I love you
I do, I do, I do, I do, I do
I can't conceal it, don't you see, can't you feel it?
Don't you too?
I do, I do, I do, I do, I do
- Abba, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do
"That's the last one," Molly declares, stripping off her nitrile gloves with far more grace and efficiency than when she'd donned them. (One day, she vows, one day she'll manage it without looking like a total plonker. Today, unfortunately, is not that day.) She carefully places the last of the buccal swabs into the container provided by the lab and hands it off to the tech that's been assigned to help her. The results will be flown (!) via helicopter (!) to the testing lab and they'll have results by the morning at the latest, or so Sherlock's brother has apparently assured him.
She smiles a soft, private smile at the thought of how her relationship with Sherlock has changed, literally overnight. The frown gradually devolves into an anxious frown; what if this is just some version of a holiday romance for him? Something not to take back to London? Yes, he'd said he wanted more but what if, what if…
"Breathe, Molly," a voice rumbles softly in her ear, and she looks up to see Sherlock standing very close behind her; when had he even moved? "I told you I'm willing to try," he murmurs, "do please attempt to believe me if you can."
She offers him a tremulous smile and tries to shrug off her aberrant little panic attack but he's observing her so closely she knows she can't hide anything from him.
Nor, unfortunately, from anyone else still in the room, which turns out to just be Mary and John. David had already headed down to the cafeteria after a preliminary blood typing test officially eliminated him from the running, and Danny and Rosie had gone with him to keep him company - and commiserate with his obvious disappointment at that outcome.
Molly scolds herself for getting so caught up in her own drama that she'd actually forgotten the point of this little exercise in cheek-swabbing and blood-drawing. "Sorry!" she says. "Just got a little caught up in my thoughts." She gives an unconvincing laugh. "You know how it is!"
John shoots Sherlock a hard look and Mary comes over to hug her. "You'll be fine, love, I promise," she whispers, and Molly hugs her back gratefully. "Just don't let this one call all the shots and you'll be more than fine!" She gives Sherlock a stern look. "Consider this your 'treat her right or we'll come after you' talk, understood?"
Sherlock rolls his eyes and gently but firmly pulls Molly out of Mary's arms and into his own. "No need for threats, Rosamund Mary Morstan," he says loftily. "I've already stated my intentions quite clearly, right before Molly and I had se-"
"Right, that's enough!" John says loudly, while Mary merely grins. He jabs a finger in Sherlock's direction. "What Mary said, eh? Remember, I'm a doctor, I can name every bone in your body before breaking them!"
Molly's regained her emotional equilibrium, partially due to the comforting feel of Sherlock's arm encircling her shoulders as well as his admonition to 'breathe'. "I'll be fine," she assures the other two, then gives Sherlock a sidelong grin. "Remember what I do for a living; if he gives me any grief I won't have any trouble hiding the body!"
Their shared laughter fills the air and they leave the room, ready to join David and the others and make their way back to the hotel.
Wedding preparations still need to be finished, after all, no matter what else might be going on!
oOo
David's fairly quiet on the ride back to the hotel, but not so much that he makes the others uncomfortable. After all, Rosie'd asked him to be a part of her life no matter what the truth of her actual parentage, and there's Meena waiting for them when they arrive. Even though a tiny part of him wistfully lingers on the might-have-beens, the larger part of him is just happy to have found a woman who's as interested in him as he is in her.
Meena continues to show that interest at the family dinner that night, and he's more than happy to just enjoy the moment.
The next day he and the two men still in contention for fatherhood are shooed off, along with Danny, to prepare for the wedding (read: stay out of the womens' way). This involves a great deal of smoking, friendly joshing, and several admonitions from Danny's father and John for Sherlock to keep any deductions he might have at the wedding to himself.
"Please," he scoffs, rolling his eyes as he sips his whisky and takes a long, slow puff of his cigar, "I've already deduced everything worth knowing about the guests and the wedding party, including Rosie's pregnancy."
His self-satisfied smirk fades and vanishes, and a puzzled line appears between his eyes at the dead silence and wide-eyed stares that greet this comment. "I mean, it's obvious, isn't it obvious? Did you really not know?" His gaze settles on Danny. "Surely you knew! Her nausea at the clinic, her slight faintness when our blood was drawn, her general lack of appetite and obvious exhaustion?"
Relieved laughter fills the room, and John slaps Sherlock on the shoulder. "That's called a hangover, mate. Sometimes they last for a couple of days, as I'm sure most of us have learned to our regret!" He glances at Danny as if for support.
The groom-to-be is quick to offer it. "Oh yeah, we all overdid it a bit," he agrees with a grin. "But she'll be all right by this evening." His eyes take on a faraway glow. "I can't wait to see her in her wedding gown, up on the headland with the sun setting behind her and all our friends and family gathered round to watch while we exchange our vows."
The good-natured joshing he receives for his sentimental dreaminess continues without mercy for most of the afternoon, until they all disperse to prepare for the imminent ceremony.
oOo
Rosie makes a face at the wine she's just sipped from. "Ugh, I can't believe I chose this one," she complains, setting it down on the dresser. "What was I thinking?"
Gwen sniffs the discarded drink, then sips from the other side of the glass. "Tastes fine to me," she says with a shrug. Stacey nods her agreement.
Mary laughs. "When I was pregnant with you," she says, stroking Rosie's golden hair, "anything with alcohol tasted horrible. Didn't make me sick to be around, not like the smell of cooking hamburger - oh, I couldn't eat hamburgers for a year after you were born, remember, Meena?"
Meena laughs and nods, sipping from her own glass of wine. "Oh yeah, what a temper that put you into! You practically lived on hamburgers before that!" The sound of the door opening catches their attention; Molly walks in, carefully carrying the dress with her and hanging it on the hook on the back of the door. "Here it is!" she says proudly. "Fixed that zipper good as new!"
It had torn when Mary tried to zip up the dress. Cursing the dressmaker for cinching the waist in too tightly at the last fitting, Mary had ordered her daughter back out of the dress and thrust it into Molly's arms. "You're the best with a needle and thread, Molly, can you make it right?"
As always, Molly had come through. She points out the small tuck in the waist she'd had to unstitch - "I told that woman not to make it so tight!" Mary grouses - and proudly shows off the newly repaired zipper. Rosie and her bridesmaids crowd around her, oohing and ahhing, praising her for fixing the problem so quickly, and sharing relieved smiles with the other women.
This time Gwen and Stacey insist on taking Rosie into the adjoining room, so they can help her finish putting on the gown and veil. "Gotta have a dramatic reveal for Mum!" Gwen carols as she and Stacey shover her good-naturedly ahead of them, having carefully taken the dress down from the hook. "See you in ten minutes!"
Mary nods her agreement, and the older women settle down to finish their wine and discuss the evening's schedule. They're laughing and enjoying one another's company when the door opens again, and Rosie reenters with Gwen and Stacey on either side of her. She looks radiant in her simple white gown, holding a bouquet of mixed wildflowers in front of her and the veil rippling behind her as she does an impromptu spin. "How do I look?"
Mary approaches her with tears in her eyes. "Like the little girl I raised has grown into a beautiful, confident woman," she says.
Rosie's eyes are a bit damp as she hugs her mother, but the laughter quickly returns when Janine quips, "And like Wedding Day Barbie, with that gorgeous hair an' white dress!"
Sooner than seems reasonable they're making their way up to the headland, where Ajay and the local carpenter they've hired have erected an arch. It's covered in white satin and white carnations, and Father Todros is waiting for them when they arrive. Mary confers with him while the guests settle into their seats and Rosie paces nervously back and forth while Gwen and Stacey do their best to help settle her nerves.
They're waiting with Molly and Janine around the bend; the winding path leading up to the headland breaks into two directions here, and the men have been instructed to stay on the left side. Every footstep makes Rosie start and swear, and finally Molly takes her hands and orders her to sit on the nearest flat rock, draping her cheery yellow cardigan over the stone and sitting next to her.
"But your dress!" Rosie protests.
Molly hugs her. "Hush, it's fine. You're the one everyone will be looking at, not me! If there are any marks I can't brush away then I'll just wrap my cardigan round my waist and be done with it." She presses a soft kiss to Rosie's temple, and feels the younger woman relax just a tiny bit.
A few minutes later Mary joins them, a radiant smile on her lips. "They're ready, love. Are you?"
Rosie stands up, but not before giving Molly a grateful hug. "More than ready," she assures her mother, but her hand rubs at her stomach before she takes the bouquet Gwen's been holding for her. "Not sure about my butterflies, though!"
They walk up the leftward path, Molly and Janine slipping away to their seats. As arranged, John, Sherlock and David are all waiting to escort the bride to her groom - but it's Mary whose arm she takes.
The music, a simple instrumental recording of Rosie and Danny's favorite song, 'Unchained Melody' by The Righteous Brothers, starts playing. Gwen and Stacey give her a quick thumb's up, then start their measured pacing down the makeshift aisle. Mary and Rosie follow, and then the three men who've become so important to her. One of them is her dad - either Sherlock or John - and Rosie's positive that whichever one it turns out to be, she's the luckiest daughter in the world.
Then she sees Danny, smiling so wide his cheeks must be aching, and all thoughts of her potential fathers fly right out of her head. She barely notices as her mother squeezes her shoulders and kisses her cheek before taking her seat in the front row between Molly and Janine.
The ceremony is short and simple - not at all a traditional Greek wedding as Father Todros laughingly points out - and, in Rosie's mine, absolutely perfect. She and Danny exchange their vows, the rings are placed on each other's fingers, and suddenly the joyous sounds of Katrina and the Waves' 'Walking On Sunshine' burst from the CD player as she and Danny lead a cheering, happy crowd back down to the hotel.
(At the reception, John takes her aside and asks where she got her taste in music from; when Rosie grins and points at Mary, he smiles and shakes his head. "I should've known. I do remember her having an ear for the oldies!")
oOo
While Rosie and Danny are dancing their first dance together ('Thinking Out Loud' by Ed Sheeran), he holds her close and tells her he loves her. "Love you too, idiot, or I wouldn't have married you!" Rosie says with a laugh.
"Are you sure you're not just marrying me because of the baby?" Before Rosie can respond to that astonishing question, Danny laughs and kisses her. "Just kidding! It was something Sherlock said while we were all staying out of your mum's way, that you were a bit green around the gills at the lab earlier today which of course meant you were pregnant."
"My dress was too tight," Rosie says, rather faintly, not joining in the laugh as Danny clearly expects her to do. She lifts troubled eyes to meet his as they continue to automatically sway to the music. "Aunt Molly had to let it out a bit. And the wine, it tasted funny, and Mum said she couldn't drink wine when she was pregnant with me and oh, God! Danny! I drank so much the other night!" She raises a hand to her mouth, coming to an abrupt stop smack in the middle of the dance floor. "What if it's true?"
Danny, bless him, doesn't skip a beat. "Then we'll deal with it, just like your mum dealt with it when she found out she was pregnant. Only you won't be alone, cause you'll have me, Til death, remember?" And he raises her beringed finger to his lips and places a tender kiss on its tip. "We'll stop at the chemists tomorrow and get a pregnancy test and find out for sure. For tonight, though, can we just be the two of us?" He grins and takes her back into his arms, once again moving to the music. "Especially if that's all going to change in eight or nine months!"
She nods and manages a smile, and puts the idea out of her mind. She's never been one to brood, and Danny's sensible attitude and reassuring words certainly help.
She sees her mother watching them, somewhat anxiously, and gives her a nod and a smile, letting her know that everything's okay. And it is; with Danny by her side - til death! - she can face anything.
From across the room, Molly and Sherlock watch them dancing. Hearing Molly's wistful sigh, Sherlock glances down at her. "Wishing it was you in bridal white?"
She shakes her head firmly. "No, actually. Just wishing I could take off these shoes. I should have worn flats, but these make my legs look longer and match my dress so well I couldn't bear not to wear them!" She giggles, a delightful sound to his ears. "What's that old saying about vanity?"
He shrugs. "No idea. But if your feet are bothering you…" With a wicked grin he swoops her into his arms, which causes the giggles to increase as she wraps her arms round his neck. "We've done our part," he whispers in her ear. "I'm happy to let John and David dance with Rosie once young Lestrade lets her out of his hold. If you don't mind, I'd much rather take up where we left off the other night, wouldn't you?"
Still giggling, blushing like a - well, like a bride! - Molly nods and they slip away from the festivities with no one the wiser.
Except, of course, Janine and Mary, who make kissy faces at her over Sherlock's shoulder and wiggle their fingers in good-bye as they leave the room.
A few minutes after that, John somewhat bashfully asks Mary to dance; Janine is pulled onto the dancefloor by Lestrade Senior, and Meena and David join them to the strains of Elvis Presley's 'I Can't Help Falling In Love With You.'