A/N: Hello again dear readers. I hope you enjoyed the last chapter and I'm very grateful for all the reviews, favourites and follows. I am back with the latest instalment of this fic earlier than expected. I apologise if it is not as well written as the previous chapters I'm writing whilst ill and that is never a good plan. As always nothing belongs to me; it all belongs to Stephan Moffat, Mark Gatiss, the BBC, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

I hope you enjoy.

Geronimo

SM

Chapter 11:

"Not soon enough." Sherlock whispered, pulling me tighter. I wiggled in an attempt to get comfy, which just nded with a growl from Sherlock and him rolling over.

"Sh...Sh...Sherlock? Are you alright?" I asked timidly, sliding my hand down his arm to try and find his hand.

"Fine." He replied with a huff, pulling his arm away.

"Are you sure? You seem a bit..." I stuttered trying to figure out what was going on in the consulting detective's head.

"I'm fine Molly, go to sleep, it's been a long day." He interrupted, his voice turning soft at the end.

"Nighty night, Sherlock. Sweet dreams." I mumbled, pressing a kiss to his cheek before rolling over to face the glowing red of the alarm clock.

"Night, my Molly." Sherlock mumbled.

I woke up to the bleeping of my alarm clock and feeling slightly too warm. At first I thought I was coming down with the flu until I heard a rumble from something next to me.

"Turn that thing off!" Sherlock rumbled, covering his wild ebony curls with the white pillow.

"Sorry." I mumbled, hitting the off button and rolling over to face the consulting detective. "Morning," I said, pulling the pillow from his head and kissing his cheek before hopping off the bed to brush my teeth. I ambled through my apartment and into the bathroom.

Whilst brushing my teeth I head Sherlock padding towards the bathroom and before long he grabbed his toothbrush from the glass and started brushing. He was wearing a pair of jeans which hung just so on his hips and nothing else. It was rather distracting in the mirror,

"Molly, you've stopped brushing." Sherlock muttered, before placing the brush back in his mouth. I suddenly continued brushing; trying to not stare at his bare chest and defined abs.

I finished brushing my teeth and sauntered out of the bathroom, only just having enough confidence to give his booty a quick squeeze on the way out. Sherlock let out a little yelp before quickly finishing brushing and following me into the kitchen.

"I...I...I need to call Mike to say I can't work today, that okay with you?" I stuttered, turning to face my fiancé.

"Mmmhhh. I have many things to experiment on which will require your assistance." He said, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close to him.

"Sherlock, I need to call Mike," I uttered, attempting to ignore the assault on my ear and neck.

"Ten minutes," He whispered in my ear, gently nibbling on my lobe. I groaned, my hands massaging his scalp.

"If I call him now we can have more than ten minutes." I told him, pulling away and heading towards the landline.

"Fine. I'll be in the bedroom." He huffed, walking out of the kitchen as I made the call.

"Hi Mike, it's Molly. I'm really sorry but I've broken my wrist so I don't think I will be able to do autopsies for a while but I'll be in as soon as possible. Call me when you get this." I said into the phone before placing it back in the cradle and walking back into the bedroom.

I found Sherlock tapping away at my laptop, looking rather confused.

"Sherlock?" I giggled leaning against the door frame.

"What is your password? Why isn't it Toby1976?" He replied angrily,

"Because I knew you would guess that. It's 7437love." I told him, walking across the bedroom and sitting next to him, cuddling into his side. "You're googling engagement rings?" I queried, looking at the screen.

"Yes. I promised you a ring didn't I!" He announced, looking through website after website. Until he found Tiffany's website. He flicked through the options until he landed on the Tiffany & Co. Schlumberger Two Bees Ring. I thought it was beautiful but at over £60,000 it wasn't going to happen.

"You like it." He stated, looking at me.

"Of course I like it it's beautiful." I mumbled, looking at the ring on the screen and then back at him.

"Do you want it?" He asked, his blue eyes soft.

"Of course I want it Sherlock. It's the most beautiful ring I have ever seen." I replied.

Sherlock's phone started ringing.

"Hello...Hmm... Yes...Yes...We will be there shortly...Yes...Goodbye" Sherlock muttered into the phone.

"Who was that?" I questioned, closing the laptop lid and placing it on the bedside table.

"Apparently Mycroft has been busy. We have an appointment at Tiffany's to pick your ring." Sherlock said, jumping off the bed and flinging open the wardrobe. "Well? What are you waiting for?" He announced, pulling out a white tight fitting t-shirt.

"I...I...I'm just coming." I said, quickly getting off the bed and dressing.

"Then you will officially be mine." He growled, pulling on a pair of converse.

"Sorry what? We need a wedding first!" I stuttered, struggling into a pair of jeans.

"Mycroft has done the paper work. All the rings are waiting."

"WHAT?"