A/N: I'm afraid to say that we are near the end of this FanFic. To be honest I'm a little sad to see it end but this is where it ends.
To the 43 Followers: Thank you all so very much for following this story! I hope you have enjoyed it!
R&R and Enjoy!
~Chapter 7: After the Snow~
~Twelve Months Later~
P.O.V: Sherlock Holmes
Joan was out at the store, picking up some groceries. Sherlock had told her that he had conducted some sort of experiment that required the usage of half a gallon of milk, the entire contents of an egg carton among other things. Joan wasn't too pleased with this but did not seem to be cross with him. Surely after living with him for thirty months this has become expected. But in truth he just needed her out of the brownstone so he could fix the kitchen.
Sherlock took a moment to examine this thought. Eighteen months of living with her. Progressing from sober companion to partner. Followed by twelve months of a more intimate aspect. He still could not quite grasp the amount of change that has occurred within him.
But here he was, about to do something he never thought possible of him.
"Sherlock, I'm back!" Joan yelled from the main door.
He wanted her to be his, and his alone. He cared about her more than he was willing to admit in one sitting.
"You lucked out, they had a sale on eggs today so I decided to pick up two dozen. One for you and one to eat."
Observing Captain Gregson and the reason he married his wife, Sherlock tried hard to come up with a reason. But he was stuck. He lacked the ability to find a reason to marry. Yet, he realizes that he seems to already be in a situation like that with Joan. She lives with him. She helps make him better.
"Sherlock? Why are the lights out?" Joan asked as she flipped the switch for the kitchen lights. That was when he saw her take notice.
The only light in the area came from the dim glow of the fireplace in the living room and the soft light that came from two lit candles that were on the table.
Today was the day that he decided to clean up the kitchen himself. Today was also the day Sherlock remembered that Joan wasn't an exact replica of himself or of Moriarty and that she still had a spot for the "real" world.
Joan's hand covered her mouth as she was rendered speechless. Sherlock looked down for a moment and smiled.
Today was the day that he researched various versions of her favorite dish.
He guided her to the table and seated her.
"This isn't a test or anything like that is it?" she asked.
"Nothing of the sort my Dear Watson," he whispered by her ear before kissing just below it.
Sherlock seated himself and they enjoyed their meal while discussing their latest case as well as some background information on each other. Sherlock found himself enjoying that bit more and more and anticipated their next conversation. He was still fascinated by her, she still surprised him.
He cleared the dishes just as she was about to pick up her plate. He knew that Joan was suspecting something but was fairly certain she wouldn't figure it out.
"What's all of this about Sherlock?" she asked.
He approached her then held her hands in his.
"My Dear Joan Watson, I have practiced this speech numerous times and yet I stand before you unable to recall a single word of it. What I would like to do is propose to you. It would be up to you how we should go about celebrating it if you should accept. If you feel that this is too soon, know that my…feelings, remain as is and that I can and will wait if I must. You have irrevocably and utterly changed me from the shadow of a man that you met to the person I am as I stand. You have shown me the importance of holding onto some meaningful relationships. I understand that there are moments where the thought of leaving has crossed your mind, where I push well past boundaries, but you stay each time. If you accept, I want you to think of this," Sherlock said as he let go of Joan and reached into his pocket to pull out a simple box and opened it, "as a promise that no matter what may happen, no matter what we may encounter, I am yours and that…I," he paused for a moment to take a deep breath, "That I love you Joan. So the question is: Will you Joan Watson marry me?"
Sherlock felt exposed. He left himself wide open for her to decide what to do with him. She could easily make him feel like the luckiest man in the world, make him wait, or make him spiral down further than before. Though anticipating each answer nothing could prepare the feelings that swelled up inside when he did hear her answer.
"Yes," she said ever so softly. He heard though and his lips came crashing down on hers.
A/N: Next and last, final chapter will be the Epilogue! Thank you again!