The dream continues

After Sherlock had left for the first time to see the captain, and she locked the door behind him, Molly sat at the table and buried her face in her hands, praying for his safety.

After a few minutes, she went over to the bookshelf, looking for something to distract her. Her eyes alighted upon a Bible and she pulled it out.

Molly had grown up in the church, in fact, she had attended Sunday services all her life until her father's death. The Bible was a comfort to her, and she took it back to the table, opening it to the Psalms.

She was drawn to one in particular, Psalm 23. It had, in fact, been read at both her mother's and father's funerals.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, she read, mouthing the words silently and going through the comforting verses, taking strength in them.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.

She felt as if the words touched her soul and were being spoken to her heart. Tears came to her eyes and fell down unchecked. They were tears of both sorrow that Sherlock did not love her, but relief that she felt God speaking to her. She was praying silently once again when she heard the knock on the door and Sherlock's quiet voice.

She knew things couldn't possibly have been resolved so quickly, but of course, she still had to ask.

When he had explained about the clothes, she had suddenly realised how his hair could betray him as not being an ordinary nobleman who followed the current fashion trends without question. It had been quite thrilling to tie his hair back, to feel the softness of his curls through her fingers.

All too soon he was gone again, but at least she had the memory of one more kiss. She lifted her fingers to her lips remembering the exquisite sensation that his tender caress had stirred within her.

Suddenly, she felt restless. Despite Sherlock's words of caution, something inside her told her she needed to do more than just stay in the cabin.

She paced the room silently, contemplating what she might be able to do. Then she heard the sound of an elderly woman's voice raised in fear, and knew something had gone wrong.

She waited a minute after the sound had receded, and quietly opened the cabin door, looking around carefully to make sure nobody was about.

Something told her Sherlock was in danger, and she knew it was God. As quietly as possible, she moved along the deck, keeping a constant vigil that nobody should see her. Everything seemed quiet until she passed the captain's cabin.

Then she heard the sound of voices and her heart nearly stopped.

She heard a man taunting Sherlock, threatening to kill his friends if he did not kill himself, and her mouth dropped open in horror. Molly moved closer to the sound of the voice, keeping in the shadows so she would not be seen. Fortunately there was nobody facing her way.

Then Molly heard Mrs. Hudson's voice pleading with Sherlock to not do it, to not jump overboard. She heard Sherlock soothing Mrs. Hudson and then her heart began to pound when she heard Sherlock's next words to John.

"I should never have brought you into this either. If Moriarty has any honour at all and releases you, please remember the woman we were discussing earlier and tell her I was a fool. Tell her I love her."

For a moment Molly wasn't certain she had really heard it, that he had actually said those words. After a moment however, she knew there would have been no reason for him to say something like that if it were not true, when he was about to die for his friends, and she knew he was talking about her.

And suddenly, as if a voice was guiding her, she knew what she had to do to save the man she loved. John spoke, and then Moriarty taunted Sherlock once more. Carefully she slipped the pistol out of her pocket. She had a clear shot of Moriarty, whose back was to her, and she prayed silently that she would not miss. There would be no second chance if she missed her target. Using her other hand to steady herself, she pulled the trigger.

Everything that transpired after that seemed to happen in slow motion. Moriarty slowly fell forward from the impact of the bullet that pierced his skull.

The pirates were completely nonplussed at what had happened, but John and Lestrade both had the presence of mind to act immediately, taking advantage of the momentary disorientation of the pirates. They turned as one and knocked out the men who had been aiming weapons at them. Mrs. Hudson also was not idle; she used her elbow, pushing it with as much force as she could into her captor's groin. The man doubled over in pain and she took hold of his gun.

The Sherrinford crew who had remained in the shadows, unsure of what to do, suddenly took action and were able to subdue the remaining pirates.

Sherlock, however, having heard the report of the gun, had turned to see what had happened. Molly stepped out of the shadows and raised a hand towards him as she dropped the pistol from her other hand. Suddenly, she became aware of the magnitude of what she had done. She had just killed a man.

Even as her mind processed this, and the fact that Sherlock and the remaining crew members were safe, she felt herself falling into blessed oblivion, crumpling to the deck.

She came to, vaguely aware of the feeling that a man's arms were around her and she was being rocked gently to and fro. Then she heard Sherlock's voice.

"Molly, my precious, my love. You saved me, my sweet angel, you saved us all."

She could hear a faint buzz of conversation in the background, Captain Lestrade giving orders to procure ropes to restrain the pirates, John's voice confirming to someone, "Yes, it was a clean shot. He's dead."

Molly's eyes flickered open and she could see Sherlock's blue-green eyes looking at her as tears ran unashamedly down his face. "Sherlock," she whispered.

She was unable to say any more because his lips came crashing down on hers. He kissed her forcefully, desperately, conveying to her everything he felt about her. Her mouth opened under his and she savoured everything he gave her. Blindly, with her free arm, she reached out to his hair, using her fingers to tug at the material that constricted his beautiful curls and pulling it away, then reaching higher to remove the one that kept the rest of his hair bound. Her fingers caressed those newly released curls as waves of delightful sensation rippled through her.

Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks as they mingled with his own, and they continued their embrace, mindlessly losing themselves in each other for some time, until they were pulled back to reality by Captain Lestrade.

Molly was a little puzzled by his words, although Sherlock tightened his arms about her. "I'm guessing you want to keep her, then?"

Sherlock raised his head and addressed the captain. "Lestrade, I was a damned fool," he responded, rising to stand and pulling Molly gently up to join him, as he curled a possessive arm around her waist.

"Can't say I'm not a little disappointed, but you did see her first, and for some reason she seems rather taken with you," remarked the captain, with a twist to his lips.

"What is he talking about?" Molly asked, looking from one man to the other in puzzlement.

"It is not important," Sherlock told her, kissing her forehead. "All that matters is that I finally realised that I love you. I thank God I have been afforded the opportunity to tell you myself."

She looked up at him. "It was God who told me what to do. I knew I had to do something to save you."

"And so you acted as His angel, my sweet, brave Molly," Sherlock said tenderly. He leaned in towards her as if he would kiss her again, but Lestrade interrupted them.

"I must apologise for breaking up this undoubtedly joyful reunion, but we still have a mission to complete, Lord Holmes," commented Lestrade, as a smile played about his lips.

Sherlock sighed and looked at the captain. "Are the pirates in restraints?"

"Those aboard this ship, yes," responded the captain. "However, we need some men to go to the other ship and secure it as well, then look for the treasure."

"You are right, of course," agreed Sherlock. "But you know the most reliable, well trained men better than I. I suggest you assemble them and then we will go over to The Black Pearl."

Molly clutched at his arm convulsively. "No! You must not. I cannot lose you now."

Sherlock cast her a loving glance. "You need not fear any consequences this time, my love. The remaining pirates will not know what to do without their master, and I am certain they will surrender easily. We will take Moriarty's body with us as proof of his death as well."

Molly shuddered at the thought, but nodded her head, trying to be brave.

At that moment, Mrs. Hudson approached. "You dear, dear child. How brave it was of you to save us all that way." She looked up at Sherlock. "I hope you know what a fine wife you have found."

"Indeed I do," said Sherlock, smiling at the elderly woman. "Will you take Molly with you to prepare some food? I must go with some men to the other ship and search for the treasure."

Of course, dear boy. Come now, child," replied the elderly woman.

"One moment, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock told her, before tilting Molly's chin up for one last kiss, a gentle one this time. "As soon as I get back, I will come down to the galley, my darling. Stay with Mrs. Hudson until then," he instructed.

"Yes, Sherlock," Molly said softly, thrilling at his use of the word darling.Then she turned and obediently followed Mrs. Hudson downstairs.

It felt like the longest two hours of her life until Molly saw her husband appear at the doorway of the mess hall, where she was sitting with Mrs. Hudson, along with several other crewmen.

In full view of the crew, Sherlock swept Molly into his arms and kissed her, before saying, "It is done, my love. All of the pirates are in our custody, and we found the treasure in the hold, not just Queen Victoria's jewels, but much more."

The crewmen, who had overheard, cheered at the announcement. They knew that this news meant they would be sharing in the reward.

Molly leaned her head against Sherlock's shoulder and lifted her face to his. "It's really over then?" she asked softly.

Sherlock caressed her face with his hand, "Yes, it is over, my darling." Then he bent close to her ear and added in a voice that only she could hear, "and tonight I am going to show you how much I love you, and we will pretend that tonight is our wedding night."

Her eyes were shining as she responded just as quietly, feeling her heart race with excitement, "I am looking forward to it, my love."

There was a general air of merriment in the mess hall after that, as the sailors who had accompanied Sherlock to The Black Pearl related what had happened. Much ale was drunk in celebration. John joined the festivities, along with several men and the captain some time afterwards. Moly heard him speaking quietly to Sherlock, saying that Moriarty had been buried at sea. His death would be reported as an accidental shooting with no further details, so Molly's name would not be involved.

John sat then with Sherlock, Molly, the captain and Mrs. Hudson, and they all enjoyed a glass of ale in celebration.

It was John who commented after some time, "Well, Sherlock, hadn't you best be taking your wife upstairs? It is getting rather late, and I think you have rather urgent matters to attend to."

Molly blushed as Mrs. Hudson, John and Captain Lestrade exchanged knowing looks.

Sherlock seemed at ease, however. "I think you are right, John. It has been a very long and eventful day, and I think it is time for us to retire for the night." He rose as he spoke and took Molly's hand, helping her to stand also. He nodded at the trio and said, "Good night."

"Good night," echoed Molly shyly, and they exited the mess hall together.

As soon as the door closed behind them and they were alone, Sherlock smiled at Molly and they walked together hand-in-hand to his cabin, a cabin that was now their cabin.

Sherlock opened the door and stopped her from entering, saying, "I believe it is traditional for a groom to carry his bride over the threshold."

He lifted Molly into his arms and carried her into the cabin, set her down, then closed and locked the door.

Molly looked up at him shyly, unsure of what to expect next.

Sherlock reached out and took both of her hands in his, then asked, "Can you forgive me for the way I behaved last night? I was such a fool, to not understand my own feelings and push you away like that. I am sorry that it took a crisis for me to realise how I felt about you." He flashed her a wry smile. "I think I was afraid of my own emotions."

Her lips curved upward. "There is nothing for me to forgive, Sherlock. I understand that you were just trying to do what was right. But now…will you please kiss me again?"

Sherlock chuckled. His arms came around her and he pulled her close. Then his lips were on hers They were demanding, possessive, and she responded to his touch, feeling little flickers of flame rise within her. He laid a trail of fiery kisses downwards, tracing a line to her throat and frantically beating pulse even as his hands moved to unfasten the buttons of her gown.

Task accomplished, he tugged the material downwards, exposing her shoulders, so he could kiss one, then the other. Pushing the garment down still further, he helped Molly slide her arms from the sleeves and then he was touching her breasts, caressing them. She gasped with pleasure when he replaced his hands with his mouth, kissing one breast, while caressing the other, then repeating the action with her other breast. She whimpered at the sensations he was arousing in her, blindly fumbling for his shirt buttons and unfastening them one-by-one until his chest too was exposed. His breath hitched as she trailed her small hands along his strongly muscled pectorals, feeling the way his heart was beating at an accelerated rate.

And then he was kissing her again as her hands shifted to clasp around his neck, fingers tangling into the curls at the nape. He pushed her gown further until it slid down below her hips and she stepped out of it.

Sherlock lifted Molly into his arms and carried her over to the bed, removing his mouth from hers to murmur huskily, "You are so beautiful, my darling. I want to be closer to you. I want to make love to you."

"Yes, Sherlock," she whispered, her own voice laced with desire. "Make me yours." She drew his head back down to hers.

Their kisses became more urgent, even as Sherlock slid a hand beneath her drawers to cup her bottom and caress it briefly, before dispensing with the rest of their clothes. Then he covered her body with his own and there were no more words, but the sounds of passion between a man and woman who loved each other, as they gave their bodies to one another for the first time.

Author's note: Finally, they are together. Did it fulfill your expectations? I hope the wait was worthwhile!

What did you think about the way Molly saved Sherlock? This time she got to personally save him, rather than just help him defeat Moriarty as happened in the show. I wanted to show how brave she was, and her faith as well.

Is this the end of the story? Is it time for the real Sherlock to wake from his dream, or are there still unresolved issues ahead? What is your personal opinion on what's going to happen next?