"So, where was I?" Sherlock asked Molly.

Molly furrowed her brow. "You told me your dream left off just as you were about to commit suicide in order to save your friends." She pursed her lips and frowned. "Come to think of it, that sounds eerily reminiscent of what you did when you threw yourself off the roof of Saint Barts."

Sherlock's lips twisted into a slight grimace. "I suppose my psyche chose this alternate scenario because of that experience."

"Well," said Molly, raising herself up on one elbow, "how did you survive? I'm assuming there wasn't an inflatable life raft below you that you jumped onto." Then she smirked. "Although that would have been rather funny, given the Victorian time period of the dream."

Sherlock let out a soft chuckle. "Indeed that would have been amusing, but no, my saviour was actually you." He turned his body so that he too was facing her.

Molly gave him a look of astonishment. "I saved you? But how?"

"As it turns out, I had given you a pistol for protection and told you to remain in your cabin. Anyway, you're going to love this. Your own character was also a Christian, and she was reading the Bible."

Molly smiled at him. "I like that. It's nice to know that even in a dream, there remains the essence of who we are as people in our real lives." Her stomach suddenly gave a gurgle. "Oh, why don't we continue this over breakfast?"

Sherlock pouted. Retelling the romantic part of the story might be best done in bed so he could lavish Molly with all the affection his dream counterpart had done. He looked at the clock and was surprised to see it was already after ten o'clock in the morning. It really was time to get out of bed, he realised. "Very well," he said, a little grudgingly, as he sat up.

Molly also sat up and got out of bed, then slipped on his blue dressing gown, which gave him a little hope for their later activities. She was out of the room and headed towards the kitchen before he had even made a move to get out of bed.

He spent a few moments replaying the dream in his mind palace, so he would not forget the details, then he got out of bed and put on his red dressing gown. At the same time, he realised that Molly may have only put on the dressing gown intending to go back to bed and sleep after breakfast. She had, after all, been on nightshift and was undoubtedly ready to sleep more.

He ducked into the loo and as he exited the bathroom, he could already smell the appetising aroma of bacon frying on the stove. Molly turned to him as he entered the kitchen. "Scrambled or fried eggs today, honey?" she asked, giving him an amused look when she saw he too wore only his dressing gown.

"Fried please," he responded, noting that she had already turned the kettle on.

He continued to relate the story, even as he prepared coffee for them, while Molly continued cooking their breakfast.

"As I was saying, you were reading your Bible and then you had this restless feeling. Then you heard Mrs. Hudson's voice, which sounded scared, and you realised that something had gone wrong. The little voice inside you told you to investigate."

Molly glanced at him briefly before turning her attention back to the eggs, flipping them over, and turning off the heat so the yolks would not overcook. She and Sherlock both liked their yolks to still be a little runny, so they could dip their toast into them. "Isn't it amazing how God can make something clear even in a dream?"

Sherlock put some bread in the toaster as he responded. "It is quite remarkable. To continue the story, you saw what was happening when you reached the deck. You could see the danger John and others were in, and that I was about to climb the railing, and a voice told you how to save me." He paused for a moment as he carried their coffee cups to the table, then continued. "You might not like this part too much, but you pulled out the pistol and shot Moriarty in the back of the head, because he was facing away from you."

"Oh my goodness," murmured Molly. "I must've been a good shot. Just as well it wasn't the real me, I wouldn't even know how to handle a gun." Her lips quirked, even as she began putting their bacon and eggs on plates.

Sherlock paused in his commentary, while he brought the toast over to the table and added them to the plates. Once they had begun eating, he continued with his story. "Well, you were certainly brave, and you saved the day, because the act of shooting Moriarty completely surprised his pirates and they were soon overpowered." Then he added, suddenly remembering this little point, "You had also overheard me confess my love for you to John."

Molly chewed and swallowed a bite of her eggs, then commented, "I suppose I rushed up to you and told you I loved you too."

Sherlock almost choked on his latest mouthful of food as he laughed. "Actually no. You fainted again. That was the third time you had fainted in the dream as well-"

"Hang on a minute," Molly interrupted, putting down her fork. "You never told me before that my character fainted. When did this happen?"

Sherlock pondered a moment. "The first time was after a bad storm, which was when I discovered you were a woman because your cap fell off when I was carrying you to the bed. You had insisted on going out into the storm to collect a tray of food for us. The second time was after that nasty sailor almost raped you."

He saw Molly cringe at that. "Well, dream Molly does sound like a typical Barbara Cartland heroine, I must say. In that way she's definitely not like me, though. I think my counterpart would not be very good when it came to working in a morgue and seeing all those dead bodies." Molly paused for a moment, then gave Sherlock a mischievous smile and said, "She would probably end up in another dead faint." She laughed at her own little joke, even as Sherlock shook his head and chuckled as well. He remembered telling Molly not to make jokes on that long ago Christmas Day, but secretly, he quite enjoyed her rather morbid sense of humour. You definitely had to have one when you dealt with dead bodies all day long.

As they continued to eat, Sherlock related more of the story, explaining how he had kissed Molly after she had fainted, and confessed his love when she woke from her faint.

He explained how they had enjoyed a wonderful wedding night and then spent another three days together, staying in their cabin for most of it, even as The Sherrinford returned to Dover, with The Black Pearl following, having been commandeered by the Sherrinford crew, and the treasure successfully found on the vessel.

Molly gathered their plates together to put into the sink. "So, all's well that ends well?" she asked.

"Hell, no," responded Sherlock. "The story is definitely not finished yet. Did you forget about the stepmother?" He stopped behind Molly and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

She hastily dropped the plates in the sink and turned in his embrace. "I had forgotten, actually. So what happened with the stepmother, then?"

Sherlock gave her a smouldering look. "Why don't we finish the story in the bedroom?" he suggested.

Molly pulled back from him a little so that she could tap his chest with her finger. "I knew you had ulterior motives when you didn't bother getting dressed."

Sherlock smirked. "Don't I always?" He bent down and put his hands on her bottom, then lifted her, and she obligingly wrapped her legs around him so he could carry her to the bedroom.

He had deposited her on the bed and was about to untie her dressing gown when she squirmed slightly. He looked at her in concern. "Morning sickness kicking in?"

She pressed her lips together and looked embarrassed. "No, I just need the loo. I wanted to get the breakfast started so I didn't go earlier."

He sighed a little. So much for a little seduction before telling the rest of the story.

She gave him an apologetic look and hopped off the bed, heading to the bathroom, while he removed his dressing gown and hung it back up, then slipped beneath the covers. It was as well he was not on a tight schedule today. He only had to stop into the Yard later, in response to a non-urgent request by Greg Lestrade.

When Molly returned, she arched an eyebrow at him. "You certainly didn't waste any time getting back into bed, did you?"

He gave her a lopsided smile and made a gesture for her to join him. "I suggest, Mrs. Holmes, that you hurry up and get into bed if you want to hear the rest of the story."

She batted her eyelashes at him then and slowly untied the belt of her dressing gown, shimmying it off her shoulders and allowing it to slide down her body until it fell into a pool at her feet. Always the temptress, he thought, even as she joined him under the covers and scooted her body close to his.

He drifted a hand along the side of her body, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin, but she pushed it away and gave him a mock frown. "Story first, lovemaking later," she said in a no-nonsense tone.

"You are no fun," he complained, pouting at her, upon which he was subjected to an eye roll by his wife.

Defeated for now, he proceeded to relate the rest of the story. He told her about her counterpart being kidnapped by her stepmother's lover, and the way she had dropped her wedding ring in order to leave a clue for him to show she had not left willingly. He explained how his own counterpart had made the deductions necessary in order to find her at the church where she was being forced into a marriage that would have been dated to a time before their own marriage, thus negating their nuptials aboard ship.

Molly put her hands to her mouth when she heard this and made an exclamation of horror. "Oh, Sherlock, this is so terrible. Surely you got there in time?" Then she gripped his shoulders.

He reached to pull her body against his. "Of course I did, or rather the dream me did." Then he offered a wry smile. "In fact, and here is another slice of art imitating real life, I shot Magnussen in the head and killed him when he pulled out his own pistol."

Her hold tightened on his shoulders. "Well, he deserved it. And the stepmother?"

"She slipped, thanks to having muddy slippers, hit her head against a corner of the altar and that was the end of her too."

Molly sighed with relief. "Thank heavens."

"It was a rather fitting end to the woman." Then he couldn't suppress a grin as he said, "At least dream Molly didn't faint again."

"That's probably because she had to toughen up in dealing with you on a full-time basis," his wife teased.

Sherlock's eyes danced as he responded. "I don't disagree. Although she did cry with relief afterwards in my, er, the other Sherlock's arms." He rolled his eyes. "It gets so confusing to relate a tale in which you are talking about a dream version of yourself."

Molly giggled, moving a hand to touch his curls. "I know that too well - remember when I was telling you about my uni dream? It was hard to know whether to say she or I when describing what happened. Same with the dream where I was a princess and you were my prince." She paused, then gave him an inquiring look. So was that the end of the dream?"

Sherlock was starting to think this dream was taking altogether too long to relate. He was ready to be done with it and take his wife properly in his arms for some non-verbal communication. He let out a deep breath. "Not quite. Can I tell you the rest later?" he began to move his hand in circles along her lovely warm back.

Molly let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure, but then she frowned at him. "No, you may not finish it later because you might forget the details."

Sherlock huffed. "You know very well I never forget the details of anything unless I consciously decide to delete them." When Molly gave him an exasperated look, he decided to just finish it and get it over and done with.

"Fine, fine. After everything happened, we went back to the inn and made love, twice." Molly's eyes widened slightly but she didn't say anything, so he continued. "After that, the next scene was six months later and we had just been at John and Mary's wedding. I had been given the title of an Earl which made you a Countess. You were six months pregnant. Apparently John and I had a wager because he said we were having twins, and I didn't believe it."

Molly laughed. "What is it about us and dreaming about babies? I guess it must be because I'm pregnant. I hope you found out if it was twins or not. " She sighed again happily aS Sherlock continued to rub her back. Thank God he was almost finished with the story now.

"Yes, the scene shifted to you giving birth. John delivered a little girl and I was all happy because we had another bet going. I had agreed to name a son Hamish, so I was pleased that we had a daughter. But then you went on to have a son as well, so it was twins after all."

Molly's fingers curled around Sherlock's neck. "So we had to name our son Hamish? Thank God it was just a dream."

Sherlock smirked. "Yes, but we named him Hamish Benedict and I told John our son could go by his middle name. After all I don't go by my first name either."

"Benedict?" questioned Molly. "Where did that name come from?"

"From the dream version of you, actually. You said it means blessed and that it was appropriate because we had been blessed with twins." Sherlock kissed Molly's forehead.

"And did we name our daughter?" Her voice was a little breathless. Sherlock had moved his hand downwards to cup her bottom.

"Mhm. Louise Martha, after your school chum and Mrs. Hudson, who, incidentally, was on hand during the birth as well." His hand came back up to gently knead Molly's breast. "And that's the end. So now can we get on with our non-verbal communication, my love?"

Molly didn't answer, merely pulling his head down to hers so they could enjoy a very satisfying kiss. And when their need for more than kisses overwhelmed them, their bodies joined in joyful union.

Making love in the real world in their London home was eminently preferable to dreaming about it, even if a ship was a more exotic location, thought Sherlock afterwards, as he stroked Molly's hair tenderly. She gave him a drowsy smile and closed her eyes.

Even as her breathing became more regular and she drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help wondering about the baby she was carrying. Would it be a boy or girl? All this dreaming of twins had made him decide he was never going to proclaim "It's never twins" again. Soon they would hear their own baby's heartbeat. Sherlock hoped there was just one baby being nurtured by Molly's body. One baby would definitely be enough to contend with, but who knew? Maybe one day there would be twins in their future. Only time would tell.

THE END

Author's note: Thus ends another of my labours of love. It's a rather bittersweet feeling to end a story that has taken so much of my time to create, especially in light of the fact that I don't know if I will have time to write another one in this Victorian genre.

If you enjoyed this, but have not yet tried any of my other stories, this will be your chance to do so while I am essentially off-line for a week. I will try to at least respond to any reviews I receive, but I will not be publishing anything while I am away, (that is going to be an adjustment for me, because I have been publishing three or more chapters per week since November, 2017). If the story of my "real" characters of Sherlock and Molly intrigues you, why don't you try reading it from the beginning with the engagement story? You will find lots of drama, romance, humour, angst in it as well as Christian themes. My goal has always been to provide more than mere entertainment for my readers, as I try to bring forth messages of hope and inspiration, and I hope that shows in the way I write. If you have found my writing to be an encouragement, let me know. I need encouragement on a consistent basis too. You can also check out my latest story, I Love You - Two Years Later, if you'd like a glimpse into my future Sherlolly world. Your feedback on that one would also be appreciated, Don't just keep your thoughts to yourself. I wrote it for the 2nd anniversary of the final episode, which was 1/15/17.

As promised, here is a list of the people to whom I wish to extend my sincere thanks for their support.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

TheonewithwheelsASH - As usual, you make me smile with your unfailing support of my stories, and your willingness to share your own deductions on what will happen when you review each chapter. I'm proud to be your beta for your own story.

EllemichelleP - So happy you finally had time to read and catch up on this story, my friend! To see a bunch of reviews come in on the same day from you, well, to quote Sherlock, "It's Christmas!" Looking forward to our future collaboration this year.

Mamabear04 - I value our friendship so much and always appreciate your insights into this story, and all the others you leave feedback on!

Comp1mom - You know how much you mean to me, both within the fanfiction realm and outside it. Thanks for your words of wisdom to me, and for your insightful reviews on my stories that show you are almost as invested in my little Sherlolly universe as I am!

Tboy1971 - It might take you awhile to get to this last chapter, but I am always confident that you will get there in the end, and that you will consistently review when you do find the time to read! Thank you for the support!

SammyKatz - I am always in awe of how devoted a Sherlolly follower you are, and appreciate that you enjoy reading my stories!

Aslan's Princess - So delighted you've found my stories and are enjoying them. You're truly awesome! (added 7/10/19)

To all those (including guests) who have taken the time to express their appreciation for my storytelling, thank you. Like anyone else, I thrive when I hear from people and it inspires me to continue. I hope you will continue to read my other stories about Sherlock and Molly.

GoodShipSherlollipop