The next few weeks kept Sherlock busy with cases. John helped most of the time while either Mrs. Hudson or Molly would watch Rosie. Today was a case free day for Sherlock. Much to his surprise, Molly came home early in frustration, storming off to the kitchen. He put his violin down as he watched her lean over the sink, taking out the elastic band and running her hands through her hair.

"Molly, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. She didn't answer. "Darling?"

"It's nothing; I just got emotional during an autopsy and was sent home," Molly sighed. She looked exhausted down to her bones. "It was a child; two years old. Kidnapping and homicide." Sherlock wrapped his arms around her from behind and leaned into her.

"Is there anything I can do?" he spoke quietly.

"Just hold me for a bit," she replied, turning to face him and burying her face in his chest. Sherlock held her tight to him as she cried until she could no longer. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her into the sitting room and laid her down on the sofa, covering her up with the blanket that draped over the back of it.

"I'll be right back; I'm just going to make you a cup of tea," Sherlock told her. She gave him a small smile as he padded his way into the kitchen.

When he returned, she sat up and took the warm cup in her hands. Sherlock seated himself beside her and placed a hand on her lower back, tracing circles with his thumb to soothe her. He admitted to himself that he wasn't sure what to really say that could help; sometimes words aren't what's needed anyways. Just his presence alone seemed to be enough to calm her as she was nearly falling asleep in his arms. He gently pried the cup from her hand and set it down on the table.

"What was that you were working on?" Molly asked, nodding at the Stradivarius.

"A lullaby for Rosie; it's not finished yet," Sherlock replied.

"Can I hear it?" she questioned. He simply smiled at her and stood to ready his violin and began to draw the bow across the strings. Molly settled back in her blanket and laid down as she listened to the beautiful composition. He played for her until she was soundly asleep, the day's exhaustion catching up to her.

Sherlock Holmes was not prepared for the onslaught that the weekend brought. John and Rosie had stopped by, which was the normal visitation he enjoyed. Mrs. Hudson prepared biscuits and brought them up. The part that caught him off-guard was Mycroft's arrival…with their parents.

"William, how come you never told us you were engaged!?" his mother scolded him. "We had to find out from your brother who only found out from CCTV cameras."

"Uncle Sherlock's in trouble now," John chuckled, looking at Rosie.

"Why haven't you told us, son?" Mr. Holmes questioned. "A simple phone call would have done."

"I was waiting to bring Molly with me for a visit," Sherlock defended himself.

"Now, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson began, "you've been engaged for two months and there was never any plans of a visit."

"It's been busy," he replied, desperately wishing Molly was here. She'd be home from work very soon but it wasn't soon enough.

When she did arrive, it couldn't have been more awkward, as she did not realize there were any visitors.

"Alright, detective boy, there's a body that needs to be examined in the bed—" her eyes widened as she noticed his parents smiling gleefully at her. Did she just say that in front of them? Her cheeks flushed bright red. John and Mycroft's mouths were agape; one in amusement, the other in horror. Sherlock was the first to break the silence, unable to keep from laughing at Molly's faux pas.

"Aunt Mowwy!" Rosie exclaimed. Molly put her bag down and quickly went over to lift her goddaughter in her arms.

"Well, hello there," she greeted the Holmes parents.

"Hello, my dear," Mr. Holmes smiled.

"We were just grilling Sherlock as to why he never told us you two were engaged," Mrs. Holmes informed her.

"You never told them!?" Molly glared at her fiancé.

"W-well, I was going to," he said weakly.

"When? On our wedding day?" she asked.

"Okay, I know this is a bit not good," Sherlock admitted.

"Brother mine, it seems that you are, as they say, 'in the doghouse,'" Mycroft smirked.

The evening continued in celebration of their engagement at his parents' behest. When everyone left, she and Sherlock welcomed the silence. He found her in the bedroom, changing into pajamas.

"Detective boy?" he laughed.

"Shut up," Molly threw her shirt at him, leaving her clad in only a bra and trousers.

"Are you mad at me?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"No," she sighed. "I mean, I was, at first, but it's not anything to really have a row over." He walked over to her and settled his chin on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he told her, kissing her cheek. Molly brought her hand up to rest in his hair, keeping him close to her.

"It's okay," Molly said softly before turning her head to give him a chaste kiss. "Could you hand me my bag?" Sherlock stepped away from her and handed it over just as she adjusted her tank top. She dug through it and pulled out a brown mahogany leather journal with the initial 'S' embossed on the bottom right corner. She held it out to him.

"What's this?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, I was out doing a little shopping on my lunch break and when I saw it, I thought you might like it to keep track of your experiments in," Molly told him. "At least that way, you won't have a pile of papers spilling out from random places."

"Did I miss an occasion?" he inquired, slipping the journal from her hand and into his.

"No," she laughed. "You don't need an occasion to buy a gift for someone."

"Oh," he replied like a child who learned something new. "Well, thank you, Molly. This is very considerate of you."

"You're welcome," she smiled.

"Though, I am afraid those pajamas are just going to have to go," he told her. "How am I supposed to examine you?"

"It's gonna cost ya," Molly teased.

"Mm, what do you require?" he asked.

"One kiss per item of clothing," she answered.

In the middle of the night, Sherlock pulled Molly to him as she slept. He nuzzled his face against her hair covering the back of her neck. It had been a while since they laughed so much together during a night of making love. He silently thanked the God who he didn't quite believe in for the woman he loved who now lay in his arms.

Author's Note: How was that awkward entrance for Molly? ahaha!