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Four years.

Four years since his heart opened and he confessed it all to Molly Hooper. Four years since his relationship with her turned into something deeper. It was unreal how much his life changed because of his release of emotions and opening his heart. John even remarked on it a few times, saying he was glad Sherlock found someone, and how proud Mary would be.

At times, Sherlock found his heart aching when he thought of his friend, Mary Watson. Sometimes, he wished he could go back and change the events, save her life, but if he did, who was to say it would have led him to that memorable call or the revelations he encountered or even to this moment entirely.

He held his breath as he stared out into the Thames. She would be getting off work soon, and he was nervous and excited. Molly had been happier lately. She had been happier than ever the past few years. Since they confronted their feelings, they were open and honest with each other even more and even going so far as to confess their feelings once a day. It had taken time for Sherlock to come to grips with his emotions, but Molly had been patient.

He smiled as he recalled the argument Detective Donovan gave to Lestrade, saying he didn't really love Molly as they all thought. Lestrade, who didn't know Sherlock was listening, told Donovan that Sherlock did love Molly. People might not have thought it to be romantic, but he did love her. It could have been friendship or something deeper, but for Sherlock to even admit that he loved her was a huge step for him, and, in Lestrade's mind, that was enough.

Lestrade's views made Sherlock's thoughts of him rise in approval, and afterward, Sherlock never heard any form of ridicule from Donovan again, especially after he grabbed Molly before they left a crime scene and bent her backward to lay a dramatic kiss on her lips, one that left them both shaking and gasping for air.

Later, after he explained why, Molly only smiled and said she didn't mind the kiss, but not to do it again at a crime scene.

Pushing away from the railing on the railing at the edge of the river, he walked towards the cab waiting for him. On the way to his flat, he wondered where his life would be if his sister hadn't pushed him to admit his feelings.

He couldn't imagine not being in love with Molly, now, nor sharing a life with her. He couldn't imagine not waking up in the morning without her to talk to or text. He couldn't imagine sitting with her as the music played in either flat, while she read or he pondered a case. He couldn't imagine playing his violin and not looking over to see her watching him with such love in her eyes that it distracted him or inspired him to write another piece.

He just couldn't imagine his life without her.

He entered the flat with soft steps and took in the atmosphere around him. Peace with a touch of love filled the air. Mrs. Hudson and John worked overtime to ensure their friend had everything perfect for tonight.

When he explained his intentions, Mrs. Hudson smiled and shooed him out of the flat and called John. Sherlock only chuckled and hoped they wouldn't go too far in their endeavors. From appearances, they hadn't.

Now, as he changed into something fit for the occasion, he hoped and prayed that this moment would start something more permanent for himself and Molly.

~XXX~

She washed her hands and glanced around her workstation. Everything was in its place and settled for the weekend. Checking the time, she smiled. She would see him in just one hour. She could hardly wait. Tonight, was special for her and Sherlock.

Tonight, they celebrated their fourth anniversary.

Changing her clothes in the locker room, she pulled her ponytail down and studied her reflection. Her hair was down to her waist and, thanks to her straightener, she was able to ensure it was straight and perfect. The dress she chose, was simple, yet elegant. With yellow embroidery on the bodice and cap sleeves, a green summer dress clung to her perfect figure and was accentuated by the cream-colored calf-high boots and yellow sweater. The dress flared at the hips, giving her a princess look and when she twirled it flared out, delicately before swaying along her legs.

She was ready. She hoped.

Exiting the hospital, she glanced behind her and thought how far she had come in four years. When Mike retired or seemed to, the gentleman who replaced him tried to make Molly's life hell. Unfortunately, Sherlock discovered this and investigated it. He revealed the man was a loan shark and had forced Mike to retire so he could control the hospital. The board of directors was in his pocket and turned a blind eye to his wrongdoings. Sherlock uncovered a black-market scandal for drugs and organs and, with Molly's help, was able to bring him down on charges, and reinstate Mike.

Since then, Molly's life was easier and happier. Thanks to Sherlock in many ways.

She couldn't begin to think of what her life would have been like had Sherlock not entered it. Yes, she would probably have a home and family by now or possibly be drowning in work, but would she be happy?

She didn't consider it to be possible without him. It was a horrible thought to even consider.

She settled in the back seat of the cab with her thoughts running over the events while giving directions to the cab driver. Eurus was unique, she recalled. After the events, she asked Sherlock if it was possible to meet his sister. Sensing his uncertainty, she convinced him that he would be by her side, but she wanted to see the woman who pushed them together. When he finally acquiesced, she approached Eurus with understanding and sympathy. After several visits, she was able to break through to the Holmes sibling.

Now, Eurus was a dear sister to her, a semi-disturbed sister, but a sister nonetheless.

As she exited the cab, she paused on the sidewalk as she listened to the violin play in the flat above, one glance up found him watching her from the window with his instrument in his hand. She smiled as she entered 221 and found rose petals decorating the stairs. Mrs. Hudson's doing no doubt, she thought.

She followed the trail and paused at the half-closed door. Pushing it open, she gasped with her hands covering her mouth. Petals decorated the floor with candles spread throughout the room on every flat surface. Tulips rested beside the candles and even on the center table in the dining area. She fingered a simple red-yellow tipped tulip beside the sofa and listened as Sherlock played a simple melody meant for only her.

As the final note dragged in the silence, he turned and faced her with a smile on his face. Lowering his violin to the table, he approached her. "Happy anniversary, my darling," he whispered, pulling her close to brush his lips over hers.

She hummed and returned the kiss. "Happy anniversary," she returned, contently.

He brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek and sighed. "Would you care for dinner first or your present?"

She smiled, raising her hands to caress his face before sliding them into his hair. "You're my present, aren't you?"

He chuckled, deeply, and pulled her closer. "I could be, but I was hoping to give you something special."

"You already have, Sherlock," she confessed, searching his eyes. "You gave me your love. That's enough to last an entire lifetime."

He kissed her forehead, tenderly, and breathed in the flowery scent that always reminded him of her. He never understood what combination of flowers was used to create a scent that was unique for Molly, but he was grateful it was hers and hers alone. "Still," he began, after a moment. "I would like to know."

She sighed. "Would it affect my dinner?" She raised her head to catch his eyes and smiled, playfully.

"It might."

Stroking his head, she nodded. "Well, I suppose the presents can come first."

"I knew you would say that, darling," he uttered, deeply.

She shivered at the deep tone and pressed close to him as he led her to the sofa. She reached for her bag, and pulled out a simply wrapped box, and passed it to him as he settled beside her with a box of his own.

He smiled, softly, causing her to blush at the emotion in his eyes. She would never get used to that level of emotion, and she didn't want to. It was so Sherlock when he looked at her like that, and she didn't want it to change.

He cradled the box in his hands and watched as she fidgeted on the couch. Still shy and nervous about some things, he thought, hoping she would never change. He loved her nervous nature and her strength. She was strong in so many ways and grew stronger with each passing day. He noticed it during the early years of their relationship before the call. After they began their relationship, he realized how much it was because of her love for him that she strengthened. Love was strength, as she said. It was not a weakness as he foolishly thought for years. He should know for he felt it with her. She made him stronger.

Opening the box in his lap, he held his breath as he lifted the lid and tears burned his eyes. Catching her brown eyes, he saw the tenderness and hope within them. Lifting the small wooden box, with his initials carved on the top, he opened the lid.

She looked into a heart so sad. And saw what no one ever had. Beneath the snow, she saw the spring. She finds good in everything.

The melody continued to play as the lyrics brought the memory of that fateful day forefront in his mind. When he thought of Molly finding the love within him and bringing it out to complete peace. As the song faded, he lifted his eyes to hers and he slowly wiped the tears from her cheeks with his right hand. "It's perfect, Molly."

"When I played it for you, you told me that it fit what you felt that day. So, I had a friend help me with the details."

Leaning forward, he kissed her tenderly. "It does."

She caressed his face, forever ingraining the moment he heard the song in her memory. His rapt expression and tender love were something she never wanted to forget, and somehow, she knew she never would.

Handing her his present, he placed the treasured music box on the coffee table beside the vase of tulips. She opened the present, and frowned as only a piece of paper came into view. Tilting her head, she lifted it out and bit her bottom lip.

John's old room.

"Sherlock?"

He stood and held out his hand. "Come with me."

Standing, he escorted her out of the flat up the stairs and into John's old room. Opening the door, she bit back a cry when she understood what he was doing.

Instead of a bedroom, it was an open space with small table and a single tulip in a vase. Music began to play, and she recognized the song as the one in the music box. She covered her mouth, wanting to capture this moment. Who knew Sherlock would be so romantic? She lowered her hands and watched as he came closer with the tulip in his hand.

Holding it in his hand, he swallowed, hoping he would continue having the nerve to finish this. "Tulips stand for perfect and deep love," he began. "Which is why they decorate the flat downstairs."

Molly clasped her hands tightly together in front of her, wanting to say something, but knew he needed to finish.

"I love you, Molly Hooper, deeply and perfectly. You are the reason I wake up and the reason I push on through the day. I'll always regret hurting you on the call, but I'll never regret the way it turned out. Because of it, I know what perfect love is. It's up and down, anger and joy, laughter and tears. It's everything I tried to ignore, but I can't because it's also everything I want." He held the flower to her with semi-shaking hands, waiting for her to respond.

Molly's eyes fixated on the red tulip in her hands and tears threatened once more to breakthrough. Hanging on a simple ribbon, was a delicate white gold ring in the shape of a flower, an engagement ring. She panted, biting her lip before raising her eyes to his.

"Say it, Molly," he whispered, nearly choking. "Say it like you mean it."

She knew what he was asking and she knew her answer. He didn't have to say the words, not out loud. He only had to imply and she knew what he meant. The flower with the ring was enough for her. She didn't need anything else for he had already given her so much when he gave her his love.

Closing the distance, she untied the ribbon and held up the ring. "Of course, I'll marry you, Sherlock Holmes."

He smiled, brightly, his face crinkling in a loving way, and slid the ring on her finger. He lifted her in his arms and held her tight. She laughed through her tears and returned the embrace with all her might.

As his lips found hers, the music repeated and, in the stillness, they both realized how much it rang true for them.

One month later, that simple melody became their wedding song and though the audience never understood why it was so special to the couple, to Sherlock and Molly, it was the perfect description.

For Molly Hooper had seen the good in Sherlock and found the love within him.

Give her thorns and she'll find the roses. Give her sand and she'll find the sea. Give her rain and she'll find the rainbow.

Just see the love Molly Hooper found in Sherlock Holmes.

Please be kind!

I hope you enjoyed this small story! This one really holds a special place in my heart. Of course, I say that with almost every story, but this one really does mean something special to me.

Quick question: Would you all like to read a story about the mystery I involved with Molly's boss? I thought about writing it, so what do you guys think?

Until Next Time...