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Molly woke feeling deliciously dreamy, she became aware of Sherlock's arm draped across her first, thoughts were curling like smoke around her, each dissolving whenever she attempted to grasp one.

"Molly? Are you awake?" Sherlock's voice rumbled into her ear, each warm exhale tickling the hair at the nape of her neck.

Molly shivered, "Hmm, sleeping," when he began leisurely running his hand over her bare arm she hummed, "Hmm, I could get used to that Mr Holmes, don't tempt me."

Sherlock laughed, "Oh I hope you do Miss Hooper, I hope you do." Molly squealed as he rolled her underneath him, he stopped when their faces were close enough to share breath, his voice came huskily, "Still mine?"

Molly smiled, adoration shining in her eyes, biting her lip coyly she looked at him, "You foolish man, I've never been anything but yours." Sherlock's eyes crinkled in the corners in an almost ludicrously sexy way at this declaration. Molly frowned, "You're too beautiful Sherlock, it's hardly fair, how will I ever say no to you?"

Sherlock stroked a hand across her cheek lovingly, scrunching his nose he asked, "Why would you want to say no to me?"

Molly sighed, reaching up she brushed her fingers across the bridge of his nose, "How I adore that little wrinkle."

Sherlock chuckled, "You're not so innocent yourself Miss Hooper. You know how sweet you look in your lab coat, and don't get me started on the way you nearly stopped both John and Lestrade's hearts at that ill-fated Christmas party.." His words trailed off, his gaze burning into her.

Molly allowed her hands to dance up and down over his biceps, "Oh yes, that Christmas, the one where you punished me for taking everyone's attention off of you, or was it because you thought I had taken my attention off of you?" Her eyebrows were raised in challenge even as her hands wandered over his back feeling the play of muscles under the skin.

Sherlock ducked his head against her neck, "Hmm, may have been a little of both," he ruefully admitted as he nuzzled his lips along her collarbone, moving up to her ear he whispered, "I could make it up to you."

Molly tilted her head away allowing him unfettered access, "Hmm, you were very bad, you've got a lot to.. hmmm.. make up for, are you up to the task?"

Sherlock nipped at her pulse point, hands tangling up into her hair at the back of her neck. "Oh yes, I think I could make up for all manner of things.."

Molly whimpered, she'd always found her hair being touched felt amazing, but the fact that it was Sherlock Holmes tugging her locks so lightly at the base of her skull increased the pleasure tenfold, "I'll hold you to that," she warned,

"Hold me to you," Sherlock growled against her neck.

Molly laughed at the corniness of the statement, Sherlock grinned basking in her happiness, leaning into her he covered her lips with his own, brushing against them ever so gently. Molly sighed, his lips were warm and smooth, each pass against her own causing the nerve endings to dance. "Sherlock," her voice a plea, though she knew not what she was pleading for.

Sherlock pulled back and looked into her eyes, his smile so sweet and full of love that it brought tears to Molly's eyes, her breath deepening, "I'll never leave you Molly, I'm not built for sometimes, I love you, therefore I will always love you."

Molly blinked, one perfectly formed teardrop on each lid being sluiced by her lashes and set adrift to roll down her cheeks, Sherlock's eyes remained fixed on hers as he reached with first one thumb and then the other to smudge the tears away.

Molly leaned into his touch, she gusted a breath out and started, "I waited for so long.."

Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment, guilt blooming in his chest heavily, "Molly, I.."

"No, listen, I waited for so long because I had no choice, you're built into my hard drive or programmed into my DNA,' She paused smiling, "I don't know what it is, the point I'm trying to make is that I love you, whatever happens I will always love you and nothing could ever make me regret this." Molly took a breath to fortify herself for the statement she was about to make, throwing caution to the wind she dived in, "You're my heart's desire, Sherlock, you're the prince in the fairy tale, the happily ever after, the missing puzzle piece." Molly's eyes were closed, the vulnerability leaving her raw.

Sherlock's voice was low, "Molly? Do you think you're not those things to me? I've never felt this way, I fought it for so long. You've been living in my mind since I fell, wandering my mind palace in little more than a negligee often times, taunting my decision to withdraw from my sexuality, I've been at your mercy." He stared at her, willing her to open her eyes.

Molly's eyes opened, shock widening them, "I didn't know, I.." confusion silenced her, the truth of his statement apparent in his bearing.

Sherlock allowed her to see him, "If it affords any consolation I had no idea that your feelings were unchanged, I've done so much -wrong," his eyes begged her forgiveness.

Molly stroked his face gently, gliding her thumbs along his cheekbones delicately, offering him absolution, "You love me now, I find myself wanting to only think about right here, right now."

Sherlock grinned, "Right now," raising an eyebrow suggestively at her.

"Hmm," Molly replied dragging the words out, "Right now." Sinking her hands into his hair she tugged him down to her willing lips to their mutual delight.

Stevie yanked his cap down lower on his head, shoved his hands into his pockets and affected a slouch before crossing the carpark slowly keeping his eyes open for any sentries. He'd had to be extremely careful who he contacted, many of Moriarty's old contacts had been furious about his death; to their way of thinking business is business and a game with a ponce detective is an amusement, not worth throwing your life away over.

Stevie leaned against the wall of the garage and waited to see if the boss would come out or if he'd be forced to tangle with a slack-jawed minion or two before he got to the man he was here for.

A large man came loping out, around fifty, balding, rough stubble adorning his chin, though certainly not by design, clad in traditional mechanic's blue overalls. He looked Stevie up and down, his upper lip curling in disgust, "Ah, Stevie is it? These days anyway, still queer then?" He sneered.

Stevie's jaw tightened, nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed, "Do you know who I am you filthy pig?"

The older man's answering grin conveyed that he knew alright, but was spectacularly unimpressed, "I know Moriarty ain't round to keep an eye out for you anymore, pretty boy."

"And you imagine what? That Moriarty kept me around as some sort of decorative trinket? He was straight you thick git, he kept me around because I'm a trained soldier." Reaching forward with a speed the other man would not have guessed he possessed, Stevie cupped the older man's balls in hands and squeezed, "You will treat me with the same respect that you would have shown me when Moriarty was alive, because I am the same man," squeezing tighter he went on, enjoying the bigger man's pleas and curses. "I am a sharp shooter, do you understand what that means? You uneducated earwig."

"I-I-I-It's a m-m-m-marksman, please, please, I was wrong, I'm sorry, I'll help you, I-I can help, please, I've got a little girl," he wheedled.

Stevie released him and stood back, his expression sour, "That's disgusting," he spat, "You have a little girl and yet you deal in violence? What a kind of a world are you making for your own child to live in? Moriarty always said you were human excrement." He dusted his hands on his clothes as if to rid himself from the filth that had contaminated him.

Desperate now and still in very nearly overwhelming pain he offered in a low voice after hastily checking around them, "I still make the best bombs, that's why Moriarty came to me, mine are the best," he nodded along as he talked as if his own agreement was some sort of confirmation in itself. "I could make you a bomb, that's why you're here right?" He continued bobbing his head nervously.

Stevie tilted his head, "Do not presume to think for me, do you understand?"

The mechanic threw up his hands, "N-no, I'm sorry, I would never, I-, Sir? What do you want?" His voice left him bereft of any dignity.

Stevie grinned, "Hmm, yes, this I can work with, I believe you can help me with a project I have."

The two men got down to talking, by the time Stevie left he had an admirer in Andrew the mechanic, he often found those men screaming the loudest with homophobic slurs when he first met them were the ones most likely to insinuate that they wouldn't be averse to his advances once they had spent time with him and discovered his darker side. Though rather well hidden behind his convivial, pleasing face his cruel streak was every bit a match for the much fabled Moriarty.

As he drove away he was smiling; just as the detective had found his happiness it was going to be taken from him, and in the most spectacular fashion imaginable. The wedding was going to be a thing of wild beauty, just as he'd promised Mycroft, although not quite in the way Mycroft had no doubt envisioned when he'd asked him to plan the event. Oh well, he wouldn't need to worry about getting a reference, his laughter fluttered out behind him like a ribbon as he drive away.

"Sherlock?" Molly called from the kitchen, "Shall we have tea before we go?"

Sherlock seemed to appear behind her, slipping his arms around her he pulled her back against him snugly, enjoying the feel of her pressed against him, he'd always been such a tactile person so it felt nice to be able to touch, "Do we have time?"

Molly swayed gently as she considered, the answer was probably no but she couldn't help but want to keep him all to herself for just a little longer, sighing she admitted, "No, they're waiting for us."

Sherlock grinned, "We can come back here as soon as Mary and John want to be alone with the little one, you won't have to share me for long."

Molly twisted around to face him, "Promise?" She looked up at him, eyes bright with trust and happiness at his close proximity.

Sherlock looked down at her, face tilted up towards his like a sunflower seeking the sun, she'd always sought him thusly, his most fervent hope was that she would always continue to do so. For the first time since Red beard's death he dared to hope that happiness was not out of his reach; beyond his scope. A little voice in his mind popped up to remind him that the broadcaster was out there somewhere, lurking in the shadows and if he did not find and stop him this connection with Molly would mean that she would be the first person the mad man would target.

As they made their way down the corridor to find Mary's room, Sherlock's hand threaded itself into hers, Molly glanced up at him, his gaze remained steadfastly on the horizon, she smiled and ducked her head, giving his hand a squeeze. He answered her in kind giving them both the courage they needed to face their friends as a unit.

Sherlock stopped at the door to Mary's room and glanced at Molly, she nodded and he pushed the doors open and they walked in, once again Molly was surprised, though happy to feel his hand seeking hers, allowing their hands to fit together again she smiled and looked up to see Mary and John looking at them with pure, undisguised joy.

"Hello Mum," Molly breathed, her smile wide and genuine, "How was it? Have they got you on the good pain pills?" Leaning in she kissed Mary's cheek, "Dad," she nodded, kissing John's cheek next. She stepped back to let Sherlock say his hello's and felt his hand reluctantly slip out of hers.

Mary sat grinning at them like an indulgent mother, eyes following approvingly when Sherlock automatically felt around for Molly's hand as they sat down again. "So, you two are…together?"

Molly blushed and looked down, Sherlock sighed, "I see bearing a child has not diminished your powers of observation Mary."

Mary grinned, "Oh shush, I won't let you see Clara if you can't be nice, wouldn't want your ill-mannered behaviour to be passed along now would we?"

John sat in the armchair next to Mary with the baby all wrapped up in his arms, he looked at Molly, "Would you like to…?" He nodded at the little bundle in his arms.

"Oh yes," Molly looked awe struck at such an offer, she stood next to John looking at him gratefully as he stood up carefully ready to do the hand-off.

"Clara, this is Aunt Molly," John beamed as Molly took Clara gingerly being sure to cradle her delicate little head.

"Oh John, she's beautiful," Molly looked at Clara as though she had discovered the meaning of life, Sherlock was watching her in turn, his face lit with joy.

Molly made her way over to him and sat with the baby, "Look at what Mary did, Uncle Sherlock, isn't she clever?"

Sherlock peered at the tiny face nestled in the blankets, his eyes lit up, "The cleverest," his eyes met Mary's and she nodded, tears in her eyes, acknowledging what he'd done for their little family.

John broke the mood calling out indignantly, "Hey! I was involved!" Mary shook her head and rolled her eyes, smiling.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, "I hardly think your contribution would have posed much of a hard ship for you John."

Molly was mesmerised, transfixed by the little unfocused blue eyes squinting out from her sweet, red face.

John, looking on decided that a spot of revenge was in order, "Do you want kids Sherlock? How about you Molly?" He asked smugly, he sat back in his chair with an air of a job well done, Mary frowned at him, worrying that he may inadvertently hurt Molly.

Sherlock surprised them all by saying firmly and without hesitation, "Yes, I do now."

Molly tore her gaze away from Clara to stare at Sherlock in disbelief, she blinked repeatedly before finally managing, "What?" Molly looked bewildered.

Sherlock repeated it softly, "I do want children Molly," his eyes held her own unflinchingly, he was serious.

"W-well, I? I? I? Ah." Molly's confusion was palpable.

Mary laughed, "Sherlock, slow down, maybe take the poor girl on a date, there's a reason why people traditionally wait to have the big talks."

Sherlock nodded, "That is true, but that's time that is usually spent getting to know your partner, Molly and I have known each other for years, we don't need to wait for what we both want," he paused, turning back to Molly he asked, "Do we both want that?"

Molly smiled, looking shell shocked she answered him, "I guess I do."

John snorted, "If you're about to propose allow me the chance to ruin it will you?"

All eyes turned to Sherlock, one thought humming in the air, Sherlock rolled his eyes, "When I propose to Molly it will be perfect, you will not ruin it, you wouldn't do that to Molly. Not to mention there will be no proposals or pregnancies until I've identified and stopped the broadcaster."

John sat forward, "Any leads on that? Where are you at with it?" Mary and John wore his 'n' hers expressions of concern. Molly's attention was still squarely focused on Clara, wilfully so, worrying about the broadcaster every moment of every day had numbed her, she just wanted to revel in the perfection she held in her arms and block out the rest.

Sherlock blew out a breath, his face drained of colour, before he could get a word out there was a knock at the door of the room and in swept Anthea and Mycroft. Sherlock felt saved by the bell, in all the confusion the subject was simply dropped.

Anthea's, - Amy's, though scarcely anyone in the room was thinking of her name - gaze found the little bundle in Molly's arms and made a bee line for her, "Oh Mary, she's lovely!" She eased her out of Molly's arms and held her carefully, Mycroft's smile was priceless, The Iceman had a heart after all.

John threw his hands up, "I helped too y'know!"

Mary shook her head, "I seem to recall it was me carrying that miniature human being around inside my body for the longest time I've ever done anything, your contribution after a bottle of wine, just doesn't really add up." Expression softening, she went on, "They know you're her father love," she reached out a hand to hold his and pulled him over to sit on the edge of the bed for a cuddle.

Sherlock was watching Mycroft with ill-concealed amusement, "Ready to be a daddy?" He taunted.

Mycroft sighed at his little brother's attempts to needle, "You'll have to do better than that brother mine, I am in fact very much looking forward to being a father," raising his eyebrows at Sherlock his eyes darted toward Molly, "You're not getting any younger yourself, Hmm?"

Sherlock, ignoring Mycroft, smiled at Amy, "Suits you Amy, it's a new side to you."

Amy returned his smile though her eyes remained glued to Clara, "Not a new side Sherlock, I've always loved babies, I grew up looking after baby cousins, just not a side that has been particularly useful as an agent."

She crossed to Mary and the two began talking about the pros and cons of the C-section Mary had undergone. Mary had not had a choice due to the placenta praevia, but Amy would like to make an informed decision barring any medical issues that would take the decision from her.

Sherlock recognising that everyone was now caught up reached over to Molly and slipped his hand into hers, leaning over he caught her gaze and asked softly, "Fancy coming home with me love?" Leaning in a little further his lips connected with hers.

Molly's eyes shut immediately, softly he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth, grazing it ever so gently with his teeth, he slid one hand up around the base of her skull massaging his fingers into her sensitive flesh and letting her silken tresses flow over his fingers. The slightest sound came gusting out on her breath as he pulled away to check that his kiss had achieved the desired result.

Molly's chest was heaving, she looked dizzy, unable to focus, if she'd been standing she would have required help to stay on her feet, his proud grin was spotted only by John who for the first time ever when seeing Sherlock in an intimate situation did not look shocked or amused or surprised, he simply looked happy for his friend. Alright maybe he was a teensy bit shocked; the man could kiss! He'd thought him unable after witnessing the odd little closed mouth pecks he and Janine had shared that day.

John watched with an indulgent smile as the two got up and snuck out hand in hand, Sherlock whispered something in Molly's ear that made her swallow hard and blush, then she grinned and positively dragged Sherlock along in her wake, whatever he'd told her obviously met with approval and then some.

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