Sherlock had to give Molly's friend credit for being sensitive enough to say she would give them a couple minutes alone.
They walked to the locker room together. He deliberately paused in the exact same place he'd stood years earlier, where Molly would be able to see him via the mirror on the door of her locker.
She walked forward, removing her lab coat as she went, then opened the locker door.
Her eyes met his in the mirror, and she hastily hung her coat and grabbed her handbag, then slammed the locker shut before launching herself at him.
He almost staggered at the force of her onslaught, even as his arms came around her.
"Sherlock," she said in a breathy tone, "Kiss me like I wanted you to do that day when you came back."
He recalled the warm hug that had been the extent of their physical interaction at their reunion. It was definitely time to make amends on that score.
Without a word, he bent his head and captured her lips with his own, offering her the love he wished he'd been able to exhibit back then.
She returned his kiss enthusiastically, curling her arms about his neck and pressing her body against his in a way that increased his own ardour.
Finally they separated, Molly loosening her arms from their viselike grip around his neck, and he pressed his forehead against hers. "You do realise that, as an engaged woman at the time, a kiss like that would have been highly inappropriate?"
She blushed. "I know. That's the only thing that stopped me from flinging myself into your arms the way I did just now. I wanted to, and that made me question what kind of fiancée I was when I could be thinking that way."
His hands slid down to take hers in his, and he felt her ring. His mind flashed back to that day, remembering it in perfect clarity, and he frowned suddenly. "Come to think of it, I am quite certain you were not wearing an engagement ring that day, were you?"
Molly bit her lip. "You're right. I didn't like the way it caught at my gloves when I put them on, so I decided it was easier to leave the ring at home."
He fingered the ring on her hand. "And this one doesn't?"
She grinned suddenly. "Actually it does, but I don't care. This ring will only come off when I am doing post-mortems or other duties where I really can't afford to be wearing it. I don't think it would be fun to dig around in a body cavity for a dropped ring."
He had to smile at the image that came to mind of Molly moving aside different organs in search of a ring. "So, where will you put your ring to keep it safe on those occasions?" he asked, curious.
"I'll just use a safety pin and pin it close to my heart."
His lips curved upwards, and he would have kissed her again but for a cheery voice saying, "Maybe I should have given you a few more minutes."
Sherlock turned to see Kaitlyn grinning at them. "We were just leaving, Kaitlyn. You may proceed."
She smirked and moved past Molly and himself to go to her own locker.
Sherlock placed an arm around Molly's shoulders. "Shall we?"
"We shall," she responded, allowing him to lead her out of the room.
The photographers were still congregated outside the hospital, as he expected, and he kept a firm grasp of Molly's hand. He could tell she was slightly nervous. This was obviously not something she was used to, but she smiled bravely as flashbulbs went off in their faces.
A few reporters called out questions to her, but the only thing she did in response to one question, was to lift her left hand so that people could see the ring on her finger.
By the amount of photos that were taken, Sherlock fully expected the following day there would be pictures of that ring in the paper as well as his formal announcement of their engagement.
He hailed a passing taxi and opened the door for Molly to get in, waving off the still gathered crowd.
Inside the taxi, after Sherlock had provided Molly's address to the driver, he took her hand again. "Are you okay?"
She bit her lip. "I'm not used to being the centre of attention, but hopefully once the novelty wears off, things will go back to normal."
"I expect so." He rubbed his thumb gently against the back of her hand. You did well."
She laid her head against his shoulder. "If you hadn't been with me, I might not have coped as well, Sherlock. Thank you for coming to the hospital for me."
"He smiled. "Well, it was worth it, to get that rather passionate display of affection from you in the locker room."
She giggled.
"By the way, I did speak with Mycroft earlier, and I'll be going to Sherrinford on Saturday, along with my parents. Afterwards, we can either come to your place or go out to dinner. Which would be easier for you?"
She raised her head from his shoulder to look at him properly. "How about both? I think it would be easier to meet and talk a little in private, and then perhaps we can go out for a little engagement celebration dinner afterwards?" she suggested.
He nodded. "I like the sound of that. I'll text you once we have returned to London, so you know we are on our way."
He saw a slight look of apprehension cross Molly's face. "What if your parents don't think I'm good enough for you?"
His brows rose in astonishment. "And why on earth would they think that? You're intelligent, kind, beautiful, and you have all the qualities my mother would have ever wanted in a woman for me, not to mention your faith. Believe me, the fact that I credited you with becoming a believer will immediately hold you in high esteem in their eyes."
"The prodigal son returns to the fold," said Molly, and he saw the sweet dimple flash in her cheek.
"The prodigal son? I don't follow."
"It's a parable in the Bible about a son who demands his inheritance early from his father and goes off on his own. He squanders all his father's money in reckless living and ends up destitute, eventually realising what a fool he's been. He returns home to his father to beg to be allowed to be treated as a servant, but his father welcomes him with open arms and he is restored completely to the family. It's not an exact match for your situation, but the idea behind the story is to show that many people stray away from God the father, but finally come back. God is always waiting with open arms for us."
"Ah, I see what you mean. Apparently I have yet much to learn about the Bible." His brows drew together in concentration. "I don't recall reading that story, though. I'm sure I would have remembered it if I had."
"It's in the book of Luke. You probably didn't get to read that gospel yet.."
"Well, we shall have to read more together, and I hope you will continue guiding me."
Her hand, still securely clasped in his, squeezed gently. "I'll do my best."
When they arrived at Molly's flat, she ordered pizza for them for dinner.
He couldn't remember ever enjoying himself as much as he did with Molly while they discussed wedding plans. He'd never felt more relaxed.
To Sherlock's surprise, he discovered that Molly was not a fan of fruitcake either, particularly the candied peel part of it. They discussed colours, and Sherlock was happy to go with Molly's idea for her bridesmaids. Peach sounded very nice, and he could pair it with wearing grey himself. They would need to buy wedding rings. With the short notice, there wouldn't be time to have official invitations made, so they decided to print out their own and hand them out themselves. The guest list was to be family and friends. Molly had several colleagues she wished to invite, but things were to be kept low-key, which Sherlock was glad about.
"So," she said finally, "with me having two bridesmaids, do you want to include your brother in the wedding?"
Sherlock made a face. "My brother is not a fan of weddings. He turned down John and Mary's wedding invitation."
Molly's lips pressed together. "You don't think he will want to attend? He's your brother, for goodness' sake!"
"Oh, I'm sure he will attend, but as far as being a part of the wedding, I have my doubts."
"Well, it was just a suggestion. I thought it might be a nice gesture."
He saw Molly looked a little disappointed, so he said, "I suppose I could be persuaded with a kiss or two."
She smiled and kissed his cheek. "There you go."
"Not the kind of kiss I had in mind." He murmured the words, leaning towards her as he did so. They had not kissed since leaving the hospital, and he felt they deserved a little break from their wedding planning.
She giggled and closed the distance between them. Their lips met, and he lifted her onto his lap so they could kiss properly, keeping his hands at her waist. But he did explore a little beyond her mouth this time, kissing the softness of Molly's cheeks, the place where her dimple flashed, the curve of her jaw.
He found it particularly interesting that Molly seemed especially responsive when his mouth moved along the skin of her neck down her throat, and he could feel the vibration of her rapid pulse against his lips as she hummed with pleasure.
Her fingers played lightly with his curls, twirling and twisting them, and he finally stopped his exploration to say with a grin, "I think you may have an obsession with my hair, Molly."
She blushed, and he loved the way the dimple appeared in her cheek as she gave him a rather sheepish smile. "I think you have beautiful hair, Sherlock." Her hand came up to touch the curls that fell over his forehead. "I especially love these curls."
"Does that mean I can never cut my hair short?"
She giggled and moved a hand to place it against his chest, where his heart was beating rapidly. "It is your heart I love most, Sherlock, what is inside you, but I'll admit, your curly hair is definitely one of my favourite physical attributes for you. Of course, you do have incredible eyes and a pair of lips I could go on kissing forever."
He felt almost embarrassed by her compliments. Sure, he knew women found him attractive for some incomprehensible reason, but he'd never encouraged the advances of a woman, well, except for Janine, and that had been for a specific purpose. He knew Molly had had a crush on him in the early days of their working together. He'd taken advantage of that, but when had her crush changed to something more? He decided to ask the question.
"Molly, I'd like to know when your feelings for me changed from a crush to love. Do you know?"
She shifted slightly on his lap to place a little more space between them, looking directly into his eyes. "I'm not exactly sure. I think the initial physical attraction I felt for you slowly transformed over time into an admiration for the way you approached your work, your complete dedication to seeing justice done. When Jim from IT showed interest in me, I decided to test my feelings for you, see if someone else could distract me from you." Her lips quirked. "As you know, that was a complete disaster. Maybe I wasn't only testing myself but you as well, to get your reaction, but I really wasn't interested in Jim."
He couldn't help letting out a derisive snort. "I'm very pleased to hear that you weren't actually serious about him."
"Of course I wasn't, and that same night I broke things off with him. I know now that his interest was in you and what I knew about you, anyway." She paused for a moment, but he did not speak, so she continued. "Then of course there was that Christmas. I had decided it was my opportunity to try to get you to notice me." Her face clouded slightly. "Of course, that was a disaster too." She looked down then, and he knew she was remembering the hurt he had inflicted on her.
His hands had remained at her waist, but now, he released one to tilt her chin back upwards. "Molly, I did not understand my own feelings for you then, but I can acknowledge now that I was jealous. I really was convinced you were dressed up for someone else, and I didn't like it at all. When I saw the tag on that present, I didn't know how to react. I wasn't ready to deal with my feelings for you, and I was rather shocked to discover that apparently you still had feelings for me. I was also embroiled in that Irene Adler case."
He bent forward to kiss her lips lightly. "But knowing you still had feelings for me, when I needed help to fake my death, I was fairly certain you would do so."
Her voice was almost a whisper as she said, "I would have done anything for you, Sherlock. I'm glad you showed enough trust in me to ask for my help."
His fingers traced the curve of her cheek with his thumb. "I'm sorry for all the hurt I've caused you in the past, Molly. Thank you for not giving up on me."
The dimple appeared in her cheek again as she smiled at him. "I guess God had His plans for us."
"It certainly appears so." Once again he kissed her, but didn't prolong it. Those little flickers of desire within him could all too easily take control if he allowed them to. And she certainly didn't help matters with those little sighs of pleasure she insisted on making every time they kissed.
With great reluctance, he dragged his lips away from her inviting mouth. "I had better get home. Tomorrow, I'll come to the hospital and we can go find our wedding rings, if that would be agreeable to you?"
Molly slid off his lap. "Sounds good to me."
He left Molly's flat, feeling good about all they had accomplished in such a short time.
The rest of the week passed by quickly as they worked on completing things on their wedding to-do list. Mycroft agreed, albeit reluctantly, to be an usher for the wedding. Rings were bought, a cake and flowers ordered, invitations printed and handed out. The publicity surrounding their engagement once it hit the papers peaked and dropped off just as quickly. The Registry office appointment was attended and their intent to marry successfully submitted.
On Saturday, Sherlock went back to the island prison that had been the venue for his emotional breakthrough. While he was playing his violin for Eurus, coaxing her to join him, which she eventually did, he knew Molly was out with her bridesmaids looking for bridal gowns and bridesmaid dresses.
As the helicopter descended into London with Sherlock and his family after the visit to Sherrinford, he sent a text to Molly.
Had a rather good session with my sister. She did not talk, but she did join me in playing her violin. We have just arrived back in London, and Mycroft has given me permission to use his limousine to convey my parents and myself to your flat. My parents are very much looking forward to meeting you.
He smiled at her response.
I think I'm ready to meet them. I changed my clothes three times, I was so nervous. I hope they won't think I'm overdressed, but seeing as we are going to a restaurant, I want to look nice.
Sherlock waited until he and his parents were settled into the limousine to head for Molly's before he responded.
I look forward to seeing what you are wearing. We are currently in the limo, on our way to your place. Was your day a success with dress shopping?
I found my dream dress, yes. And bridesmaid dresses have been ordered, so it was a productive morning.
Sherlock smiled. He couldn't wait to see Molly walk down the aisle to him.
His mother noticed. "Texting your fiancée, I suppose?"
He grinned. Fiancée, he liked that. "Yes, Mummy. Molly told me she found her wedding dress."
"That's lovely. I would like to lend her something for your wedding."
Sherlock looked at her in surprise. "Really? What?"
"You'll just have to wait and see, dear," came his mother's enigmatic reply.
Upon arrival at Molly's flat, Sherlock knocked, and the door was opened almost immediately. Molly had apparently been watching out for them. He couldn't help admiring the way she looked. She had chosen to wear that black dress with gold trim that had caused his jealousy all those years ago when he had thought she was wearing it for another man. He was glad he would have the opportunity to set things right and appreciate her properly in the dress.
He gave her a quick kiss on the lips, then walked into the flat, followed by his parents.
"Molly," he said, once they were inside, "this is my father, William Holmes, and my mother, Violet."
Molly gave them a shy smile. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes."
As usual, Sherlock's mother spoke on behalf of both herself and her husband. "We are very pleased to meet you, Molly. I am also very grateful that you have managed to unlock my son's heart, not only in love, but also with your influence in bringing him to faith."
Molly blushed. "I just tried to plant a few seeds, and the Holy Spirit made them grow. Please, won't you both sit down?"
She gestured at the sofa, and Sherlock's parents sat together.
They talked for several minutes, and then Sherlock's mother said, "Sherlock was telling me you found your wedding dress today. I have a piece of jewellery that belonged to my grandmother, and I would like to lend it to you for your wedding. Of course, I do not have it here, because we have not returned home in the past several days, but if you would like to see it, I will bring it back with me when we return to London for your wedding. It is a sapphire and diamond necklace. I thought perhaps it could fulfill most of the requirements of that old rhyme." She smiled. "You know, the 'something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue' one."
Molly, who had perched herself on the arm of the armchair in which Sherlock was sitting, clasped her hands together in delight. "Oh, that sounds absolutely wonderful. I'm sure it would be lovely, and I'd be honoured to wear it."
Sherlock's mother beamed. "Excellent. And speaking of jewellery, I have not yet had a chance to take a look at the ring Sherlock purchased for you. Of course, I did see a picture of it in the papers, but I would very much like to see it first hand."
Molly stood and walked towards Sherlock's mother, extending her left hand.
His mother looked at the ring, then gave Sherlock an approving nod. "You did a very good job, my son."
"It is a very lovely ring," agreed Sherlock's father, who had remained mostly quiet up to this point.
They talked for a few minutes more until Sherlock said, "I'm going to give the limo driver a call now to come back and pick us up to take us to dinner."
He did so, and a few minutes later, they left the flat.
Sherlock was pleased that his parents seemed to genuinely like Molly, but then again, how could they not? She was intelligent, beautiful, and completely natural in the way she spoke. Sherlock's mother asked questions on how the wedding planning was going, and once again offered her help if any was needed.
"Thank you for the offer," said Molly, "but I think we are actually doing pretty well, despite the short notice."
"And you will be moving to Baker Street?" enquired his mother as they waited for their dinner orders at the restaurant.
Molly smiled. "Yes. We are planning to start packing some things up and transferring them to Baker Street over the next few weeks. Fortunately, Baker Street is in need of some new furniture, which I can provide. God has an amazing way of working things out." She flashed Sherlock a smile.
He grinned back at her. "Yet another reason why a short engagement is fortuitous."
A little while later, while waiting for their dessert, Sherlock's mother asked another question. "Molly, do you have any family of your own we will meet at the wedding?"
Sherlock saw Molly's face fall. "I have no close family. My parents were both only children, and my father passed away when I was eighteen. My mother and I, well, we have been estranged for several years."
Sherlock's mother reached over and patted her hand. "I'm very sorry to hear that, my dear. I hope you will consider us your family now. I am very much looking forward to having a daughter-in-law and to perhaps having some grandchildren as well."
Sherlock and Molly exchanged glances. He realised this was something they had not yet discussed, but from what Molly had said about Tom and herself, he knew she wanted a family, so he decided to put forth the answer his mother was hoping for, and at the same time, reassure Molly that he was not averse to the idea of children.
"We hope to be able to do that, Mummy. I am sure any children of ours will be terribly spoiled by you and Daddy."
Molly gave him a dazzling smile. If they had not been in a public restaurant, not to mention in the company of his parents, he would have leaned over and kissed her then and there. The way her smile illuminated her face made his heart somersault in his chest.
His mother chuckled. "Oh, you can be certain of that."
After the meal, when they were settled back in the limousine, Sherlock's mother said to him, "We could have the driver drop Molly off home, then you, and he can return your father and myself to Mycroft's."
"No need to take me to Baker Street. I will return home later this evening. I would like to spend a little more time with my fiancée," said Sherlock, and he reached over to clasp Molly's hand.
"Of course, they need to spend some time together," agreed Sherlock's father. "I still remember when we were engaged, Violet. We used to sneak off at every opportunity for a kiss and cuddle."
Sherlock's mother smiled broadly. "And after we were married, we'd sneak off at family events to get some alone time as well. Remember that one time where we had a little tryst in that gazebo?"
Sherlock frowned at his mother. "Please, Mummy, I have no desire to hear it. It is unpleasant enough to think about you and Daddy having three children together, let alone hear about your intimate exploits."
He didn't know why that set his parents and Molly to laughing.
Finally, his father said, "Son, one day you will understand that the passage of time doesn't mean that your relationship becomes one of only platonic love. I'm sure you will still find your wife attractive and desirable, even after many years, just as I do your mother."
Sherlock gave a short huff, but reflected that he was certain his own love for Molly would not diminish. Each day that passed it became stronger, as did his attraction to her, and the desire to be with her physically.
As soon as Sherlock and Molly waved farewell to the departing limo when they arrived at her flat, they went inside, and Sherlock helped Molly off with her jacket, then took off his coat.
He took her in his arms immediately. She looked so exquisite in that dress, and he'd been longing to kiss her properly all day.
"You look like an angel, Molly," he told her, and she smiled. Then his mouth descended upon hers and he kissed her with all the passion and longing he felt for her.
He took advantage of her bared shoulders to kiss them, feeling the softness of her skin as he moved his lips from one shoulder to the other. He was strongly tempted to slide the straps from her shoulders, but restrained himself. She aroused his desire so easily. It was astounding to him that he'd been so oblivious to her charms before.
He could feel Molly's hands grasping the back of his jacket, see the way her chest rose and felt quickly. It was exquisite torment. He felt that longing to explore her body more with his hands. Oh, five weeks was entirely too long!
He returned to kissing her mouth, enjoying that action unashamedly, until he knew he had to stop.
They struggled for air, and he stroked the back of Molly's head as she rested her head against his thudding chest.
After a couple minutes, she raised her head to look at him. "Thank you for being strong, Sherlock, for knowing our limits. I feel as if you are doing a better job at handling things than I am."
He gave her a wry smile. "Perhaps the control I have exerted over my emotions for so long makes it bearable, but you don't make it easy, Molly." He placed a hand on the strap of her dress. "The way you are dressed tonight especially tempts me."
She bit her lip. "Alright, for the next five weeks, I will make sure I do not dress in anything sexy."
He kissed her forehead. "I think you are sexy, no matter what you wear, but that might be a good idea. We need to limit temptation when possible."
"So, no sexy clothes, no alcohol. What else do we add to the list?"
"I'd suggest you put on a burka to hide your face and body from tempting me, but that may not be entirely practical."
She giggled. "Probably not. And you need to stop looking at me with those sexy bedroom eyes."
He blinked in surprise. "I can't help my eyes, nor the way I look at you."
She sighed. "I know. I'm just kidding. But you do have a habit of giving me smouldering looks that make my knees weak. I'll never forget the one you gave me that day after I examined you in the ambulance."
"I didn't mean it to be smouldering. I meant it to be a kind of apology for the hurt I was causing you, to tell you without words that it was all part of a plan."
She snorted. "I was supposed to get all that from one look?"
He dusted the back of his hand against her cheek. "Well, I'm sure you heard me telling John it was a plan, didn't you?" Did you really think I'd have gone back to using for no reason?"
She chewed on her lower lip. "I know, I did hear that, but I wasn't sure if you were in your right mind. People don't usually drive themselves to the brink of death in order to solve a crime." Her own hand came up to touch his face tenderly. "You won't ever go to extremes like that again, will you?"
"Never," he promised. "I will not put my life in jeopardy that way when I have so much to live for - a wife, and hopefully, a family."
Her eyes searched his. "So, you really were sincere in what you told your mother about having children.?"
"Of course I was. I would never lie to my mother. I think it would be delightful to procreate with you." His voice dropped to a deeper tone as he whispered, "And I am very much looking forward to the process of that procreation."
She hummed with pleasure at his words. "Me too."
He didn't linger much longer. They still needed to get through the next few weeks and limit the long, passionate embraces. They would have all the time in the world after they were married.
He left her with a last, tender kiss and headed back to the sparsely furnished Baker Street that had always just been a place to lay his head, rather than a home. But he knew it would feel like home once Molly was there with him permanently.
Author's note: The wedding is getting closer! Did you enjoy seeing Molly meet Sherlock's parents? For my eagle-eyed regular readers, you may recognize the offer of the loaned necklace is borrowed from my initial Journey story.
I tried to write a very abridged version for planning a wedding so I wouldn't bog down the story too much.
Did you like the little prodigal son analogy? In some ways, I feel like the canon Sherlock distanced himself from his parents, perhaps because of guilt over his own drug exploits. But at least, in this story, he has reconciled with them properly thanks to his new faith. For me, as a Christian, it is so important to be quick to forgive, to not hold grudges. I hope you like the change in Sherlock's behaviour in showing more sensitivity to his parents.
I look forward to hearing from you with your thoughts on this chapter. To those of you who I know already will review - you are such a blessing to me with your encouragement of my work. It's appreciated more than you know, and it keeps me motivated to continue writing in this way. As Sherlock said to Molly in that hallway, "You made it all possible". Without the support I've received, I would have left the site a long time ago in disappointment and despair in feeling people didn't really want to hear what I have to say, that people have no interest in reading stories that contain traditional values in a modern world.