When she awoke the next day it was almost noon. Her beautifully styled hair was in a state of disarray and her makeup was smeared over her face. It was not her most attractive moment. She washed up and put her hair back in its usual place, a pony tail at the top of her head. Breakfast was light, some beans on toast and a warm cup of tea. Only then did she check her phone.

Saturday 9:30 am

I hope you are having a lie in. -SH

Saturday 10:22 am

Call me when you wake up. -SH

Her heart slammed against her chest. She picked out his name from her contacts with trembling fingers. Who could have thought a year ago that she'd be dating Sherlock Holmes. Was that what they were doing? No one would go through that much trouble for a single date. This didn't feel like dating. She'd done plenty of that in her life. This was more like... courting. Or something very close to it.

"Hello Molly," his baritone voice was a smooth as black velvet.

"Uh, hi," she got out.

"Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

"Of course. How could I not? That was amazing," she replied.

Sherlock was silent for a moment. She hung onto the phone like a life preserver.

"So what next?" he finally asked.

"I was hoping you were going to tell me," she laughed.

"I meant, what do you want to happen next," he said softly.

"A few more dates maybe? Not as grand as last night. Ordinary things - a trip to the park, go to the cinema," Molly chattered.

"Ordinary things? But you are far from ordinary Molly Hooper. Would a trip to the park excite you?" he asked.

"It might if you were there. It's something to share. I enjoy my walks and you could enjoy them with me."

"Then by all means, let's go to the park," Sherlock said.

"Now?" Molly squeaked.

"You seemed to really enjoy the last time I brought you coffee. I'll bring some again. I'll see you in an hour," he said and hung up.

Molly normally didn't wear much make up or pay attention to the clothes that she wore. Today was different. She wanted to look nice for him. Not as nice as last night, but she wasn't going to the morgue on her day off so she could spend a little time picking out her clothing and getting ready. When she left the house her hair was up in a bun and she'd curled little tendrils that hung at each side of her face. She wore leggings with some comfortable boots and a long tunic. On impulse she grabbed a scarf and wrapped it around her neck.

Saturday 11:33 am

I'm at the fountain. Where are you? -Molls

Saturday 11:48 am

If you're running late send a text. -Molls

Saturday 11:49 pm

Getting coffee, will arrive shortly. -SH

Of course he was late, Molly thought. That was one thing she might have to get used to. He was like a small child dragging their feet to school each morning. Unless someone had died in an unusual and interesting way, Sherlock was in no hurry.

"Long line," he shrugged, hanging her a coffee.

Molly glanced down at his freshly pressed shirt and dark wash jeans. His hair lay in perfect spirals around his head and neck. Two could play at deductions.

"I can tell you how long it took you to get ready this morning," she said, sipping at the perfect cup of coffee. He must have gone to the same place as last time.

"Really?" he asked with the lift on an eyebrow.

"42 minutes," Molly said.

Sherlock started and his casual facade disappeared as he uncrossed his arms.

"You were probably still in your jimjams when I called. You needed to leave yourself 10 minutes for travel and 10 minutes for getting coffee. Your hair took longer than usual to wash and dry because of the amount of product you put in it last night. In fact, you had to wash your hair twice to get it all out."

Sherlock was still speechless. His eyes traveled over her face the looked down at himself.

"That's... that's..." he said.

"Brill? Ta!" Molly smiled into her coffee cup.

Sherlock looked at her suspiciously.

"You called John," he finally said.

"Of course I called John. You weren't here and you didn't answer my text. He said you'd showered twice and would be late," Molly said, giggling.

"That was clever. And funny. I wish Anderson were here. Only that could complete my humiliation," he said.

Molly laughed out loud, head thrown back into the October sun. When she looked at Sherlock again he was also chuckling. He had his hands in his pockets and he looked content in that moment. How often did Sherlock Holmes allow himself to find humor in a single moment, to just let it happen instead of fighting it so hard. He seemed to be fighting his emotions all the time, like he didn't need them. Well he was as human as any man she'd dated.

They stood looking at one another. For a moment the sky seemed a little bluer and the day a little sunnier. Molly knew she would remember this day long after it had passed. There was something special about it. Sherlock must have thought so too. He'd stopped laughing and was studying her eyes, looking puzzled. Molly returned his look and gave a soft gasp just as Sherlock jerked his head back. There were deep emotions reflecting in those blue green irises and they mirrored the ones in hers.

She had known even before last night that she was in love with Sherlock Holmes. But in this moment, here at Regent Park, on an ordinary autumn day, they'd discovered they loved each other. It happened every day to couples across the globe. That didn't matter to Molly. What mattered was that it had happened to them. She didn't give Sherlock the chance to think about it too much. She simply took his arm and they walked down one of the many paths, past people dragging dogs and children. It was a peaceful day and Molly might worry that Sherlock was bored, but she didn't. He was with the woman he loved. Nothing felt more filling than that. She'd let him tell her in his own time.