'This is the start of something beautiful.
This is the start of something new.'

-This by Ed Sheeran

The next morning, Molly woke slowly, her eyes adjusting to the light streaming through the curtained window. She gasped when she took in her environment, realizing she was in Sherlock's bed. Speaking of the consulting detective, he was smiling at her with amusement.

"Morning," he smirked.

"Is Mary still here?" she asked.

"Nope," he replied. "I told her to go ahead and go home with Rosie." Molly groaned in pain, her head pounding. "You, my dear, have a bit of a hangover and I intend to nurse you back to health. There's peppermint tea on the table beside you. It should help that headache of yours."

"Thanks," Molly smiled, taking the warm cup in her hands. She sipped on it slowly, her eyes searching his. "So, what happened with the case?"

"Oh that? It turned out it was hardly a four. Waste of time, really. Solved it in a few hours," Sherlock waved his hand. "The real mystery is why I came home to you and Mary passed out."

"I'm sorry. It was stupid and I'll never do it again," Molly said, leaning her head against him.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Molly, cheer up," he told her. "I'm just curious is all."

"I missed you," she mumbled. "I couldn't find the pajamas I left here and—"

"You mean these pajamas?" he chuckled, holding up her cotton nightgown.

"Where did you find it?" she asked. "I searched all over."

"I had it in my suitcase," Sherlock confessed. Molly's eyes lit up in question. "I may have done so because I knew I'd miss you too. And it…smells like you." His face flushed with embarrassment.

Molly set the tea aside and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him. Surprising to her, he returned her affections. And much to his surprise, she kissed his cheek. Even though he had yet to make their relationship official, she would settle for this friendship of theirs that felt as if it had been set on fire. She would wait until he felt ready. At least now she truly knew that he loved her as much as she loved him.

"We all do silly things," she reminded him.

"Yes, we do, don't we?" he asked, remembering their conversation all those years ago.

Molly had gone home to get a change of clothes after she helped Sherlock clean up his flat a bit. After all, it was the least she could do after having a party for two in it. When she returned, there was takeaway from Angelo's set out on the coffee table.

"Ah, Molly, there you are," he greeted her.

"Hello to you too," she laughed. "It's only been a couple of hours. What documentaries do we have…" her words trailed off, noticing the choices of material. "These are all—"

"Your favourites, yes," he finished. "I took the liberty of procuring them. We never watch anything you enjoy."

"I enjoy the documentaries," she pointed out.

"Well," he began, "okay, yes, but that's not fun for you, is it? These are all fictional choices."

"Sherlock, I really appreciate this, but I don't want you to get bored," Molly told him.

"I assure you, I won't be bored," he told her. "Pick whichever you'd like." She selected Beauty and the Beast for obvious reasons, hoping the message of it would reach him in correlation to their own relationship.

He had planned to watch Molly more than the movie, but he couldn't seem to avert his eyes from the telly. At one point, Molly had cuddled up against him. He held her, pressing a kiss to her temple. Sherlock knew he had to say something—anything—to initiate a real romantic entanglement, but he was terrified. He wanted every piece of her, and she was being so patient with him.

"What's wrong?" she asked him, noticing the worry in his eyes.

"I haven't been fair to you," he replied. "You are aware of my…sentiments for you. I've kept you waiting long enough."

"Sherlock, you don't have to rush into anything. I'll wait as long as you need me to," Molly told him. "I know you're scared. If it makes you feel better, I'm scared too."

"But?" he continued.

"But, some things are worth the risk," she finished. "You are worth the risk. I just hope you feel that I'm worth it too."

"Of course you're worth it, Molly," he assured her. "I—" Her eyes lit up in anticipation. Instead of the words she longed to hear again after that dreadful phone call, she felt his lips press against hers fervently. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she opened up enough to let him in. Their hearts were beating so hard, it felt like it was the only sound in the room.

"Mm," she hummed against his mouth, their noses brushing together.

"I love you," he murmured in between kisses. Her reply was cut off when he kissed her again. And again. "My Molly. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Whatever for?" she asked, breathless.

"For making you wait so long," he replied. His lips were now pressed to her pulse point and she felt him smile against her skin before he ran his tongue along it.

"Yes," she gasped in pleasure. "Of course I forgive you." He wrapped her up in his arms, holding her close, never wanting to let go. Molly sank into his touch immediately, reveling in the warm embrace. All at once, they both felt they were finally home.

Author's Note: Don't worry, there will be more shenanigans to come as they learn to navigate their relationship.