As they drove towards Central London the traffic grew thick with congestion. They were approaching the House of Parliament and Molly thought she knew where they were headed. Harris parked in a lot on the South Bank of the River Thames. He ran back to open the door and she stepped gingerly out.

"You can leave your things here for now. I'm not going anywhere," he assured her. "You're a stunner tonight. I reckon he'll get more than he bargained for," Harris said with a laugh.

"I'm not even wearing my dress!" Molly protested.

"You don't have to. You're already glowing. Best of luck, Miss Hooper."

Molly knew she was grinning. She couldn't help it. It had been a wonderful day and it was only going to get better. Everything seemed a bit of a dream and she kept waiting to wake up.

She wandered around the crowded pier, feeling a little lost. And then there was a smooth baritone voice behind her.

"Well played, Molly Hooper," he said.

Molly went to turn around and gentle fingers guided her shoulders back to where they were.

"Have you ever been on the London Eye?" he asked softly in her ear.

"No," she whispered.

"Scared of heights?" he teased. His fingers were brushing her bare neck, making her shiver with delight. She didn't say anything. All she could do was bite her lip and wait to see what he'd say next.

"I've never been either," he said.

"That isn't really a surprise," she laughed. "Or maybe you're bluffing."

"So are you," he returned.

Molly thought about that, or tried to, his breath was at her neck instead of his fingers. He was only breathing but each exhale moved the tendrils that had escape from her updo.

"So you have ridden before?" she asked.

"Let's go up together. That way we know for sure that we both have," he said.

Finally she turned to face him. His eyes looked gently down on her. His hand was fiddling with his hair – one of his tells. He was nervous. Good. So was she.

She took in his slim jeans hugging that wiry frame and the button down purple shirt that clung to his shoulders. He looked amazing. They stepped into a carriage and it swayed and rocked as they moved to sit.

The carriages moved slowly as passengers were let off and boarded. Each turn brought them higher into the air. When the Ferris wheel finally began to move they were already almost to the top. They hung there, chasing the setting sun as it sank below the horizon. The waters bellow reflected the blue light from the Eye and all the colors of the brilliantly lit sky. A cold wind was blowing, penatrating the warmth of her jumper.

"This is beautiful," she said. "London looks so small from up here."

"Does it make you feel bigger?" he asked.

Molly pushed his arm with her hand. "You have been on before!"

Sherlock merely shrugged then wrapped one arm around her shoulder. They hung silently suspended in the cooling air.

"When I was at Uni," Sherlock began softly. "I was engaged to a girl. I know you may find that difficult to believe. All the same it's true."

"What happened?" Molly asked.

"I underestimated her. I took her at face value when I should have seen the signs of betrayal. I didn't want to see her for who she was, so I didn't. When I finally confronted her about her infidelity, she laughed. She was only keen for the wealth. Or more specifically my parent's wealth. After that it wasn't worth the effort. For a long time the Work was all I needed to feel satisfied."

"And then what happened?" she asked quietly.

"Then I met you. You were there for me Molly. You held my life in your hands. It changed everything."

Molly was silent for a moment then she cleared her throat.

"Tom didn't break up with me. I left him. I decided I was deserved more than a relationship that was just comfortable and secure. I couldn't marry someone I wasn't in love with," she finished timidly.

Molly glanced at him from the corner of one eye, worried that she'd said too much. Sherlock was looking out towards the water and Molly looked at her feet the rest of the ride down. Sherlock ushered her towards the waiting cab and something inside her broke a little. He was going to change his mind. She'd spoken honestly and he had fallen back inside his shell.

"Take her home, Harris," he said and her worst fears were realized.

"I'll see you tonight," he whispered, and drew her close to him. She closed her eyes as his lips touched hers. The contact was ever so brief, but it left her head spinning.

It didn't stop even as Harris let her out at her flat.

"I'll pick you up at nine," he said, tipping his cap to her. "It's been a pleasure."

She held onto the railing tightly as she made her way up to the third floor. Soon she was wearing her ivory ball gown with is perfectly blue roses. She sprayed on a dash of the perfume Lestrade had given her. She spun around the tiny room in front of her floor mirror, trying to get a view of the back. Where could she possibly be going in this dress?