Author's note: Well, I got this ready to publish last night because it is my birthday today, and I wanted to not have to do anything aside from spending time with my family, but I've decided I will post it today. Maybe I will get some nice reviews that will give me extra smiles for my birthday!

I am also considering returning to twice weekly publishing. Over Christmas, I was publishing twice a week to get my Christmas story up in a timely manner, and I managed it quite well. If I publish twice weekly, it would mean that I would publish a chapter on the two current stories each week, with an occasional pause if I am continuing a "real time" story like the Valentine one I am planning. Let me know in your review what you think. Does your reading schedule give you enough time to check out two stories from me per week, or should I keep to the one?

Molly looked at Sherlock's profile dreamily from her position beside him in the taxi. How was it possible this magnificent specimen of humanity loved her? That aristocratic nose, high cheekbones. He could have been royalty.

She slipped her hand into his. It was so warm and comforting. His hand was enormous compared to hers. Oh yes, Sherlock Holmes was the whole package, and he was hers.

He turned to look at her and smile, and she was tempted to kiss him again. His full, sensual lips were absolutely made for kissing. Thoughts of what else was made for her brought heat flooding through her body. She would find out soon enough.

Where were they going again? Baker Street or her place? Her brain felt a little fuzzy. Dear heaven, but he had a killer smile.

"You okay, love?"

She beamed. She liked, no, she loved him calling her that. Love, his love. He was her love too, always had been, always would be.

What had she been thinking about? What had Sherlock asked? She tried to force her brain to focus. "I'm hunky dory, Sherlock. Are we going to my place or yours?"

He frowned slightly. "Molly, I don't think it is a good idea for us to have any more of that wine tonight, if you can't remember where we are going."

She pursed her lips. "I can't help it. You are entirely too distracting." She paused for a moment to tug on one of those gorgeous curls, then repeated, "My place or yours?"

He blew out a breath. "Yours, Molly. Mine is rather lacking in furniture right now, except for the bedroom, and I don't think we want to spend time in there, do we?"

She felt the colour rise in her cheeks. Oh, if only he knew how much she did want to spend time in there, kissing him, experiencing all those things two people did when they were in love. The part of her that yearned to be with him that way was definitely getting the best of her. "Oh, of course we wouldn't want that," she lied, pasting on a bright smile.

They rode in silence the rest of the way. She almost forgot about the bottle of wine, but remembered to grab it just before Sherlock assisted her from the taxi. He was such a perfect gentleman, she thought. Amazing how this man had changed so much in such a short time.

As they walked towards the front door, Molly handed Sherlock the wine bottle and hunted for her house keys. Where did she usually put them? Oh yes, the side pocket with a zip.

Triumphantly, she withdrew the keys but found her hands were a little unsteady as she tried to fit the key into the lock. "Somebody must have changed the lock," she muttered, scowling at the confounded thing.

"Molly," she heard Sherlock say in a very patient tone, "nobody has changed the lock. Allow me." He took the keys and unlocked the door easily, then waited for her to precede him inside and flip on the light switch.

He closed the front door and set the bottle of wine on the table while he took off his Belstaff and helped her off with her own jacket. He looked even more devastatingly handsome standing there in his suit.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked automatically, then remembered the wine. "Oh, we were going to finish the wine."

"No, we weren't." Molly heard the firm note in Sherlock's voice. "I'm going to put the wine in the fridge and get the kettle on."

"Alright then." Molly watched him do that. He knew where to find things, and she felt just a teeny bit unsteady on her feet, so she took a seat at the table. She put her hands on the table and suddenly noticed her ring. In the brighter light of the flat, she could see it properly. How it sparkled on her finger. She lifted her hand, inspecting it from every angle, twisting the ring round and round her finger, feeling the heart shape of the diamond.

This kept her happily occupied until Sherlock set a cup of tea in front of her and took the seat around the corner from where she sat. "Thank you, Sherlock. I'm going to be Mrs. Sherlock Holmes," she announced, ignoring her tea for the moment to rest her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow resting on the table, as she regarded the man she adored. He was observing her with a slightly amused expression.

"You do realise that you are a little tipsy, don't you?"

She frowned at him. "It was only two glasses of wine."

"Three."

"Two, three, what difference does one glass make?"

"Quite a lot, it seems, my love," he responded with that same smile of amusement on his face.

Her free hand reached out to touch his where it lay on the table. "I'm just very happy right now. I love you, you love me, we're gonna get married. It's a dream come true for me."

He lifted her hand to his lips. "I know, sweetheart. Now drink your tea. I will probably head back to Baker Street afterwards."

She pouted. "Without even doing any more lovely kissing?"

He took a sip of his tea before responding. "I do not object to some goodnight kisses, but Molly, I'm a man with awakening desires. Don't push them too far. I fear in this state you may unintentionally ignite more passion than we can control."

The words tumbled from her lips before she could restrain herself. "We're getting married soon. Maybe my views on abstinence have been a little strict. Nobody is going to know or care if we make love before the wedding night."

His brows drew together. "That's the alcohol talking, Molly, not you. God will know. You had no problem waiting for the wedding night when you were engaged to Tom. You told me that yourself. It's important to you. Now drink your tea, and perhaps you'll come to your senses."

She withdrew her hand from his and curled her fingers around her teacup, taking a sip, then another. She knew he was right, but she felt frustrated somehow. Her senses were definitely not as sharp as usual. She would never have said something like that normally. Her unwavering faith had carried her through many years of difficulty and suffering, first with her father's decline in health and death, then her estranged mother's alcoholism that ensued. She'd felt pain over her unrequited love for Sherlock, a burden on her heart for him. She felt intensely that it was no accident he had survived so many death-defying situations. His life had a purpose. He needed to know that. Now, finally, he had accepted that for himself, and she had emerged from the tunnel of loneliness that had trapped her for years. She was anxious to finally get her new life started.

She struggled to find the right words to respond, to make him understand. "You're right. I had no problem waiting for marriage to consummate my relationship with Tom, and I realise now it is because he was not the right man for me. If I had married him, it would have been because I was being selfish, desperate for a family. But with you, I know it's right, especially now that you have become a Christian as well. You're the man God wanted for me. So yes, I am finding it difficult to control myself around you. I want to be with you, in every sense of the word."

His aquamarine gaze locked with hers. "I want that too. God knows, my body is craving what it never wished for before. I guess it's a good thing to feel that passion, it demonstrates that my love for you is not merely intellectual, it is physical as well. But we are going to do this the right way, the way God wants it, even if that means we need to be strong. We only have to wait a few weeks, not months."

She nodded. They continued sipping their tea, and it did help to clear Molly's head, at least a little.

When their tea was finished, Molly rose to take their cups to the sink. Her head felt clearer, but she wondered if Sherlock was going to offer just a brief kiss goodnight.

She stood at the sink for a moment, then felt him come to stand behind her. "I guess it's time to say goodnight, isn't it?" she asked, then turned around.

"Soon," he agreed, "but not quite yet. I think we can spend at least a little time in non-verbal communication."

Her lips tilted upwards at that. "I quite like that. Non-verbal communication." She lifted her hands to toy with his curls and was rewarded by the pleasure that swept through her as his lips met hers.

Her pulse accelerated, her chest rose and fell quickly as he plundered her mouth with his own, claiming possession of it.

His hands encircled her waist, pulling her against him. She could feel his desire for her, manifested not only physically, but also in the way his chest rose and fell rapidly as well.

His hands moved up to rub her back, and she longed for him to touch her breast again, even though she knew that taking those liberties would lead them into dangerous, forbidden territory. But it didn't make her want it any less. She was only human, after all. She admired Sherlock for his self-control when he drew back from her, his eyes darkened with passion.

"You intoxicate me, Molly Hooper," he said in a deep voice roughened by passion. "If we keep going this way, we will reach the point of no return, and in your current state of slight inebriation, I doubt you would tell me to stop."

She lowered her head, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Even without the alcohol, I would find it hard to stop," she admitted, biting her lip.

He placed a hand beneath her chin and tilted it upwards, so he could meet her eyes again with his. "We shall be strong for one another, remind ourselves that what we are looking forward to will come to fruition very soon."

He dropped his hand, took a pace backwards to leave a little distance between them, and his tone became matter-of-fact. "Would you be agreeable to me calling a meeting of the press tomorrow to formally announce our engagement? I feel if I wait too long, the news will leak, thanks to our waitress at the restaurant earlier."

"You don't want me to be there with you?"

"I would rather shield you from public scrutiny for as long as possible, but if you wish to be with me, I can set up the meeting for after your work day."

Molly thought for a moment. If he waited until after she had finished work the following day, it was quite possible the waitress might tell some friends, who might tell others, and the news would spread earlier anyway. "No, that's okay. You go ahead. And, um, should I meet your parents some time soon too? You can bring them here," she offered.

"Let me see about when we are to go to Sherrinford, and we'll work around that."

"I could come with you," Molly suggested. "I would kind of like to thank your sister."

He shook his head. "I think it would be more prudent to wait until such time as I can get through to her, if that's even possible."

She nodded. "I understand. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Of one thing you may be certain, Molly. I intend to see you every day. I will stop by the hospital tomorrow after work. If I make the announcement about our engagement in the morning, there will undoubtedly be paparazzi at the hospital, looking for a glimpse of you. I would rather be there when that happens. We will return here and make more plans for our wedding." His lips quirked. "I do have a little experience with that, as you know, although I never imagined putting my knowledge to practical use for myself. How does that sound?"

She smiled. "That sounds wonderful. I assume I will be moving to Baker Street after we are married?"

"I should prefer that, but it is open for discussion, should you wish otherwise."

Molly shook her head. "I've been renting this place for many years, but I'm sure the landlord won't have any problems finding another tenant. It is central London, you know."

His lips twitched. "I must admit, your voicemail message about being in the dead centre of town is amusing, knowing what your profession is. Rather clever."

"I'm sorry I didn't answer the first time, the other day." She furrowed her brow. "I did wonder why you tried again, but of course I know now that you could see I was home."

"And thank God for that. If you hadn't answered, even though there were not really any bombs, I expect my sister would have cut the feed and pretended the bombs had gone off, just to gauge my reaction." She saw him shudder slightly. "Like the dream I had last night."

Before she could speak, he stepped close again and cradled her face in his hands. "You are so precious to me, Molly. I don't know how I'd survive without you."

"God-willing, you won't have to find out," she responded before his lips met hers once again, less passionately than before, but still one of possession to which she surrendered without reservation.

Once again, he pulled back slowly. "I'm going to go home now. I'll text you after I've spoken with the reporters tomorrow."

He walked to where he had laid his Belstaff and put it on again as she opened the door for him. "I love you, Sherlock. I'll see you tomorrow," she said a little wistfully, wishing he could stay longer.

He bent to kiss her once more, briefly. "Love you too."

And then he was gone, leaving Molly alone with her thoughts.

She went through the motions of washing the teacups and watching the telly alone. She'd felt a little lonely at times before, but a taste of Sherlock's presence at her side had spoiled her, and she felt a sense of loss without him. She was glad she wouldn't have to wait too long until they were living together as man and wife.

She thought about texting her landlord to inform him of her future plans, but she decided it could wait until the news was out regarding her engagement. That way, the landlord would not be surprised that she was moving out.

When Molly got into bed that night, she thought about Sherlock and how much she was looking forward to being in his arms, sharing a bed. The idea did make her slightly nervous. After all, what virgin wouldn't be nervous about their first time? She knew about anatomy and how it was quite possible the first time would mean she experienced some discomfort, maybe even pain. But she tried to push that out of her mind. If that was the case, it would only be the first time, and she was sure the experience would be well worthwhile. Besides, they would have a lifetime together to learn about each other's bodies and to enjoy their intimacy. But the best thing, she thought to herself as weariness overtook her and sleep called to her, is that we are going to learn it together.

Molly received Sherlock's text the next morning where he stated the press conference had gone well, and that people expressed a lot of curiosity about her, especially in light of the fact he had never been known to have a romantic partner aside from his short liaison with Janine.

I did not set the record straight on that, though, his text continued. I did behave badly in using her, and if I revealed I was only using her for her connection to Magnussen, people might start asking questions about my connection with him.

Of course, I understand, was her response. Anyway, it was just tabloids, and I expect all but the most gullible would have taken them with a grain of salt.

His response came back quickly.

You thought they were true at first.

Only until you informed me otherwise and pointed out they were tabloids. At least after that I had my doubts. Seven times a night was rather outlandish anyway. I mean, is that even possible?

Her heartbeat quickened at his next response.

Guess we will have to test that, once we are married.

She returned to work, smiling.

Her friend and lab assistant, Kaitlyn, who was working beside her that day, suddenly exclaimed, "Molly, is that an engagement ring on your finger? Since when have you been dating someone new? Last I knew, you were still single after breaking off your engagement with Tom. What's going on?"

Molly had decided not to tell anyone she was engaged until she had a ring to prove it, and she had deliberately stayed silent today, wondering if anyone would notice. Kaitlyn knew Sherlock slightly, but Molly had tried to downplay their friendship, worried that Kaitlyn might suspect she was in love with him. She had not wanted her friend to feel sympathy for her. "Um, yeah, it's an engagement ring."

Kaitlyn put her hands on her hips. "So come on, Molly, spill the beans. Who's the lucky guy, and where have you been hiding him?"

Molly could feel the colour rising in her cheeks. Kaitlyn's main association with Sherlock was to observe the arrogant way he usually swept into the lab to take over a microscope. "Actually, you know him already. It's Sherlock."

Kaitlyn put her hands over her mouth. "Oh, my God. The brooding detective who has never given me the time of day? I know you've worked together, but when did this happen?"

Molly twiddled self consciously with her side braid. "Well, to be perfectly honest, the reason Tom and I split was because I had unresolved feelings for Sherlock, dating back to before he left London for two years."

Kaitlyn nodded. "That was before my time here. But Molly, why didn't you tell me about this? I thought we were best friends." Molly could hear a note of hurt in Kaitlyn's voice.

"There was no reason for me to say anything, Kaitlyn. What was the point in telling you I had an unrequited love for someone, when I never expected he would love me back?"

"Well, apparently he does or you wouldn't have that gorgeous ring on your finger now," Kaitlyn said, reaching for Molly's hand to inspect it more closely. "Wow, that heart shape is really romantic. So, what happened? I mean whoever heard of a person going from not being in a dating relationship to being suddenly engaged?"

Molly's lips quirked. "Well, it was a recent case. I can't tell you the details, they are confidential. Let me just say that it was during that time he realised he loved me as more than the friend he thought I was, and well, here we are, getting married in about five and a half weeks."

Kaitlyn's eyes widened. "What's the rush?"

"Kaitlyn, you know about my faith. That's another thing. Sherlock has become a Christian too, and we want to do things right in the eyes of God. That means no, uh, fooling around before we get married."

Kaitlyn dropped Molly's hand to place one on her shoulder. "Well, better you than me. I may not know Sherlock very well, but I will admit he's extremely easy on the eye. If I didn't already have a boyfriend, I might have been tempted to try to attract his attention."

Molly rolled her eyes. "I don't believe that for a minute. He's three years older than me, which makes him thirteen years older than you."

"Doesn't make him any less hot to look at. Well, I hope you'll at least invite me to the wedding."

Molly looked at her friend. "I can do better than that, if you are willing. Would you be my maid of honour? I need someone to stand up with me in the church."

Kaitlyn gasped. "Really? You want me to be your maid of honour?" She bent forward to give Molly a hug. "I'd be - honoured!"

Molly grinned. "That's great."

As the women worked together, Molly reflected that she had another friend from church she wanted to ask as well to be a bridesmaid, Kayla. Kayla knew she worked with Sherlock at times. She'd talked about him often enough. In fact, she suspected Kayla might have guessed that she had feelings for him.

At lunch time, Molly called Kayla, planning to leave a message if she didn't answer. Fortunately, Kayla answered. She was a nursery school teacher, and was also on her lunch break, as she told Molly. "I missed you on Sunday. Were you sick?"

"No, I had kind of a rough day on Saturday and didn't sleep well. But everything I'd been worried about turned out to have been for nothing. Actually, I have some rather wonderful news."

"A job promotion?" guessed Kayla, and Molly chuckled.

"Much better than that. I know you've probably suspected I had feelings for Sherlock. I've talked about him often enough."

"The thought definitely crossed my mind. So you're admitting it now?"

"Yes, because I don't need to hide it anymore." She couldn't contain her excitement, and the words burst forth like a gushing stream. "Sherlock told me he loves me, and we're getting married!"

There was silence on the other end of the line, and Molly knew she had shocked Kayla.

Finally, her friend spoke in a tentative tone. "You're not playing some odd prank on me?"

Molly hastened to assure her. "Of course not. Something rather difficult occurred that forced Sherlock to recognise his feelings for me, and we declared our love for one another. He has also become a Christian, Kayla, and that's what made me know that God was in this all along, directing everything."

"I'm so happy for you, Molly." Kayla's voice was sincere. A wistful note crept into her voice as she added," I wish there was someone out there for me too."

"Oh Kayla, I'm sure there is. We just have to wait for God's timing. Of course, I had begun to think God wanted me to stay single."

"Well, I hope you're right about there being someone out there for me. So, have you set a date?"

"You're going to think this is ridiculously fast, but we've decided on five weeks from Saturday. We know one another so well, and we don't want a long engagement. We're absolutely sure this is what God wants for us."

"Well, that does sound quick, but I don't blame you. You've obviously cared about Sherlock for a very long time. He's the reason you broke off your engagement, isn't he?" Kayla asked.

"He is. But I didn't want to just call to tell you my news. I also wanted to ask - would you be free to be my second bridesmaid? I'd love to have you be in my wedding." Molly bit her lips in anticipation as she waited for Kayla's response.

She smiled with relief when her friend said, "Molly, I would love to be in your wedding. Even if I never find my own husband, it will be lovely to be part of a wedding, somehow."

"Thank you, Kayla! I'll speak to you later to discuss it further. You will have to meet Kaitlyn, my maid of honour as well. She works with me at Bart's."

"That sounds great. Just call me or text me. I expect we will need to get bridesmaid dresses in a hurry. Luckily, my nights are entirely free."

Molly felt a sting of sympathy for Kayla. Her solitude matched Molly's own, although soon it would not be the case for Molly. "I will. Thanks for agreeing to be my bridesmaid."

"You are most welcome," responded Kayla.

Molly was very pleased to have accomplished those tasks. That was something to check off the list. She'd have to suggest Sherlock find an usher so that the numbers would be even. Mind you, they hadn't been even at John's wedding to Mary. John only had Sherlock as best man, while Mary had three bridesmaids.

As four o'clock approached, Molly kept glancing at her watch as she put the lab in order. Time had seemed to pass so slowly. Kaitlyn, who was helping her clean up, noticed.

"Anxious to see your man?"

Molly gave a sheepish grin. "A little. He's coming here, in case there are paparazzi around. He made an announcement about our engagement this morning."

Kaitlyn let out a whistle. "You aren't walking to the altar, you're galloping."

Molly giggled. "I guess so."

A voice spoke from the doorway, and Molly looked up. "Almost ready to go, love? As I expected, there are a few photographers outside."

"Yep. I'll be ready in a minute." She gestured towards Kaitlyn, who Sherlock had obviously not noticed. "You remember Kaitlyn, don't you?"

"Er, yes. Nice to see you again."

"You too. Congratulations. You're lucky to have found someone like Molly."

Molly blushed at her friend's praise.

"I know I am," responded Sherlock sincerely.

"Kaitlyn has agreed to be my maid of honour," said Molly, with a glance around the lab to make sure everything looked to be in its usual place.

Satisfied, she walked over to Sherlock, tucking her arm into his. "Let me get rid of my lab coat and grab my handbag." She looked back at Kaitlyn. "See you tomorrow."

"I'll wait a few minutes before I do the same," said Kaitlyn, offering a broad wink.

Molly couldn't repress a smile as she and Sherlock left the lab together. A locker room welcome kiss was definitely in the cards. She peeked up at Sherlock, and, judging by the smile that crossed his lips, she had the feeling he was thinking the same thing.

Author's note: Don't you just love a tipsy Molly? I love writing that kind of "happy with the world" Molly. But, as you can see, even a slight intoxication can release those inhibitions and lead to situations that put their ideals at risk. Thank goodness Sherlock is such a gentleman, don't you think?

Three chapters left. I hope you are still enjoying this story, even though at this point it is pretty drama-free - but fear not, there will still be some anxious moments for Sherlock that will happen on the wedding day. No more hints.

Hope to hear from you!