Dear Guest Reviewer, as this story has been planned out for them to have their own baby eventually, I wouldn't mind having them adopt in another fic!
When Friday rolled around, Molly was thankful that Sherlock had an experiment to do at the lab that morning. There weren't any autopsies scheduled today and she was finally caught up on her paperwork. Whilst they waited for the results of said experiment, they spent the time discussing wedding plans. They had planned for an April wedding, so that only left three months. It was going to be a small wedding in the spacious garden behind Mr. and Mrs. Holmes's house in Sussex. Just close friends and Sherlock's family. Molly still couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that his family was now hers too, as she had lived almost twenty years without her parents. And since she was an only child, there were no siblings either.
Her mind wandered to the first time they had met, just six months before John Watson came into their lives. Sherlock hadn't been cruel to her, but he was quite a cold person in general at the time. When Mike had lead him down to the morgue, she had caught a portion of their conversation.
"I assure you, Doctor Hooper is the finest pathologist we have," Mike told him. "I believe she will meet your standards, Mister Holmes. Just don't go falling in love now." It was just a joke, but Sherlock had taken it quite literally.
"I'm married to my work, Stamford, I have no intention to," Sherlock replied curtly. "Nor would I ever be capable of it. I'm a high-functioning sociopath." Sociopath, my arse, Molly thought.
"Well," Mike sighed, "you never really know." With a knowing smirk, Mike introduced them. "Molly, this is Sherlock Holmes. He's a private—"
"Consulting detective," Sherlock interrupted, slipping off a glove to shake her hand. He blinked in confusion as to why he found the feeling of her hand in his satisfactory.
"S—So, you consult with the police then?" Molly asked. God, he was gorgeous. Like Winston Churchill once said, he was 'a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. Those unruly ebony curls, high cheekbones and piercing cerulean eyes made her mouth go dry. But he was married to his work and she had to get rid of any notions before it got to be too much. It was the strangest feeling, but she felt that she could love a man like him. It was like his magnetic field was pulling her in the moment they touched.
"I—yes," he said in surprise. Sherlock usually had to explain the term consulting detective to others. This woman was a brilliant sort, of that he was sure. He noticed her dilated eyes, not unaware that he was a rather attractive man, nor was he humble about his many attributes. The body was merely transport, after all. But if that was true, then why couldn't he keep his eyes off of her soft pink lips—at least they looked soft—and her beautiful brown eyes. "So, Doctor Hooper—"
"Uh, y—you can call me Molly," she told him. What was wrong with her!? She sounded like a stuttering fool. Molly was sure he'd make some sort of snide remark about it, but he ignored the faltering of her voice.
"Molly," Sherlock repeated, trying it out. It was a lovely name.
"Molly? Molly!" Sherlock called out.
"Huh!?" she exclaimed, jumping off her stool.
"I'm pretty sure the entire hospital could hear you thinking so loudly," he chuckled. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I was just remembering when we first met," she smiled.
"Mm, that's a good memory," he smirked.
"It was?" she asked. "I mean, for you?"
"At the time, I was a stubborn git, but I couldn't stop watching your eyes…" he kissed both of her eyelids. "…and your lips." It was a gentle kiss that made her heart flutter.
"So, it was just as immediate for you as it was for me?" she questioned in surprise. A sigh escaped her as his lips moved to the spot below her ear.
"Yes," was all he said in a whisper. When his hands and lips were no longer all over her, she was able to clear her head.
"When you told Mike you were married to your work, well, I had always wondered if there was a deeper reason you took love off the table for yourself," Molly confessed.
"I had come to terms long before that day that I'd never find anyone who understood me. I learned to be content with being alone. I didn't think anyone in their right mind could ever love me," he admitted. "But I was fine with it, for the most part. I saw the negative effects of sentiment. Aside from my subconscious playing a part by secretly knowing Victor's disappearance, I saw more heartache than happiness with such relationships."
"I'm sorry that you ever felt that way," she told him.
"The day I met you is when it all changed, you know. You, Molly Hooper, gave me hope. Nobody has ever understood me like you do," he smiled sweetly at her. "We got along, worked well together, and you weren't bothered by my odd habits. Nor were you judgmental about the knowledge that I had overdosed a year before we met. Instead of treating me like a lowly drug addict, you treated me with kindness and cared for me. You never treated me like some inhuman freak, as Donovan would say. So, thank you for giving me the love I didn't think I deserved."
"You don't have to thank me for that," she spoke softly, choked up.
"I suppose not, but I am thankful that you came into my life," Sherlock replied, holding her in his arms. "You were always the one person that mattered most." The experiment was long forgotten, but neither cared that they had to start anew on it. The moment they had was eye-opening for Molly. She felt she had seen the deepest part of his soul after their conversation. He trusted her so much that he revealed the last piece of the puzzle to her and only her.
Author's Note: Okay, so what do y'all think of my theory as to why Sherlock always dismissed advances with being married to his work? It was an epiphany I had earlier haha!