A 'While You Were Sleeping' AU... I had a bad day, turned on one of my favorite romantic comedies, and this fluffy fic sort of just... happened. Enjoy!
'Dearly beloved, we're gathered here in the sight of God to join together this man and this wo-'
'I object.'
The guests gasped. The minister blinked and glanced around before leaning towards the bride and whispering, 'I haven't gotten to that part yet.'
'I know,' Molly whispered out of the side of her mouth. She looked up at Mycroft and clenched her fists around her bouquet as she bravely muttered, 'I'm sorry. I can't… I can't do this.'
'What's going on?' Violet Holmes demanded from the front row. 'Molly, what's wrong?'
'Molly?' Her Matron of Honor, Mary, touched her arm in question.
Turning to face the fearsome mother of the groom, Molly forced an apologetic, shaky smile. 'I'm sorry, but I can't do this… I… I'm in love with your son.'
'I know,' Violet responded slowly. 'I thought that was why we are here.'
'No, not that one.' Molly took a deep breath and hesitantly pointed at the Best Man. 'That one.'
'Oh, dear God.'
'Really?!'
'Molly!'
'Finally.' Molly glanced up in confusion at Mycroft's soft utterance amidst the exclamations of the bridal party and guests. Before she could question him, the crowd's murmuring was pierced by a shrill cry.
'Sherlock, what the Hell did you do?!' Violet screeched, rushing up the few stairs to smack her youngest son across the back of his head.
'Mummy, please!' He protested, holding his arms out in protection. 'I didn't do anything!'
'Mother, please refrain from injuring my dear brother,' Mycroft said as he separated the two and reassured her with a smile. 'Neither of them did anything untoward. And I'm perfectly fine with this change in events.'
'How can you be fine with it?!'
'Because I never loved Molly. Not in a romantic way, at least.'
The audience gasped. Sherlock frowned at him, quickly delving into his Mind Palace and buffering with the new information.
Molly looked at Mycroft in confusion. 'Then… why?'
Mycroft took her hand and pulled her close to kiss her cheek. 'You are a wonderful, kind woman, Molly Hooper. But whatever attraction I initially felt for you faded when I saw how you were falling for my brother.'
'But… but you were still going to go through with this!' Molly exclaimed in horror.
'As were you,' he replied with a raised eyebrow. 'I would have objected eventually, but I was trusting that you would realize your feelings for Sherlock before it got this far and break things off. And I was correct, though it took quite a bit longer than I estimated. Almost two months longer.'
He smirked. 'Besides, I believe my true fiancée would be quite put out if I were to marry you.' He nodded his head toward the audience and Molly turned to look. From the back row, Anthea giggled and wiggled her fingers. The small crowd was watching in unabashed interest; Mummy with her hand over her heart, pleased that the unexpected turn of events was turning out better than expected. Two potential wives for both her sons? How wonderful!
'Oh.' Molly felt a huge burden lift off her shoulders as Mycroft let go of her hand. 'So this whole time, you were just…'
'…trying to get you to realize your feelings for each other, yes. A bit unorthodox, I admit, but successful, nonetheless.'
Sneaking a glance at Sherlock, she swallowed nervously at the blank look on his face. 'I-erm… I don't think it's exactly mutual, Mycroft,' she whispered resignedly.
'Don't assume, Molly,' Sherlock interjected, coming out of his thoughts. 'The past four months of watching the two of you has been sickening, but not just because it's Mycroft and feelings.'
Mycroft's smirk deepened as he stepped away, allowing Sherlock to take his place. The detective towered over Molly, whose heart was pounding hard and whose eyes were wide in hopeful wonder. He pulled on the hateful bowtie and ran an agitated hand through his curls as he stared down at her, his brow lined in vulnerability. 'I didn't see it. I didn't see how you felt about me. I didn't see how he didn't love you like he should. I didn't want to. I was afraid… for my heart, that seeing you happy with him would destroy me.'
She melted at his words and the love in his eyes, reaching up to brush a lone curl from his forehead. 'Well, I'm not with him now, am I?'
He smiled and leaned into her touch as he asked hopefully, 'Then do you think… maybe you could be happy with me?'
She beamed up at him in silent answer and raised herself up on her toes, closing her eyes in anticipation. Just before her lips touched his, Mycroft's less-than-dulcet tones broke them apart. 'As touched as we are by this display, perhaps you would prefer a more private setting to celebrate the onset of your relationship.'
Sherlock glowered at his brother while Molly giggled, her embarrassment over the unconventional, not-wedding fading as her joy overwhelmed her. Slipping her hand into Sherlock's, she pulled him down the aisle, the folds of her white dress rustling with each hurried step. Though initially surprised by her eagerness, Sherlock quickly caught up and took the lead, tugging her along with equal enthusiasm, his unfettered, joyous laughter ringing out harmoniously with hers.
Behind them, Mycroft made his apologies to the few guests, which consisted mostly of friends and Holmes', since Molly's family had all passed on. 'I do apologize for the inconvenience. However, since you are all here and dressed for a wedding and reception, it would be a shame to disappoint.'
Molly glanced over her shoulder in time to see Mycroft extend his hand to Anthea. The stunning brunette tossed her head back in laughter, rising and walking up the aisle to accept her fiance's proffered hand.
'A happy ending for everyone, apparently,' Sherlock remarked dryly. Feeling lightheaded with giddiness, Molly tightened her grip on his hand and quickened her pace, pulling him into the empty foyer.
The moment the doors closed behind them, Sherlock twirled her around, causing her to stumble and steady herself against his chest, his hands on her waist. She giggled and fiddled with the dangling ends of his undone bowtie.
He smiled tenderly down at her and she sighed happily, reaching up to cup his cheeks. 'I love you,' she whispered, staring up at him in complete adoration.
He wrapped his arms around her back and pressed his lips to hers, finally. Her hands slipped around his neck and she stood up on her tiptoes, his body curving over hers until she was dipped back. Once she'd been thoroughly kissed, he pulled back just enough to brush his nose against hers and whisper, 'I love you back.'
