A/N: Rated K+ and fluffy enough to be one of my Flufftober fics instead!
"Didn't we already have this conversation?"
Molly shook her head and gave Sherlock's curls a bit of a ruffle. From her perch on the arm of his chair, she was a head taller than him, giving him an excellent view of her dimples. "Nope, sorry, love, that conversation never happened." With an impish grin, she added, "Not outside that oversized brain of yours, anyway. By the way, what was my answer?"
"You said yes, obviously," Sherlock replied, brow wrinkled. He was absolutely positive he'd asked Molly...then he saw the corners of her lips twitching in a very suspicious manner, and pulled her quickly down onto his lap. She gave a shriek of laughter but made no other protests as glowered down at her. "You, Molly Hooper, are a liar."
"A big fat liar," she corrected him with a cheeky grin. "My pants are on fire, my nose is growing…"
She let out another shriek of laughter as he began tickling her. "A tiny little liar with a perfect nose, unheated hosiery, and a despicable sense of humor," he corrected her, punctuating every third or fourth word with a kiss to whatever part of her face was available between her twitches and squirms. "I did ask you to marry me. Out loud. And you said yes."
He let off tickling her as, red-faced and with eyes streaming with tears, Molly gasped out, "Yes, you got me. But I got you first, admit it!"
"Oh, Molly, you not only got me first, you got me last and always," he replied, smiling at his fiancée as he brought his lips to hers in a tender kiss.