Author's note: Thank you to everyone who has been faithfully supporting this story, especially those who have been reviewing it chapter by chapter. Your support and encouragement of my work means so much to me and keeps me motivated to continue writing. For the majority of you who rarely, or do not ever leave any type of feedback, please consider this. What takes you maybe 5 to 10 minutes to read, takes many hours of effort by fanfiction writers who have to not only write the story, but also go back and edit/revise/proofread multiple times in order to make it fit for publication. When you leave a review, in essence, you are giving a "tip" to the author, to show your appreciation for a job well done. Those "tips" give us the same job satisfaction as you get in the work place when you are thanked, or at school when a teacher tells you how well you've done. It costs you nothing but a few moments of your time to type a few letters into that review box. Something to think about...
As Molly curled her arms around Sherlock's neck while he carried her out to the waiting carriage, she noticed that the rain had completely stopped. The sun had emerged from behind the clouds and was casting a glow on the landscape, almost as if it was welcoming her and Sherlock, and that they need have no more fear about the future. Now that her stepmother was dead, Molly knew she was truly free.
John opened the carriage door for Sherlock, who managed to get her inside it in a much more graceful manner than in which she had been pulled out of the other one. Her back still ached a little where it had bumped the floor of the other carriage earlier. Sherlock deposited her on the seat gently and sat beside her.
Instead of entering the carriage himself, John looked at the two of them and said, "Well, I think I might take the air instead and sit on the box with Stamford, now that the rain has stopped. Then I can also keep an eye on that parson as well."
"Thank you, John," responded Sherlock to his friend, who then closed the door of the carriage to climb onto the box With the other two men, and Molly knew John was being kind in allowing Sherlock and herself some privacy, especially as the coachman's box was not really designed to accommodate three people, so it was sure to be a little uncomfortable.
Even as the carriage started moving, Molly suddenly felt the events of the past several hours washing over her as shock set in. She had come so close to losing everything and tears welled in her eyes as she remembered the horror she had felt, and her despair and fear of losing everything she held dear. Sobs wracked her body, and Sherlock's arms came around her comfortingly, as she buried her face against his chest.
His hands moved in comforting circles along her back as he murmured that she was safe, and that everything would be okay now. Even as she cried, she remembered the way he had comforted her after that sailor had tried to force himself upon her. Sherlock's movements had been more awkward at that time, but now he held her protectively and she felt loved and cherished.
Finally the tempest stopped and she raised her head. "Will you tell me what happened, how you found me?" she asked him.
"I need to do one thing first," he replied and she looked at him questioningly.
She watched him put his hand into his pocket and extract the signet ring she had dropped for him. Then he gently replaced it on her finger, saying, "This is just temporary, my love. Once we get to London I will replace it with a proper wedding band. There is also a sapphire ring that belonged to my grandmother which I will give you as an engagement ring. I am only sorry we did not do things in the traditional manner."
Molly looked at him with shining eyes. "That sounds lovely, but I care nothing for ostentation. All I care about is that you love me."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "So you do not wish for an engagement ring, then?"
Molly giggled and blushed. "Just because I do not need anything but your love, does not mean I will not accept such a gift if you should wish to give it to me."
Sherlock smiled and tilted her chin up in order to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "It is what I wish, my sweet angel," he declared, and then it was time for him to explain how he had found her.
He explained to Molly the deductions he had made that led to him finding her in that church.
She in turn told him of the events that had transpired after she had left him at the harbour, and the conversation she had overheard between her stepmother and Magnussen when she had pretended to still be unconscious.
Sherlock touched Molly's cheek gently. "I can't believe that woman had the nerve to slap you," he said fiercely, looking into her eyes.
Molly raised her hand to place it against his, where it rested on her cheek. "It doesn't hurt anymore, and there is no point in being angry about it. Would you kiss me again now? I don't want to think about that anymore."
Instead of responding with words, Sherlock responded with action, bending his head and touching her lips with his own, and Molly felt sensations swirling within her as she always did when they kissed. His lips were possessive and demanding, and they made her forget everything but the wondrous feel of being in his arms.
It was with a sense of regret that she felt the carriage come to a standstill, and knew they had arrived back at the end. Sherlock released his hold on her, and they were both sitting demurely when Stamford opened the carriage door.
Molly couldn't help giggling when Sherlock insisted on carrying her into the inn, declaring he was not about to let her feet get dirty now, after he had managed to keep them dry thus far.
As soon as he set her down inside, he told her, "Much as I hate to let you out of my sight for one second, I must make sure the authorities take that corrupt parson into custody and alert them to what has happened. I must also be in contact with Mycroft, to make sure no problems arise as a result of what has occurred."
He looked at John, who had followed them inside. "I am sure there is no danger now, but please, don't lose my wife again. She happens to be rather precious to me." His lips quirked upwards a little, to show that he was not really cross with John for the events that had occurred. She was safe and that was all that mattered.
John's expression was serious though as he responded. "I won't let her out of my sight until you return, Sherlock."
True to his word, John remained with Molly in the dining room as she enjoyed a calming cup of tea and scones. She saw Captain Lestrade enter the room a little while later and he greeted them. He also seemed rather taken with the waitress who served him, named Lori, who had also served Molly.
John told Molly about Mary, his lady love, who awaited him back in London. "I think I will leave first thing in the morning, now that everything is finished with the mission. There is no need for me to wait for The Black Pearl to arrive, and I am rather anxious to return to my own lady." He winked at Molly and added, "Seeing the two of you together has helped me to decide it is time to offer for her hand."
Molly's mouth dropped open. "Oh, that's wonderful news. I look forward to meeting her."
He beamed. "I'm sure the two of you will get along very well."
After what seemed like an age, but was really less than two hours, Sherlock returned and sought Molly out. He sat down in the chair beside her and expelled a breath.
John and Molly looked at him expectantly. "Everything has been taken care of," he announced, taking Molly's hand and stroking it lightly. She trembled slightly at his touch.
"Would you...would you like something to eat?" She looked at him shyly as she spoke.
His lips quirked, as he slid his glance to John, then back to Molly. "Actually, I think I would prefer to have a rest. It has been a rather emotional day, do you not agree?" His hand continued to stroke hers, and she saw a look in his eyes which she was certain meant he wished her to accompany him to their room.
"I do indeed agree, and I must concede that I should like to have some rest as well." She blushed a little, because of the smirk on John's face.
He only said however, "You two had best be off, then. I think I shall go and chat with Captain Lestrade, then have an early night. I told Molly I'm off to London first thing in the morning. It is time for me to make an honest woman of my Mary."
Sherlock's brows rose a fraction. "Am I to assume this decision has been precipitated by my own hasty marriage?"
John grinned. "Quite possibly, my friend."
Sherlock smiled. "I wish you a good night John, and I shall see you in London again soon." He rose from his seat, then went to assist Molly from hers, and taking her hand they went upstairs together.
As soon as they entered their room, Sherlock closed and locked the door behind him. Then he said, "Tomorrow morning we shall find a shop and purchase you some new gowns and underthings to wear until we have the chance to have you fitted for a trousseau in London."
Molly frowned at that, and shook her head quickly. "Sherlock, I do not need a new trousseau. I have many gowns at my father's house in Mayfair. I need only go there, and now that my stepmother is gone, I assume that the house will belong to me, or rather, you, now that you are my husband." There was a caressing note in her voice as she said the last word.
Sherlock put his hand under her chin and lifted it. "Very well. As soon as we arrive in London, we can take care of all the legalities. However, I must confess that I am very glad that I shall have no need of your money once my reward for this mission comes through."
She reached up and put her hands around his neck to pull him closer. "I am happy to give everything I have to you, my love. All I have is yours." Now her voice held a note of passion.
He quirked an eyebrow at her and the corner of his lips twitched, as he placed his free hand against the small of her back."Everything, my love, including your sweet, captivating body?" His voice was deep and low and she thrilled at it.
She pressed herself closer. "Everything," she breathed.
He lowered his lips to hers and began to kiss her, even as his hands moved to roam her body, within a very short time seeking the fastenings at the back of her gown. Task accomplished, he slid the gown down to view her uncorseted figure, and his hands caressed her breasts, then his mouth.
She threw her head back and whimpered, giving herself over to the thrilling sensations his caresses evoked in her. Even in the short space of time they had been married, his touch had become more sure, more confident, as he learned what her body responded to.
Her own hands reached for the buttons on his shirt so that she could unfasten them, and his breathing grew ragged even as she pushed it aside to slide her hands along his chest. Daringly, her hands moved down to his own trousers, and she gasped as she became aware of the full extent of his need for her.
Sherlock offered her a lopsided grin. "You see what you do to me, my sweet little wife?" He proceeded to remove the rest of his clothes, followed by hers, then lifted her into his arms to place her on the enormous bed, as he continued his adoration of her. His fingers danced along her skin, as he moulded himself to her, and their bodies entwined in that union of intimacy which brought such joy and fulfillment.
For some time, the only sounds in the room were the soft murmurs and cries of love and passion between them.
Afterwards, Sherlock's fingers drifted along Molly's skin as she lay in his arms,. "I still cannot comprehend how I spent so much of my life hating women, abhorring sentiment, and yet within a few days of you entering my life, you turned my world upside down. What did I do to deserve you, Molly?"
She tilted her head up to look into his face. "It was God's timing, Sherlock. He set the things in motion for our paths to cross at exactly the right time. God is the one who weaves the intricate tapestry of our lives."
His finger stilled on her skin suddenly, and his gaze was thoughtful. "I have often thought that the world is woven from billions of lives, every strand crossing every other. What you are saying is that God weaves those lives, our lives, so that they intersect."
Her hand reached out to caress his cheek. "That is it exactly, Sherlock. I believe that God is ultimately the one in control, the one who sets things in place for us. I also believe that at the end of our lives we will be able to see how God worked all things for good for us. But at the same time we are the ones who must make the decisions on which paths to take."
He reached his hand up and placed it over hers, then shifted it so he could kiss her palm. "For one so small in stature, you are very wise, my darling. I am very glad that God laid a path for me to you."
Molly quivered at his touch, yet pouted a little. "Size has nothing to do with wisdom. Wisdom comes from being open to learning new things." Then the pout disappeared as her lips curved upward. "However, I must agree that I too am glad you followed that path to me."
He bent his head to settle a gentle kiss on her lips and they slept.
When they woke, they dressed once again and headed downstairs in order to take a late meal.
There was a general air of merriment in the inn as several of the sailors from The Sherrinford came in to enjoy mugs of ale. Once The Black Pearl and the treasure within it arrived safely on the morrow, they would all receive their share of the reward.
Molly was slightly apprehensive, fearing that she might see once again the crew member who had accosted her, and Sherlock noticed her distress.
He led her to a table in a quiet corner, far away from the scene of merrymaking. After the same waitress from earlier had taken their orders, he took Molly's hand. "What ails you, my love?"
Molly cast a nervous glance in the direction of the sailors, then turned her head back to Sherlock. "I was wondering if that man, you know, the one from the ship who tried to force himself on me, was here." She bit her lip, looking around once again.
Her fears were allayed, however, at Sherlock's next words. "If he were here, I can assure you that he would not get anywhere near you, however, in this case it is not possible. He happens to be one of the crewmen who is on The Black Pearl currently. I made sure of that." His hand tightened on hers.
Molly breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God. I really have no desire to see him again." Then she pressed her lips together again. "Tomorrow, when The Black Pearl arrives, do you wish me to be at the dock with you?"
Sherlock shook his head. "That will not be necessary. As it happens, after I left here with John earlier, once I had seen that that parson, Smith, was escorted to jail, I went to see Mrs. Hudson, whose sister happens to live in Dover, and she is currently visiting with her. I asked if I might leave you with her temporarily, while I see to things and make sure everything from The Black Pearl is brought ashore. When everything has been done, I will return to you with a carriage and we will head for London." His gaze flickered a little and he looked somewhat embarrassed. "I have a small residence in Baker Street. I know it is not something nearly as impressive as what you are used to but once I receive the reward for this mission, there will be enough money for me to purchase our own home."
Molly was about to respond, but their meals came at that moment and they ate quietly, with little conversation. She was thinking about Sherlock's words about them buying a home. He had obviously forgotten their earlier conversation about her father's house.
Lestrade came over briefly to chat with them, and he mentioned that he planned to go for a late supper with Lori, once she was finished with her duties for the evening. Molly was glad for him. The captain had always seemed to be a very pleasant man and she hoped he would have a chance at happiness, even as she had found it with Sherlock.
A short time later, in their room once more, Molly broached the subject of them having their own home. "Sherlock, it is not necessary for you to purchase a home of our own. I told you earlier that my father's mansion is now rightfully mine. There are no relatives to inherit the title, so the house will revert to me as the last in the line of succession. He told me this himself, before he married Florence. Of course, things changed once he married her, but now that she is dead, I'm certain that I am the rightful owner."
She looked apprehensively at Sherlock whose brows were drawn together. "I do not like to think of being a kept man, Molly. I wish to be the one to take care of you, not the other way around."
She pressed her lips together and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. "Well, if you feel so strongly about it, I have a solution for that."
His brows lifted at that and she knew he was surprised at her fierce manner towards him. "And what is your solution, my little tigress?"
Her lips twitched at that. "It is quite simple. Once the ownership of the house is established as being mine, I shall sell it to you, and it will rightfully belong to you. Then my money can be kept in trust for any future children we are blessed with."
He stared at her for a moment, then chuckled. "That is indeed a practical solution." He stepped closer and slid his arms around her waist. "So now that our future living arrangements have been made, I think it is time for us to explore some other, less practical pursuits."
He bent his head and captured her lips with his own even as she removed her hands from her hips to slide them around his neck and tangle her fingers in his curls, luxuriating in the feel of him, as always.
He proceeded to lavish her with kisses, using his hands and his mouth to evoke wild sensations within her, until she was begging for him, crying for him to be one with her.
And for the second time that day, they gloried in their union, as two became one flesh. As they rode and crested the waves of ecstasy, Molly couldn't help the tears that trickled down her cheeks, tears of joy that she was, at last, safe in the arms of the man she loved, the man for whom she had been created, and who indeed God had created for her as well; and when Sherlock noticed her tears as he moved his body from hers to lay next to her, he drew her close and kissed the tears away tenderly, understanding her feelings without words. Before long, they were both lost to slumber.
Author's note 2: Bet you're glad I didn't finish the story at the end of the last chapter, aren't you? I used some of Sherlock's own words from the show to include a little talk about God. I'd love to know what your thoughts are on the way God works in our lives.
Two chapters left. The next one takes place several months later, and the last one will take place in the "real" world. I hope to have it finished before I leave next week on a school trip for several days which I am chaperoning.
The review box below is calling your name :)