was on his back, hands folded behind his head. She got in beside him, taking care to keep her distance, not wanting to tempt him, or herself any further.

The detective, sucker for punishment that he was, reached for his fiancée anyway, sliding his arm out and folding her into his embrace.

They kissed softly once, twice, then Moly sighed contentedly. She drifted into sleep, safe and secure in the arms of her future husband.

Author's note: Danger is coming for Molly...

I hope you enjoyed reading about Turandot. All the details are accurate as I have sung in that opera four times, so am very familiar with it. I highly recommend people see an opera. It is where you will hear voices with the finest training. No microphones are used. And the orchestra is a treat to listen to as well!

What did you think of Sherlock and Molly's little chat about their day of solving crime together? How about Molly talking about Sherlock's willingness to sacrifice his life for his friends?

Sorry this chapter is so long!