Sherlock grumbles as he saunters down the sidewalk. Oh, how he wished he were on a case, but no. It was errands day. Since John and Rosie moved out, he was forced to leave the comforts of the newly renovated 221B to purchase groceries when there is so little in the cupboards and fridge that it would be impossible for him to survive.

It had been eight months since the Sherrinford incident with Eurus and all has been calm. Good, even. John and Rosie come around when there is a case to be investigated. Mrs. Hudson is more than willing to watch the little girl when needed. Sherlock knowing her the way he does knows that this is most likely due to the fact that her sons were killed so long ago as children due to her drug-running husband. There isn't a day that goes by that Sherlock isn't glad he ensured that bastard's execution. Due to the loss, Mrs. H probably longs to be around children or grandchildren. Plus, Rosie is similar to the likes of that and as close she will get to being a grandmother. Also, Sherlock and John have always seen her as a second mother. Especially Sherlock, since his mother had known her for decades.

Strolling into Tesco's, he grabs a small basket and heads does down the aisles one by one, strategically, purposely saving the milk for last. Once he picks up everything he needs, he checks out without any incidents with the chip and pin machine and leaves the store. "Ugh, how people can stand this place is beyond me", he thinks to himself.

Keeping attuned to his surroundings he makes his way back to Baker Street. As he passes a corner, a familiar laugh catches in his ears, making him stop dead in his tracks. Looking around for the source of the familiar, yet offending sound, he spots what he wishes he hadn't. Molly Hooper. In a nice dress. At a nice restaurant. Sitting in outdoor dining. With a man that isn't him.

Scowling, he had half a mind to storm right over to them and put an end to that. However, he quickly recants thoughts of those actions, as he had promised her after Sherrinford that he would respect her choices and not do destructive, spur-of-the-moment things without thinking. He didn't notice that he was standing there at the corner of the sidewalk staring down the sidewalk towards her until a bloke yelled at him from behind to get out of the way and shoved past. Sherlock studies the man that she is with for a moment before quickly continuing on his way back to his flat.

"What business could she have with a tall, scruffy-faced, jolly-eyed, outgoing ginger!?", he mumbles angrily. "And looking as good as she did with him. Perfectly complementary makeup, freshened hair dye that brings out the natural auburn in her hair, and…and...a genuine smile. Damn." Her genuine happiness was something Sherlock had long since stolen from her on many an occasion. He will always have regrets for his past behavior but thought that he had made up for it. Especially since telling that he meant the "I love you" that they shared, however pressured and threatened by his cruel sister.

Barreling up the stairs of 221B, he frustratingly throws the groceries in random places and huffs, plopping down into his chair in a curled-up position. A moment later, Mrs. Hudson follows suit, knocking on the open door. "Yoo-hoo!", I brought you some tea. You must be a bit chilly from walking all the way to Tesco's. Why did you walk?"

"Not now, Mrs. Hudson."

"Oh now...what's wrong?"

"I said not now!", he snaps.

"Sherlock Holmes, how many times have I told you that I am sick of that tone!?"

"Then why are /you/ using it?"

"It's my house. I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper! I thought I was a good friend too, but since you want to give me attitude, I guess I'll take my peach-infused tea back downstairs", she snarks and turns to return the way she came.

"Hudders, wait." Sherlock sits up and groans, ruffling his hair in annoyance. "The peach tea that I like?"

"I guess you won't find out."

"I'm sorry", he sighs. "Now can I have some?"

She smirks a bit. "Well...I suppose. But only because I can't drink a whole pot myself. I assume you don't want to speak of your troubles then. Are you having a domestic with John again? I swear if you ruin my visits with that darling baby, I'll have your head."

"Ah, nice to know my landlady is as morbid as I am. Always a pleasure, Mrs. H."

"Stop with the sarcasm and tell me what you're all up in arms about."

He growls annoyedly and sits back with his tea, sipping it after she poured him some. "Nothing. Just...Molly."

"Molly? Why? What's wrong with her, how is she doing? I haven't seen her recently."

"She's great, apparently", he mutters.

"That's good...but you don't seem very enthused...?"

"She's mine", grumbles. "Not Mr…Ginger's."

"Ahhhh I see." Mrs. Hudson laughs and Sherlock scowls at her.

"What!?"

"You've got your first love and it's been complicated, and you're jealous she's keeping her distance, and with another man. I have to tell you that in my opinion, with everything that happened I don't blame her for wanting a bit of space from your type of life."

"Good thing I wasn't looking for your opinion."

"I think you should give John a call. I think he would be the best to go to for advice on that subject."

"A widower single father who married an ex-CIA assassin unbeknownst to him then nearly hooked up with my extremely psychopathic little sister while still married? That's the man with the best advice for me?"

"Dear, Molly is a sensible woman who cuts up the dead for a living, dated the napoleon of crime and then dumped him, and subsequently helped you fake your own suicide off the side of a building. No offense to her, but she isn't exactly the most ordinary woman, either."

"Mhh...then she shouldn't want some boring businessman. I could tell by his suit jacket. Cuffs slightly more faded and creased at the bottom ends indicating heavy computer work, small smudge on the side of his palm from writing up proposals most likely, and shoes he had just recently shined for the purpose of the date that he had been wearing all day, going by how he didn't notice one of the ties was coming loose after his walk from the tube. He's not her type. He's too…normal."

Martha chuckles softly and leaves the pot of tea. "Well good luck. She's a sweet girl."

"Mhm", he mumbles and waves her away absently. After pondering and drinking half of his tea, he slips his mobile out of his pocket and looks at John's number sighing and hesitating for a few moments. He really isn't in the mood for his friend's sarcasm right now, but Hudders is right. He is probably the best option at this stuff, considering his friend group. Taking the plunge, he presses the call button and cringes, putting it to his ear.

"Sherlock? Since when do you not text?"

"Starting off a bit strong with the sarcasm today, aren't we?"

"No, genuinely confused. You always claim you 'prefer to text'...sooo...is there a case?"

"No..it's...something else."

"Okay. Well, Rosie will be up from her nap soon, so what is it?"

"She's...erm...on a date", he says quietly.

"She? You are interested in someone? Is this real life? Or another one of your games?"

Sherlock groans. "No, John. It's not a game. And I would think it was obvious who it is. But then again, you are pretty ignorant for a man who has been married."

John sighs. "Who, Sherlock?"

He stays quiet for a moment, wondering if he should actually tell him, and what the response will be.

"Sherlock? Hello? Sherlock?"

"I'm here. Look maybe I should figure this out myself..."

"Sherlock! Who? Just tell me."

"Molly."

There is another moment of silence, then John raises his voice. "Molly!? As in Molly Hooper, Molly?"

"Well, you /were/ there when I told her my...how I feel."

"What? When? I would never ever have thought…this better not be one of your ploys!"

"It's not a ploy, John! You were there in Sherrinford! You were there when Eurus made...made me tell her. She knew the secret nobody knew, as Mycroft said. She knew how I felt about Molly. But I can't...can I? I can't feel that way. She's been my secret, that's kept her safe. I don't want her in danger, John. But I guess that's not an issue now because she has some new bloke. Some ginger-haired, businessman bloke!"

"Sherrinford!? Sherlock, Eurus forced you to say that. Are you actually telling me that you meant it when you told Molly that you loved her? I thought you were distraught after because you'd given her false hope."

"No...it was because the secret was out, and Eurus knew, and she is dangerous. And now Molly sort of knows and I can't do anything about it, or she'll be in constant danger."

"I think you should talk to her about it. But, if she is in fact in a relationship, you need to respect that. So...let her know that you weren't lying and that you'll respect what she chooses to do next."

"I went there after Sherrinford and I told her that I meant it. We had a very nice conversation and it was...nice. She could have been a lot harsher at first, but it turned out okay. I've been giving her space. But she does know how I feel, and she went on to date this random bloke anyway."

"So Sherlock Holmes has a broken heart. Or jealously, which is probably more likely. But wow...I'm glad you kind of took my advice about how a romantic entanglement would, in fact, complete you as a human being. Just talk to her Sherlock. That's always the first step. But try not to be so...Sherlockian."

"Pfft. That's not even a thing."

"It is."

"Okay, maybe it is. But whatever."

"Now, I've got to go. Rosie's awake. Let me know how it turns out."

"Right." He sighs and hangs up, pacing around aimlessly for a while before deciding to finish his tea and treat himself to some store-bought gingernuts, even if they aren't as great as his mother's or Molly's.

Afternoon turns to evening, and evening turns to night as Sherlock ponders his next step, the only thing on his mind since he hasn't had any new clients this week.

The next day Sherlock bursts into Bart's Pathology Lab. Molly jumps a bit, startled. "Sherlock! You scared me half to death!"

"I need to talk to you."

"Okay..." She puts down her lab equipment and slips her goggles and gloves off. "What's up? Do you need to see a body for a case?"

"What? Oh, no. No case yet."

"Okay, well what is it?"

"Well...this may be a longer conversation, so can I come over to your house tonight?"

Molly giggles a bit, and Sherlock furrows his brow.

"You're asking permission to come over? Wow, we have turned over a leaf."

He smirks a bit. "I told you I'd try harder to not be so...Sherlockian, as John puts it."

"Well, it's not all bad. Also, I guess you can. I don't have any plans yet."

"Yet?"

"I won't have any plans tonight."

"Good."

Molly raises an eyebrow. "Good?"

"Er...good because I need to have a conversation with you."

"So I can't get a hint about what this is about? I'm worried. Are you okay? You're not on drugs again, are you?"

"What? No, no! No drugs. I'll just...see you at 7:00?"

"That works."

Sherlock nods and motions his hand towards the beakers. "Right. As you were." He turns on his heel and strides out of the lab, his coat billowing behind him.

Molly bites her lip, puzzled as to what is so urgent, but tries to put it in the back of her mind as she turns back to her research.

That night at 7 Sherlock shows up to her door. He knows that it is absolutely ridiculous for him to be nervous, as it's the woman he has knows for over ten years now. He can do this. His hand hovers over the knocker for a minute and the door opens before he can even touch it. Molly laughs softly. "You've bad at knocking on doors and ringing doorbells for some reason. Plus, you're used to breaking in."

Sherlock snorts. "That's not wrong. Though I prefer the term "checking in without permission."

"Mhm, suuure. Come in."

Sherlock waltzes into her house and feels a tug at his leg followed by purring. "Oh...hello again, Tobias."

"Toby."

"You named him Tobias."

Molly rolls her eyes. "And your mother named you William."

"Ugh. Touché."

"I knew I'd win with that one", she grins.

Sherlock sniffs the air and gasps. "Did you make gingernuts?"

"Yes", she chuckles. "I was in a baking mood when I got home and I figured since you were coming over, and I know they're your favorite I'd make them."

"Oh my God, the store-bought ones can't even compare!" He rushes to her kitchen and pops a couple in his mouth. "Mmm."

"So are you going to discuss what you came here for, or are you just going to raid my sweets?"

Sherlock goes over and sits, clearing his throat. "Well, there really is no decent way to ask you, so I'm just going to come out with it."

"Ask what?"

"Do you have a new boyfriend?"

Molly's face burns up slightly and she looks at her hands, twisting them within each other.

"I see...well, I guess it's not a long discussion after all."

"Yes, but he's not...new...exactly."

Sherlock looks confused. "I don't understand."

"He was my boyfriend and friend in University. His name is Kaylan. We were good friends in med school and then we tried dating. It didn't work much because of our schedules and work lives and then we sort of drifted apart by the time we graduated. Apparently, a couple of years after he moved to Dublin. But recently he saw my article in the papers and he was coming to London for a medical conference anyway and he decided to stop into Bart's for a visit. It was nice. We just seemed to click again. We got coffee and had a nice conversation and he then asked me on a date. I said yes because I always wondered what would have happened if we never grew apart. It was a nice luncheon. He's a really good guy. And he's successful too. He's in medical sales. Equipment and such. In his free time, he sometimes volunteers at pop-up clinics for low-income families. It's been really nice reconnecting..."

Sherlock tries his best to not let his face fall, but he can't seem to fully hide his disappointment. "Well, I suppose our timing is never quite right." He stands up and adjusts his coat. "As I've said before, I hope you'll be very happy Molly Hooper."

"Wait Sherlock...what do you mean our timing isn't right?"

"You know what."

"No, I don't know what."

"Of course you do."

Molly's face falls. "Now? Now, Sherlock?"

"It was true eight months ago, Molly. But I respected the fact that you needed space because I know that everything that transpired was crazy. But when I came over that night and I explained everything to you, and I told you that it was true, I did mean it."

"I-...I wanted to believe that. But you have to admit Sherlock, we don't have the best track record. Even in friendship. And you alone...look at what you did to Janine."

"I know that was wrong! I don't know how many times I have to say that. I know. I KNOW. But you're not Janine. You're Molly Hooper. You're the woman I've known for a decade now. The woman that I trust more than any other. The woman who started me on the right path of friendship, because I had no friends before I met you. After I met you, I began seeing Lestrade as a friend, and not just a confidante. Then John. You helped me since I started this job. This crazy job, the only one in the world that I invented. You've been there every step. I took advantage of having you in my corner, even in the background. I took advantage of you as a safety net for my self-destruction, and I am sorry. I know this is my own fault. I know. Timing is screwed up because I was selfish, and stupid, and a bastard to your feelings when you had the, for me. Now that it's my turn, that I thought that maybe finally you could be mine, that I could try to be yours, you're involved with a man you've loved before. So maybe our timing isn't supposed to work out. I get that now. I really really do hope that you are very happy."

Molly tears up, her lip trembling a bit. "Sherlock..."

"I know, Molly. You don't have to say anything. You're still one of the best parts of my life. You always will be. That's what friends are for, right?"

"Right...friends. I'll be seeing you."

"I'll be seeing you..."

Sherlock walks out and hails a cab, curling up in the back seat with an overwhelming feeling to cry, reminiscent of the feeling he had when his mother told him that Redbeard was gone.

A couple of months later, they have remained friends and been civil towards one another. Molly had helped him with cases as needed and he has talked to her whenever he needed to vent like he always has. Of course the tension and awkwardness has been there, but only a bit more than usual.

Walking into Bart's, a different pathologist is there working, and he knows something isn't right. He knows Molly's schedule like the back of his hand, and she was not planning on taking any vacations, as she usually lets him know in advance. Quickly going back the way he came, he hails a cab to her house immediately.

Once he arrives, he sees her little yellow bug in the driveway and sighs in relief. He picks her lock and goes in.

"Molly?"

Molly peeks around the corner from her kitchen in a large t-shirt that she nearly swims in, and sweatpants. "Sherlock? What are you doing here? I thought you stopped picking my lock."

"I...", he looks over her and furrows his brow. "I went to Bart's and you weren't there, and I know you work on Tuesdays, so I didn't know what happened. I thought I should check...why /are/ you home?"

"What, I'm not allowed to take a vacation day?", she mumbles.

"You are...it's just that you usually tell me, in case there's a case..."

"I don't need to tell you everything about my life, nor do I need your approval to take a day off."

"That's not what I said." Sherlock sighs and sits next to her on the sofa. "Do you...want to tell me the real reason?"

Molly looks away ashamed and crosses her arms. "Not particularly..."

"Well, going by your particular pattern I would say that Kyler broke up with you by the way you're acting but seeing as everything was going well, I don't know why...did he?"

"Kaylan. It's Kaylan", she huffs.

"Right...so..."

"Yes! Okay? Yes, he broke up with me. He went back to Dublin and said he didn't want to keep traveling here just to date me. And there was no way I was leaving my own career behind, so that was that."

"Oh. Molly, I'm-"

"What? You're what, Sherlock? Sorry? I know you're not sorry, so just save it."

"Fine. But I am sorry that it hurt you. I've recently come to know what that feels like..."

Molly sniffles and looks at him. "I didn't mean to snap at you, I apologize."

"It's alright."

She blushes and looks down at her hands. "For the record, I did like him. I liked him back in Uni too. But I think I was fooling myself, thinking that his success changed him as a whole. He's okay as a friend, but he's a rubbish partner. I just wanted to be hopeful, y'know? I wanted to think the best of him."

"I know you did. That's what you do. You see the best in people, even me, Molly."

"When you came over and we had that talk, it killed me watching you leave. I had wanted to try for us for so long. But I had just told Kaylan that I would try with him, and I couldn't go back on my word. That would have been cruel. I was a bit stuck. You're not my second choice. You've been my first choice since the day I met you. You could have scared me away a million times, but I know your heart. I know a part of you that society and paparazzi and the news networks don't see. I've always treasured that."

"The parts of me that you see haven't always been the best. You pulled me back from an overdose four times, last time I almost died and every time I'm like that I'm a total prick to you and everyone around me. You could have easily told me to go fuck myself a million times over for the things I have done and said to you."

"That's true. But I couldn't let go of who you really are. That's what I love."

Sherlock swallows and looks at her, raising an eyebrow. "Love?"

Her face flushes red and she chews her lip. "Oh God, sorry, I-"

"Shhh, Molly Hooper. I love you too. I'm saying it, and I'm meaning it, and after all the times timing has screwed us over...I'd really like to try. I know I am an impossible man. I know there are things I won't be great at; I know that I am not ordinary. I don't want to pressure you either. After everything we have been through, I don't want you to slip through my fingers again. I've never done this though, so...you'll have to teach me a lot. If you even want to pursue this..."

Molly grins and blushes. "Shut up, now, please."

Sherlock shuts his mouth and looks at her.

"I want to try. I do, Sherlock", she giggles happily.

He grins and nods. "Really? Great."

"Let's start with the riding crop", Molly moves to get up.

Sherlock's eyes widen and Molly glances at him then cracks up laughing. "I'm kidding! Just a joke. You look so scared", she giggles.

"Molly, don't give me a heart attack."

"How about a kiss? Can you handle that?"

"I think I can handle that", he smirks playfully. "Oh, and just so you know, once you've accepted me as your partner, and we seal the deal with this kiss, there is nooo turning back. You are mine Miss Hooper. Are you prepared for that?"

Blushing, she scoots closer to him and drags her fingers through his curls, his eyes fluttering a bit with the sensation. "I'm more than prepared, I'm thrilled to be."

With that, they seal their fate with a tender kiss; one that seemingly transcends time as it begins their future.

One year later, Molly takes on her new role as Dr./Mrs. Margaret Holmes, and eleven months after that, their first-born daughter is born; a near perfect mixture of her father and her mother's appearance. Sherlock can't help but look at them in disbelief and think "They're mine."

He has also come to see Molly's house as home, where his family lives. However, Baker Street still gets a run for its money every time there is a case to be worked on.

Without sounding cliché, and Sherlock would rather die than be /that/, they had truly found their happy ending, or rather, their happy beginning. If he has any say in it though, they will most definitely live happily ever after.