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For the first time in months, she awoke with a smile. She didn't have to explain it or try to reason it, because she knew the moment her eyes focused on why she was happy. She was with him. She found her way back. Unfortunately, the first few moments of bliss were interrupted when dark thoughts invaded. She slowly rose in the bed, wrapping the sheet delicately around her, and searched the familiar room. Her eyes soaked in every piece of furniture, every statue, and painting, and stopped at the picture beside the bed.
She lifted it and smiled with tears burning her eyes. Gazing at the picture, she knew this was a treasure to the man, apparently, in the other room. Settled in a silver frame was an image of her and Sherlock. It had been one of the few times he asked her to accompany him undercover. She was dressed in a simple yellowish dress with her hair braided to one side. The color tone matched her skin, and the light makeup made her appear like a fairy. Sherlock was dressed in a yellow button-down shirt, a rarity for him, for he hated bright colors on him, preferring instead to wear more sedate colors as to not draw attention to himself. The colors and clothing were not what made this picture so special. It was the smiles on their faces, which made them look very young and very much in love. His arms were around her, holding her close and he was gazing at her face, as she was looking in the direction of the camera. Her own arms around Sherlock, keeping him in place. The expression on his face warmed her, and she recalled the older woman who wanted to take a picture of the "young couple so much in love."
"I tracked her down and asked for a copy," Sherlock replied from the doorway.
Molly lowered the picture to the table and traced the silver frame. "This was just before I discovered I was pregnant," she whispered, as he knelt in front of her.
"When you were taken," he began, hoarsely. His voice was nearly clogged with emotion. "I thought I lost my heart. I searched for you for months, fearing you were killed." He licked his lips, grasping her hands. "But somehow I knew that you were still alive. I couldn't explain it. It wasn't logical, but I knew you were alive. In pain, but alive."
She pulled one of her hands-free and traced his face with loving fingers. "The only pain I felt was being away from you. I tried not to let it show, because it would have been a weapon for him." She ran her thumb over his left eyebrow and smiled, tenderly. "My every thought was returning to you, ensuring our child would be born in safety and we would finally have the happiness we always wanted."
"My only happiness is with you, Molly," he stated, fervently. His sharp gaze softened with a teasing glow. "Just don't tell John," he added with a chuckle.
She giggled, leaning forward to press her forehead on his. "Your secret is safe with me."
He sighed, rubbing her legs, finally resting his hands on her thighs. "I missed you, Molly."
"I missed you, Sherlock."
His head tilted up a fraction and caught her lips with hunger and desperation that caused her to gasp and open her mouth wider. Her arms wrapped around his neck, as their mouths met in a fiery action that left them shaking and breathless. They separated slowly, each taking a lip and sucking gently until they were apart. It was then Molly realized she was laying on the bed and he was hovering over her with the sheet resting at her waist.
She blushed, even though he had seen her in the buff countless times. His hands caressed her sides and lightly brushed her breasts, as his eyes stared down into hers.
"Marry me, Molly."
Her eyes widened. "You already know my answer. Why?"
His hand rested on their growing child and he smiled. "Because before Michael finds you again, which I have no doubt he will try, I want my ring on your finger. Not an engagement ring, but a wedding ring, for it is more powerful than any ring in the world."
The conviction of his statement brought tears to her eyes and she wept at the beauty of the moment and the words. She rocked in his arms, content that she was loved and safe. "When?"
He rubbed his hands over her bare back and kissed her shoulder. "I contacted Mycroft and he will have everything ready in two hours."
Molly stiffened. "You called your brother?" she asked, pulling back, fear shining in her eyes. "Michael has people watching."
He smiled, caressing her cheek. "I know."
"He'll find me with ease now," she rushed, panicking.
He placed a finger over her mouth and puckered his lips in a hush form. "I thought of that, which is why Mycroft is going to be the decoy."
She tilted her head; questions filled her eyes. "Decoy?"
He nodded. "He is going to plan an elaborate wedding or as elaborate as one can plan in two hours, and if Michael shows up, he will find nothing there but guests or agents."
"He'll know it's a trap, Sherlock."
"I know, but he will send someone to the church to check." He smiled, stroking her face. "Meanwhile, Mrs. Hudson has agreed, most ardently, to marry us."
"Mrs. Hudson?"
He winked. "She received a bit of paper a few months back declaring she was able to marry anyone, legally."
"She wanted to marry us," Molly remarked, stunned, but happiness glowed in her face.
"It was going to be her gift to us, and it still is."
"Oh, Sherlock," she cried, wrapping her arms around him, and jumped when their child moved as if he was dancing inside her. "I think someone is happy about the wedding."
He laughed, kissing her temple before sliding out of bed. "Now, get dressed, Dr. Hooper, we have a wedding to attend."
"But, Sherlock, I don't have anything fit for a wedding."
He winked again, and exited for a few minutes before returning and held out a beautiful ivory gown with lace trim and capped sleeves. The neck was a low-cut V, and the bodice flared from the breasts down. It only took her a second to realize it was big enough for her pregnant state.
"How?"
"Come now, Molly, did you really think I would forget a woman's wedding gown?"
"Oh, you wonderful man," she exclaimed, climbing out of bed and wrapped the sheet around her before rushing towards him.
He wrapped her close, loving the feel of her in his arms. Oh, how he missed this in the months she was away. She tightened her hold and sensed his uneasiness. "Isn't it bad form to see the bride before the wedding?" she asked to ease the tension.
He brushed his lips over her cheek and sighed. "I'll risk it if it means you will never be from my sight again."
She hummed, knowing the pain of separation. "I should get dressed."
He pulled back and searched her eyes. "You have two hours. I'll be in the front room," he instructed before kissing her passionately.
Molly stood in silence as the door of the bedroom closed and she was left alone with only the simple wedding gown. Placing her hand on her stomach, she smiled. "Shall we get married, little one?"
Her child answered with a leap and a kick to which Molly laughed.
~XXX~
"Getting married, are they?" Michael whispered, lowering his hands to the desk. His cold glare focused on the gentlemen who brought the news. "I'm sure the church wedding is a poor attempt at a diversion." He circled the desk and narrowed his eyes. "What about his home?"
"It's too well guarded."
Michael raised his chin. "When have guards ever stopped me?"
"None, but, sir, this is dangerous. Sherlock is not going to risk bringing her out into the open."
"Then we'll just have to find a way in, won't we?" Michael grabbed his mobile and dialed a quick number. "Sally, love, I heard through the grapevine that Sherlock is getting married," he paused, listening closely. "I see, well, would you care for a date?"
He smiled. "Perfect, I'll see you soon, love," he ended, tossing the mobile on the desk. "It's good to have a backup."
"Won't you be recognized, sir?"
"All the more reason to crash a wedding. The wedding is in two hours, I better pretty up," he remarked, chuckling. "I have a bride to steal."
~XXX~
Sherlock eased her through the alley and nodded to Mrs. Hudson, who carried only a few books in her arms. His arm wrapped around Molly, holding her close just as a car pulled in front of them with John, in disguise, sitting at the wheel.
"Molly, you'll need to hunker down for a bit, at least until we clear the street," John remarked, glancing in the mirror.
Molly slid as far as she could, with Sherlock's help, and smiled when he joined her. The overcoat disguised her gown and her hair, which, thankfully, was straight and perfect. Sherlock wore his classic button-down shirt and slacks, nothing too fancy, but still looked sexy.
"I never imagined my wedding day would be like this," she whispered, holding Sherlock's hand tightly.
"I'm sorry," he returned, lowly.
She smiled, touching his mouth with a brush of her free hand. "I am marrying the great Sherlock Holmes and the father of my child; I would expect nothing less. At least, I will have the pleasure of wearing your ring and you wearing mine."
He kissed her fingers and sighed when John gave the all-clear. "Thank you, John, for coming on short notice."
John shrugged. "Well, it's the least I can do, besides, fat chance I was going to miss this."
Sherlock smirked and shook his head, pulling Molly close to his side. "He's been pestering me about finding the right girl."
"Bollocks, I knew it was Molly," John injected, glancing in the mirror. "I just hoped that you would find her again, which I'm glad you have."
Molly blushed, shifting her eyes to Sherlock's. She never did imagine this the way her wedding would be, but as she told Sherlock, she was marrying Sherlock Holmes, and for reasons she didn't want to fathom, it seemed perfect. Though the crouch in the back was not very comfortable, and she hoped they would clear the street soon. She winced when John turned unexpectedly, and Sherlock rubbed her back as far as he could reach.
"We are almost there, Molly, hang on," he whispered.
She nodded, and minutes later John gave the all-clear. She held Sherlock's hand as they traveled out of London towards the outskirts. Molly held her breath as the trip lasted a little over an hour and when a shadowy castle-like home came into view she turned her head, capturing his eyes. With a nod from him, she knew exactly where they were.
This was Sherlock's old home. The place Eurus burned when they were children. It was where Sherlock realized his feelings for her were not just a friendship type of love, but something deeper and more powerful.
As John pulled in front of the home, a small arch stood out front, covered in small flowers. Molly gasped, covering her mouth with her left hand. Lestrade waited beside the arch with Mycroft and no one else. As Sherlock helped her out of the car, she smiled at both men and bowed her head to them. Sherlock winked and felt John grasping his arm, pulling him away towards the small altar.
Mrs. Hudson kissed Molly on the cheek and headed towards the front. Mycroft approached while clearing his throat. "The church has been covered and so has Sherlock's flat," he began, holding her eyes. "Lestrade was kind enough to ensure that no one knew of the actual location of the wedding, so for the moment, my dear, you are safe."
Molly smiled, touching his hand. "Thank you, Mycroft, and you as well, Greg."
Lestrade nodded and headed towards the others. Molly sighed. "I suppose we should head to the altar," she remarked, slipping off the overcoat and draped it over the top of the car.
Mycroft extended his left arm. "Might I have the pleasure of escorting the bride to the groom?"
She laughed and looped her arm through his, taking the first step towards her destiny.
Sherlock shifted nervously on his feet. He always thought of romantic entanglements as a hindrance and something that he would never succumb to, but standing at the makeshift altar of his ruined childhood home, he wanted to laugh. The music played and slowly he turned. All those past thoughts disappeared as he saw the woman who changed it all. The woman he would gladly sacrifice everything. His breath caught as he watched her take steady steps towards him on the arm of his brother. The dress, which he picked out, was perfection. She appeared to him like an angel. An angel that she was, always saving him in times of hardship and drug-induced mania. She saved his life countless times, and here she was doing it again, by becoming his wife.
Something he certainly never thought he would do.
As her hand slipped into his hand, time seemed to stand still as their gazes locked, sharing a love so powerful that they couldn't begin to fathom ever being separated again.
Mrs. Hudson's words surrounded them as she read a gentle passage about love and how it was the greatest emotion and bind between two people ever created. As the vows were said, Sherlock felt his heart constrict. Just one more simple thing.
Taking the ring from John, he slid it carefully on Molly's finger. Molly smiled at the perfect fit and grasped the other ring from John's hand and returned the gesture.
As their hands clasped together, their eyes locked as Mrs. Hudson proclaimed them husband and wife in front of their family.
Sherlock smiled, softly, and bent to kiss his new wife, loving the accepted response from her lips. He held her close and kissed her head as John and Lestrade approached with glad tidings for them both.
Sherlock's gaze found his brother, talking on the phone. He motioned to Molly and briefly left her.
"What is it?"
Mycroft lowered the phone and sighed. "The church exploded," Mycroft remarked. "I lost several agents."
"Michael?"
"He sent one of his men in with the device. They were able to detain him, but someone was watching and killed him." Mycroft glanced towards the wedding party, the pain growing in his eyes.
"Mycroft."
"I had a suspicion and told Lestrade to tell certain people of a second location of the wedding."
"Yes, you said it was to be at the flat. I remember," Sherlock remarked, impatiently.
"He told only one person, and they just found her body in the alley behind your flat."
Sherlock stiffened. "Donovan."
Mycroft nodded. "Donovan."
~XXX~
Michael contained his anger as he entered the estate and walked calmly towards the secret room, known only to him. Once inside, he flipped the switch and glared at the wall of images. Approaching them, his green eyes narrowed in disdain.
"You may have won this battle, Sherlock," he began, touching one of the pictures gently. "But I will win the war. I will get Molly back, and your child will be mine, as will your wife."
~XXX~
Molly leaned against the chest behind her and caressed the arms that wrapped around her. "I'm so sorry for Lestrade."
"Donovan made her own choice. It's not Lestrade's fault."
"No, but she was his partner at times. He did care for her."
Sherlock dipped his head, kissing the back of hers. "They found no fingerprints. No evidence. Even the CCTV cameras were disabled."
"Michael," she whispered, shivering. "He was close."
"I won't let him get to you, Molly."
She smiled, sadly. "I know," she responded, though in her heart she knew it was only a matter of time before Michael found them.
Sherlock gazed across the landscape of the old home, newly restored behind the burned home of his youth. This was where he and Molly would spend a few days before he would take her somewhere safer. John, Rosie, and Mrs. Hudson were to escape to the country for the time, settling with Sherlock's parents until everything was done. Mycroft was protected as was Lestrade. The only one he was concerned for was his wife.
Their baby moved underneath his hands and he smiled, ever faintly. He had to ensure Molly was safe and when the time came to deliver their child, he would be there and Michael would be far away.
Far away from his family. Preferably six feet in the ground.
Please be kind!
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! More to come! (Also, if you watched an interview with Benedict, you may recognize a line I used for this! Kudos if you caught it!)
Until Next Time...