(*full chapter title ...)

*Might We Expect A Happy Announcement By The End Of The Week

#####

If Molly had learned only one thing during the moving process – or, more accurately, the moving-on process - it was that having a powerful man on her side was a major asset in getting things done ... like it or not.

Mycroft was determined to make everything as easy for her as possible. And occasionally, but only occasionally, Molly found herself just a teensy bit irritated by how easy he could make it. She had always taken care of herself and her business and was perfectly capable of continuing to do so.

But.

Mycroft loved her and she understood his desire to take care of her. She felt the same need to take care of him and wouldn't hesitate to do so at any opportunity that presented itself, whatever his reaction might be.

Molly loved him and would never cease to be grateful for how far he'd come for her - not grateful in the sense that a mighty Mycroft Holmes had deigned to bend down from lofty heights to bestow his favor on little Molly Hooper, but grateful that he'd chosen to change his life for her, to set aside his privacy and let her see him bare … free of his mask, his clothing, his armor, to trust her with those parts of him he'd been a stranger to, to take a chance on a different way of living, to accept her love, and to open his heart in return. She knew he hadn't been looking for a friend, a companion, a lover - that he'd never sought to have anyone in his life, that she hadn't won some sort of competition for his attentions. He would have remained content the way he was and most likely would never have questioned what he might have missed. Instead, he had deliberately chosen to go with her each step along the way … to keep letting her in, then a bit farther, and even farther still.

And now here they were, about to make their relationship more than a sometime thing. They were officially joining forces.

So Molly allowed Mycroft to help smooth her way, and Mycroft was wise enough to make sure she knew that he knew she didn't need it.

#####

The first week of May – the week after the Edinburgh trip - was filled with strategy sessions, as Molly thought of them.

Mrs. Collingwood visited the flat and helped Molly decide what to do with food, kitchen items, cleaning supplies, and other such household effects. They also took time to talk about some practical concerns Molly didn't want to bother Mycroft with … in particular, her hesitance to turn over certain personal responsibilities to the housekeeper, such as doing her laundry. Mrs. Collingwood had shown herself to be sensitive to Molly's feelings and, by the end of the visit, Molly was more relaxed about the quasi-employer/employee relationship that was being extended to her. From Mrs. Collingwood's point of view, she was glad Mycroft had offered some advice on how to handle the conversation with Molly as he'd been aware of Molly's need for reassurance and guidance in that area.

Mycroft spent Wednesday night of that week at Molly's flat so they could talk about details of the move. After walking around the flat, Mycroft told her she didn't need to give up anything, that there was room for it all, and that she could even empty one or more guest rooms and recreate her flat if she wanted. Once he said that, Molly thought knowing she didn't have to choose what to keep and what to discard would actually make it easier for her to give up things.

With the discussion being over so quickly, they went to bed early. Mycroft had slept at Molly's flat on a few other occasions, and his only complaint concerned the lumpiness of her mattress. But they made do … twice actually.

#####

Telling Mrs. Harrison about the move wasn't easy since the landlady had been kind and helpful to Molly over the past five years. Molly had given notice of non-renewal of the lease at the earliest opportunity but was surprised to learn by mid-May that a new tenant had already been found - someone who wanted to move in as soon as Molly was ready to vacate. Molly was elated by the timing, both for her and her landlady's benefit, but realized on further thought that the timing had been a bit too perfect. Some persistent questioning of Mycroft disclosed that he had indeed smoothed the way, but only to the extent of matching demand to supply – that he'd simply identified a new employee who was looking for digs in the flat's general area … et voila.

#####

Molly was relieved to set aside her concerns about the move, but others immediately rushed in to take their place.

"Mycroft …"

"Hmmm?"

"When I raised the issue of a child, I thought you'd have to be around him –"

"Or her."

"Him or her only at the weekends. Had you considered that –" She broke off when he gave her The Look. "Of course you did." He grunted when she crawled over him and folded her arms on his chest. "Well, was timing part of your considerations?"

Mycroft folded his arms under his head and stretched as best he could with her on top of him. Molly was distracted by the feel of his chest and stomach muscles stretching and contracting under her, then realized he'd said something. "What?"

"The timing is up to you, my dear."

Molly propped her chin on her folded arms. "Um, I'm due to have my period soon –"

"On the thirtieth."

"Um, right. If it's OK with you, I think I'll stop then."

"If that's what you want, it's fine with me."

Molly took a deep breath and released it. "I don't know how soon my hormones will get back to normal - maybe four to six weeks? - but I could start ovulating in a couple of weeks. It's different with everyone so my doctor really can't give me a good estimate." She stopped to rub her nose. "Sorry, you probably don't want to hear the gory details, but I need to know that you're ready for this. Assuming I can get pregnant, it could happen quickly or could take a year or longer. I have no idea."

"I'll be happy to do my part."

She snorted. "Yeah, well, you should also be aware that one of the potential side effects of coming off oral contraceptives is an increase in libido." He pursed his lips, considering that. "Uh-huh, and possibly moodiness and sleepiness and, ugh, bloating."

"Poor darling," he said, unfolding his arms to run his hands down her back.

Molly huffed, then dropped her knees to the bed on either side of his hips and sat up. "You should say that with more conviction." She stretched her arms overhead, yawning. "Sorry." His hands had curved around her bottom and his eyes … hmmm … were studying her breasts. "So, you want to get in some more practice?"

Five minutes later, Mycroft pressed deep, then deeper still, and Molly's laughter turned to moans.

#####

The following evening, Molly arrived at the flat after work and found Sherlock already waiting for her. She rolled her eyes but didn't say anything about Sherlock letting himself in.

"Molly, where are your magnets?"

"At Mycroft's. Sherlock –"

"And your kitten pillow?"

"Also at Mycroft's. Sherlock, come sit down."

Sherlock made another loop around Molly's sitting room, then threw himself into the chair, propped his feet on the edge of the coffee table, crossed his arms, and commenced staring at her.

Molly ignored him and looked back at her notebook, running her pen down the list. "If we're good to go on the venue, deejay and band, we need to get the paperwork completed and give them their deposits." She glanced up. "Are you paying attention?"

"Hmmm." Sherlock uncrossed his arms and draped his hands over the chair arms. "Boring."

Molly ground her teeth, then took a deep breath and let it go. "Sherlock, your mother's birthday is less than six weeks away, and we have to get these details finalized. In fact, you should be doing it considering the great job you did with John and Mary's wedding."

"I'd rather not."

"Then help me." Molly turned to the next page. "Your dad and Mycroft agree that Violet will enjoy the entertainment –"

"At least someone will."

"It's just for one evening. Suck it up." Molly rolled her eyes. "Having a, a –"

"I believe the hillbillies call it a hootenanny."

"Yes, thank you, Sherlock. Plenty of people enjoy folk music and line dancing."

"Yep. They're called hillbillies, Molly, or I believe 'hippies' may be proper if in California."

Molly laughed. "Oh, stop being so … you. Your parents enjoy American bluegrass, country and folk music just like millions of other people."

Sherlock snorted. "It's going to be awful. I may be sick."

"You better not be, Sherlock. I'm counting on you to serve as master of ceremonies."

Sherlock shot up and started pacing around the room. "Oh no you don't, Molly Hooper. You're not putting me in charge of this circus."

Molly sighed, again. "Sit down, Sherlock … here, beside me." She waited until he dropped gracelessly onto the sofa. "Come on, you know how happy Violet will be to have her gorgeous boy on the stage, impressing all her friends."

He made a rude noise. "Compliments don't work on me, Molly. I thought you'd have learned that by now."

"Since when? You've fallen for it quite often." Molly groaned at being drawn into squabbling with him. "We really need you, Sherlock. I can't do it and Mycroft won't do it."

"Can't do it."

"OK, he can't do it. If you'd just oversee the dinner and first hour of entertainment, the deejay can take over. We're booking him and the band for the entire night, so your parents and their friends can continue dancing as long as they hold out."

"Why can't we just have a quiet dinner in an excellent restaurant and go our separate ways after a suitable length of time …. I really am going to be sick."

"No. You're. Not." Molly rose, pushed Sherlock's legs aside, and stood in front of him. He stared up at her, definitely pouting. His eyes widened when she leaned over and braced her hands on the back of the sofa on either side of his shoulders. "Now listen to me, Sherlock," she hissed. "You are going to do this for your parents and for Mycroft … and to a lesser extent for me, for all those times you've made me go spare. Do you understand?"

Sherlock huffed and rolled his eyes. "There's no need to make such a song and dance of it."

Molly could do nothing but laugh.

#####

By the last week of May, almost everything, including Toby, had been moved to Mycroft's, and Molly stayed most nights at the house. She had chosen, however, to spend the last two nights alone in the flat, with nothing more than what clothes and toiletries she'd packed in her case and enough food for a few final meals. She came to the flat from work for the next-to-last time and wandered around the almost empty space. The new tenant had bought her sofa, chair and bed, so Molly did have somewhere to sit and sleep. She sat more than she slept as thoughts of where she'd come from and where she was going kept her awake.

Returning to the flat from work on the last night, a Friday, felt wrong. She wasn't where she was supposed to be. An hour later, Molly was in the back of a cab.

I'm on my way home! MH xxx

I'll be waiting for you. MH

#####

During the previous four weeks, Anthea had often been in contact with Molly, letting her know about changes in Mycroft's arrival times or passing on messages about move- or party-related details. They'd met for lunch during the first week of May and each of them found the other surprisingly good company. The next time they got together was by choice rather than need. Mycroft was aware of their burgeoning friendship and was generally in favor of it, if only because Anthea would have more concern for the security of a friend, thus extending the protective circle around Molly just that bit more.

As May turned to June, Mycroft realized at some level that Molly seemed to be testing his tolerance for the part of her that loved kitten pajamas, psychedelic pens, awful pop music, and - dear lord - bubblegum, which was actually not something she'd intentionally exposed to him, but he caught her blowing bubbles one afternoon when he came home earlier than expected.

Weeks before, Mycroft had simply rolled his eyes the morning he walked into the kitchen and found a dozen magnets on the refrigerator. Molly obviously favored cuteness for such a decorative touch – puppies, kittens, cupcakes … a bear, a smiley face, a heart, a frog.

Two nights after she officially moved in, he bit his tongue when she handed him a late-night cup of tea in a Garfield mug. He noticed the smirk she tried to hide and figured not reacting was his best revenge.

But none of that really mattered to him. It was all part of what made Molly Molly.

The very next day, however, he had to put his foot down.

Anthea was focused on her computer, fingers flying over the keys, but smiled and swiveled her chair when she heard Mycroft's door open. The smile wavered when her eyes met Mycroft's narrowed stare and slowly lowered to his accusing finger.

"Do you have an explanation for this?"

Well, Anthea thought, his finger wasn't actually pointing at her in accusation, but was extended because of what was dangling off of it - or more accurately adhering to it. Her eyes were riveted to the offending (hot pink) sticky note attached to Mycroft's forefinger. She could see the Hello Kitty logo from her desk and didn't need to get any closer to know what the handwritten message said. Anthea raised her eyes to Mycroft's, a singular act of bravery, and smiled tentatively. "Sweet, isn't it, sir." He just stared at her, waiting. "I had lunch with Molly and she … gave me a mission."

Mycroft finally lowered his hand. "You can report back 'mission accomplished' this time, but no more freelance assignments."

"Understood." She stood up. "Shall I take that, sir?"

"Certainly not. It's evidence."

Anthea took a few moments to collect herself before returning to her report. She hadn't imagined the gleam that lit Mycroft's eyes before he turned back into his office. In a further outbreak of insanity, she briefly considered texting Molly, but decided her new friend was on her own for this one.

Back in his office, Mycroft looked again at the hand-printed message he'd found stuck to his computer screen and knew he needed to nip such frivolities in the bud.

- MH, I LOVE YOU! MH xoxox

He carefully folded the note and slipped it between some blank pages of his notebook before returning it to his jacket pocket.

#####

That night, Mycroft did indeed ask Molly, for security purposes, to cease and desist with any further attempt to bring his personal life into the office.

The next morning, Molly found the note carefully taped to his dressing room mirror.

The fact that Mycroft had kept the note warmed her heart. The fact that he now had a Hello Kitty image posted in his dressing room caused bursts of laughter at unexpected moments all day.

#####

It was quiet in the sitting room the next Sunday morning other than the occasional rustling of newspaper pages or scornful snort from Mycroft in response to something he'd read. Molly's feet were tucked under his thigh and from time to time she'd rub a toe against him or he'd brush a finger over her ankle.

"It may be considered old-fashioned these days, my dear, but if two people are in a stable relationship and decide to have a child together and plan to stay together as a family unit, I think marriage ought to be a consideration."

Molly lowered her newspaper and stared at Mycroft at the other end of the sofa – well, stared at his newspaper since he hadn't even dropped the corner to look at her. Was he making conversation? Making a suggestion? Proposing? 'Family unit'? She raised her paper again. "Uh-huh."

Ten minutes later, Molly flinched when Mycroft's hand brushed over her arch. She lowered the paper again and watched as he took her foot in his hand and wiggled it. "Well?"

"Oh! Our walk … sorry." She slid her feet off the sofa and sat up, then bent over to put her shoes on. "I just need to run upstairs for a minute."

They'd been standing awhile at the top of Primrose Hill - the usual turnaround point for their Sunday walks - looking at the view, when Mycroft cleared his throat. "You didn't answer me earlier."

Molly cocked her head at him, forehead furrowed. "Did you ask me a question?"

His brows twitched. "The marriage thing?"

"Oh." Molly bent down to tighten her shoe laces. "I don't disagree with anything you said." She stood and started downhill, looking at him over her shoulder. "Aren't you ready to go back?" He heard him huff in annoyance behind her and grinned. She thought she knew where he was going with this but she wouldn't do it for him.

That evening, Molly was standing in front of the open refrigerator door, trying to decide what she wanted for supper, when she heard Mycroft come up behind her. "What would you like to eat tonight?"

"I don't care." He slid his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Molly …"

"Hmmm?"

"Molly …," he repeated, more insistently.

"What."

He let go and stepped away from her, opening the refrigerator door wider. "Maybe a roast beef sandwich." He took out the meat platter, lettuce and jar of horseradish and set them down, then went to the pantry for bread and an onion and tomato. "Do you want me to fix you one?"

"All right, but no horseradish." Molly brought the mustard to the table and pulled out a stool. She watched as Mycroft washed his hands, then gathered some plates and cutlery before returning to the table. "What do you want to drink?"

"I think there's a Newcastle's in the door."

Molly went back to the refrigerator and returned with his ale and a pitcher of lemonade, then collected a couple of glasses before sitting at the table again. He asked her how much mustard she wanted, but otherwise didn't ask for her input. Molly was completely charmed by this domestic Mycroft. It might just be a sandwich, but it was a sandwich made by Mycroft Bloody Holmes, who could make grown men shake in their shoes with just a glance.

About halfway through supper, Molly looked up in surprise when Mycroft set his glass down harder than necessary and frowned at her. "Well? Are you going to marry me or not."

Molly carefully placed the rest of her sandwich on her plate and steadied herself on the stool, hearing the rush of blood in her ears. "As far as I can recall, you haven't asked me."

Mycroft's face went blank as he blinked slowly … once, twice … and then he was back with her. He sat forward, held out a hand for hers, then threaded their fingers together and took a deep breath. "Molly Hooper, would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Molly's eyes glistened a bit, but she held back any tears. "Mycroft Holmes, would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Mycroft gave a bark of laughter, then returned her smile. He let go of her hand and picked up his sandwich. "Well, all right then."

Molly rolled her eyes. "You idiot."

#####

Several hours later, Molly twisted a hank of Mycroft's hair between her fingers and slowly tightened her grip. "Mycroft …"

He nibbled an inch farther up the inside of her thigh, then raised his head when he felt the tug of her fingers. "That's starting to hurt, my dear."

"Oops! Sorry," she said, releasing his hair, "but I wanted your attention."

Molly blushed when he lowered his eyes, then looked back up at her and arched his brows. "I can assure you that you had my full attention."

"Oh god," she said, grabbing his pillow and pulling it over her face. "Carry on."

#####

The next morning, Anthea briefly lifted her fingers from the keyboard when the outside door abruptly opened …

"Anthea."

"Sherlock."

… then continued typing as Sherlock breezed through Mycroft's door without knocking. At least he was expected this time.

#####

"For once, brother mine, would you please focus on the matter at hand and stop with this petty arguing. Mummy's party is less than three weeks away. If we're to get everything arranged in time, I need your help."

"You admit you can't do it without me."

"Yes, Sherlock," Mycroft sighed wearily, "I cannot do it without you, and time is of the essence."

Sherlock straightened in his chair and took out a notebook. "All right … battle stations."

#####

Mycroft's parents came to town the third weekend of June for some shopping and an afternoon matinee. Molly took Mycroft's place at a West End musical on Saturday, an arrangement enjoyed by all three of them – and even more so by the one whose ticket she used. Mycroft considered getting out of that torture yet another unexpected advantage to having Molly in his life.

Molly and Violet hit the shops for new party dresses. As they flipped through the racks, Violet tried to weasel more details out of Molly as all she knew were the location, date and time. "Am I going to enjoy the party, Molly? After all, the boys did have a hand in arranging it."

"Don't worry. I kept them in line, and I believe the party will be very much to your taste."

Violet gave Molly a swift hug and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Molly."

When the older couple left Monday morning, they were still in the dark about the younger pair's engagement.

#####

Mycroft was stuck in a seemingly interminable Cabinet meeting the Thursday morning before Party Weekend and found his thoughts drifting to his brother. He wasn't unsympathetic to the demons that drove Sherlock to shoot holes in Mrs. Hudson's wall. Mycroft's boredom, however, could not be relieved so easily. He frowned without realizing it. The other attendees glanced at each other, wondering what the Minister for Transport had said that so displeased Mycroft Holmes.

At that moment, Mycroft felt his phone vibrate. Only five people were coded to bypass his do not disturb setting. He slipped the phone out of his pocket and briefly glanced at the screen. All eyes were fixed on Mycroft and each attendee hoped, after seeing the quick upward flick of his right eyebrow, that whatever crisis had just occurred, it wouldn't affect their departments.

Mycroft stood, "Excuse me for a moment, ladies, gentlemen," and once outside the Cabinet room, walked a short way to a small alcove where he took out his phone. Less than a minute later, his phone vibrated again. He tapped another short message, then slid the phone into his pocket and walked back to the meeting room. He took his seat, crossed his legs, and turned his attention toward the Minister for Health, who had stopped talking when Mycroft came in. "Do continue, Minister."

A few miles away, Molly took her phone out of her labcoat pocket to read the texts again.

Every inch of your skin is a holy grail I've got to find. MH xxx

That's nice, dear. MH

Rolling my eyes here. MH xxx

Rolling mine back, dear. MH

She really did need to stop trying to seduce Mycroft with song lyrics. He didn't get the reference and must think the stress from the lead-up to Party Weekend was negatively affecting her brain.

As Mycroft's focus returned to the meeting, he admitted to himself that a break for a bit of frivolity, certainly if placed at the peak of boredom, could definitely be an advantage.

#####

Molly worked the early shift Friday and walked out of Bart's just after 3 p.m., greeting Walter with a big smile as he opened the car door for her with a flourish. He was grinning to himself when he settled back in the driver's seat, unconcerned that the break in his usual bland countenance was likely caught on CCTV.

"What's this, Walter?"

He glanced at Molly in the rearview mirror. "Mr. Holmes left it for you."

Molly ran her fingers down the long stem of the single white rose, then fingered the lace ribbon that was tied around it. She wasn't surprised that her phone rang in perfect timing.

"Thank you for my rose."

"Happy anniversary, Molly."

"I didn't think you remembered."

"How could I forget the first time you ravished me."

Molly chuckled. "I'm sorry I didn't give you anything."

"You seem to have forgotten this morning."

Molly flushed. "Oh, that."

"Hmm." Mycroft went on in a brisker tone. "Are you sure about driving to The Cottage on your own?"

"I really need to get down there to make sure everything's taken care of. Besides, I'm looking forward to spending the night on my own with your parents. It seems rather appropriate under the circumstances, don't you think?"

"Hmm. Well, be careful and call me as soon as you arrive."

Molly snorted. "I will, but I wonder which one of us will be letting you know first … me or my shadow."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"See you tomorrow."

"Battle stations."

Molly was smiling with she slid the phone into her pocket just as Walter slowed to turn through the gate.

#####

Once she was out of the most congested areas of London, Molly was thrilled at being on her way to Surrey. She lowered the window to let the fresh air toss her hair and laughed, almost overwhelmed by the pleasure of driving on her own and excitement for the weekend. When she finally swept up the long driveway and stopped alongside Violet's car, Molly was bursting to tell everyone in the vicinity how happy she was. She opened the car door and dropped her feet to the ground, then pulled out her phone.

"I'm here and I had a fantastic drive down!"

"Good."

"Hi, Siger! Sorry, Mycroft. Your dad's just coming."

"Tell them hello, and enjoy your visit. I'll be there by noon or earlier if Sherlock cooperates."

"I love you, Mycroft," she whispered as Siger neared the car, then finished louder. "See you tomorrow."

"Go have fun."

Molly slid the phone back in her pocket with one hand and returned Siger's hug with the other arm. They stood back, hand in hand, regarding each other affectionately.

"We're so glad you're here, Molly."

Molly knew he saw the tears well up before she hugged him again. She chuckled when he patted her shoulder a bit awkwardly, then looked up at him and stretched to kiss his cheek. "Don't mind me. I'm just happy to have a father figure in my life." She bit her lip.

"I'd be honored to serve in that capacity, darling girl," he said, then kissed her on the forehead. "Now, let's see about your bags."

Violet was waiting at the door. "What's taking so long? Get yourself over here, Molly."

Molly laughed when the older woman took the clothes bags from her and slung them over Siger's shoulder, then grabbed Molly in a fierce hug. "We've been counting the minutes until you arrived."

"I'm so glad to be here."

"Well, come in, come in. Siger, what are you waiting for? Put those things down."

Molly grinned at Violet's fussing, then went over to pick up the hanging clothes. "Could we hang these somewhere? It's my dress and Mycroft's suit so … wrinkles …"

"Of course, my dear. Siger, bring Molly's other bags." Violet led the way upstairs and down the hall to Mycroft's room. "Siger, put those bags on the bed. Here, Molly, give me those," she said, then hung the clothes bags in the wardrobe. "There." She looked around the room. "I hope you have everything you need."

Molly glanced at Siger and found him eyeing his wife appreciatively. Certain comments Sherlock and Mycroft had made in the past came back to her, and Molly had no trouble believing that sparks still flew between the elderly couple. Unlike their children, Molly wasn't embarrassed by the thought.

"Now, why don't you freshen up and come down to the kitchen. Supper's just about ready." Violet took Molly's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We really are happy to have you here."

Molly smiled and returned the squeeze. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

#####

"Where was this one taken?"

Violet leaned over to look at where Molly was pointing. "Oh, that was in the garden at Mycroft's – well, my parents' house. Mycroft was - let me think … four months old in that." Violet turned the page. "These were taken at the same time. Those are my parents," she looked at Molly, "but I guess you figured that out. My parents were thrilled with their first grandchild and doted on both of them."

Molly ran her finger over the photos, smiling at the infant Mycroft's dark quiff of hair. She turned the pages of the album slowly, studying each photo carefully. She pointed at one and turned to Violet. "His legs certainly haven't changed much since he was a child. They're still long, pale and beautifully shaped."

"He always was gangly, as was Sherlock. They took after their father."

The two women turned to study Siger, who glanced up from his book and raised his brows. Molly laughed and looked at Violet. "That expression is obviously something else Mycroft got from his dad."

Violet patted Molly's knee and stood up. "It's getting late and tomorrow is going to be a very busy day."

Siger stood as well and the two of them regarded Molly with such kindness that she couldn't stop from tearing up. "Oh lord, I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her dressing gown. "Mycroft has already bemoaned my tendency toward lachrymosity." She looked up at them, grinning. "My word for the day."

Molly set the photo album on the side table and followed them to the kitchen. She handed her teacup and saucer to Violet, who had opened the dishwasher and was adding detergent, while Siger checked the back door. Molly remembered going through such nighttime rituals with her parents when she was a teenager and felt a sharp pang of grief for their loss.

"Molly? Are you ready to go up?"

Molly blinked as she came back to the present and looked up at Siger. "Oh, yes." She turned and went ahead of them down the hall and up the stairs. She stopped when they reached the landing. "Thank you for a wonderful evening." She hugged Siger, then Violet. "I hope you both sleep well."

Violet tucked some stray hair behind Molly's ear. "You too, darling girl."

After a quick trip to the bathroom, Molly shut her bedroom door and leaned against it. One more day.

#####

As secretly planned, Siger and Molly were up before Violet to fix a special birthday breakfast for her.

When Violet came down the stairs, she was greeted by a large floral bouquet on the hall table and an even larger balloon bouquet tied to the bottom of the banister. She was fingering the multi-colored ribbons on the balloons when Siger and Molly started singing to her from the kitchen. She came into the room laughing as they finished the birthday song in perfect harmony. "Thank you, my darlings!"

Rather than using the more formal dining room, Siger and Molly had dressed up the kitchen table with a crisp white tablecloth, Violet's best china, and a bowl of gardenias. Molly had suggested making something different for breakfast, but Siger convinced her that Violet really did love a Full English Breakfast, so that's what they prepared. When Violet sat at the table, Molly went to get the birthday cards from the family members and then presented them to Violet like a waiter with a bottle of wine. "Your cards, madam."

They lingered over breakfast, getting to know each other a lot better. Molly answered their questions about her parents and her childhood and told them about her years at university and how she started working at Bart's and met Sherlock. She gave them an edited version of some of her Sherlock adventures and an even more edited version of how her intimate relationship with Mycroft started. She did accurately describe her first sighting of Mycroft in the lab and her dismissal of him as a cold fish and how he later "kidnapped" her.

By the time they got up, it was almost 10:30. Molly shooed the others out of the kitchen and did the breakfast cleanup herself. Siger and Violet went upstairs to get dressed since Mycroft and Sherlock would be arriving sooner than expected, possibly by 11:00. It was almost that time when Molly got dressed in jumper, jeans and trainers and went downstairs to the sitting room, where Siger and Violet were sitting on the sofa, reading the newspaper.

When they both looked at her over the top of their reading glasses, Molly grinned and dropped into the chair across from them. She found them totally adorable. "Has Mycroft or Sherlock told you that we need to be ready to leave by 4:00?"

"4:00?" Violet frowned. "I thought the party didn't start until 7:00."

"It doesn't, but Sherlock has arranged something for you on the way to the party and told me we have to be there no later than 4:30." Molly shrugged. "He's told me some of the details, but not everything. I was just happy that Sherlock made such an effort."

"Well, yes … I do appreciate Sherlock wanting to surprise me. We'll just have to be ready on time then." She sat up, tilting her head. "I think I hear the boys now."

Molly jumped up and hurried to the front door. Sherlock was just about to reach for the door handle when Molly swung the door open. He bowed to her, "Molls," and, surprisingly, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he brushed past her.

Molly felt her heart thump harder when Mycroft stopped on the doorstep, and they just stood there looking at each other until Molly turned her back against the door and let him brush past. She felt as if they hadn't seen each other for weeks and found it hard to catch her breath. Mycroft took her arm and pulled her far enough into the hall to shut the door, then glanced over his shoulder before setting his bag down and pulling her into his arms. He just held her to him, and Molly could feel his heart beating against her cheek. "I missed you," she whispered. She heard him swallow and wanted to drag him up the stairs, but knew it wasn't the right time for that. She took a deep breath and pulled away. "Your parents are eager to see you."

Mycroft pushed his bag to the side of the hall with his foot, then straightened his jacket and took her hand. "Better not keep them waiting any longer then."

#####

Molly went upstairs about 12:30 to get a bath and wash her hair. The others were having a light lunch, but she didn't want anything.

Twenty minutes later, Molly was standing under the shower, rinsing her hair, when Mycroft came in. She hadn't heard his knock and jumped when she saw his shadow through the shower door. She cracked it open and hissed, "What are you doing? Your parents are downstairs!"

He gave her The Look for stating something so obvious. "They're aware that I've seen you naked, Molly."

"But not when I know they know you're seeing me naked!" Molly shut the door and adjusted the spray. "Mycroft, leave!"

"We could conserve water if I joined you."

Molly cracked the door again. "Have you lost your mind? Leave!"

Mycroft smirked when she snapped the shower door shut. He hadn't had any intention of joining her in the shower. He just needed a booster dose of his Molly.

Mycroft almost ran over Sherlock when he came out of the bathroom. "Does Mummy know what you've been up to, brother dear?"

Mycroft just took hold of Sherlock's arm and turned him around. "Come on. We don't have much time." While Mycroft stood guard, Sherlock went into their parents' bedroom, being careful to avoid the floorboards that squeaked. Mycroft checked his pocket watch and hissed through the open door, "Hurry up."

Sherlock finally came out, carrying a pair of western boots in each hand. Their parents apparently couldn't line dance without their boots, and they couldn't tell Violet she needed hers without spoiling the surprise. Mycroft went downstairs to help his dad distract his mother while Sherlock went out the back door to hide the boots in the car.

Battle stations.

#####

Molly and Violet were getting dressed in Violet's bedroom, while the boys made do elsewhere. Violet finished dressing first and did a twirl in front of Molly. "What do you think?"

Her dress was of cornflower blue silk, with a sweetheart neckline, blouson-effect waist, and flared skirt, topped with a hip-length silk crepe jacket in a muted floral pattern in cornflower blue, faded rose and pale cream. Silvery threads caught the light as she spun around again. Her earrings were sapphire and diamond studs and her necklace was a twisted silver rope with a sapphire teardrop edged with tiny diamonds. The colors made her piercing blue eyes look even more striking than usual. Molly clapped her hands. "You are gorgeous, Violet!"

Violet went to stand behind Molly where she was seated at Violet's vanity table. "You look lovely, Molly."

Molly turned back to the mirror and quirked her lips. "Well, I can't let our side down. You know our boys are going to slay all the women at the party … and probably some of the men as well." She leaned forward and raised her brows to check her lashes. "What do you think? Another coat of mascara?"

"I actually think you look perfect as is," Violet straightened. "That color of lipstick really suits you."

"Lipstick is a bit of a sore subject." Molly rolled her eyes, then added at Violet's questioning look. "Never mind."

"Do you want me to help you get your dress over your hair?"

"Yes, please, but give me a minute." When Molly came back from the ensuite, she suddenly felt self-conscious walking across the room in her nude-colored slip, stockings and heels. They were real stockings held up by a lacy garter belt … which was actually hidden by her slip, but all Molly could think was that they screamed, "I'm going to have sex with your son!"

Molly blushed when her eyes met Violet's and the older woman said, "Mycroft is a lucky man." Violet smiled wickedly, which made Molly's blush intensify. "Oh, darling … don't be embarrassed. Your relationship makes me very happy. Come on, let's get you dressed."

They'd found Molly's dress in a vintage clothing shop. It was a sleeveless, silk crepe chiffon party dress from the 1950s in the lightest shade of peach, almost ivory. The empire bust had delicate pleats to gently cup Molly's breasts, the midriff and waist were closely fitted, and the skirt was full and swingy with an extra layer of chiffon on top. The back had a deep V-neck, and the skirt stopped just above Molly's knees.

Molly pulled on a short petticoat crinoline in white chiffon, then raised her arms for Violet to work the dress over the head, carefully spread it over the crinoline, then zip up the back. Molly turned in a circle, which caused the skirt to lift and swirl with a swishing noise. She laughed in delight when she saw the effect in the mirror. "Oh, I love that! It's like in the old movies." She twirled again. "Mycroft better be ready to dance with me today."

She stopped when Violet came to look over her shoulder. "Molly, you look a dream. Mycroft won't know what hit him. Now let's finish your hair."

Molly had curled her hair and lightly pinned the sides away from her face. She sat in front of the vanity mirror and, with Violet's help, carefully fitted a headband in place. It was covered with cream silk and had small buttercream roses attached to it. Once Molly released her hair from the pins, the effect was that of a tiara of roses and suitable for the vintage style of the dress. As a final touch, Molly slipped on pearl drop earrings and a single-strand pearl necklace.

"These pearls are lovely, Molly."

"They were a gift." Molly carefully swiveled on the vanity bench, then walked to the bed to pick up her cream-colored clutch. "Are you ready to go down?"

"Let's go wow them."

#####

Violet went slowly down the stairs, taking care in her heels, followed closely by Molly. They hesitated at the sitting room door, then went through together, smiling brightly. All three men stood, Siger and Mycroft automatically smiling and Sherlock looking a bit put-upon. Siger immediately crossed to Violet and took her hands in his, spreading her arms and complimenting her extravagantly.

Molly didn't hear what Siger said. Her smile faded and she had to bite her lip when she met Mycroft's eyes. He had stopped smiling when his eyes turned from his mother to Molly and his expression darkened. She realized she was twisting her skirt between her fingers and let go, but didn't know what to do. She looked at Sherlock, who glanced briefly at Mycroft, then looked back at Molly for a few moments, before rolling his eyes. He shifted closer to Mycroft and gave him a hard jab with his elbow. "For god's sake, Mycroft … go get her."

Molly's jaw dropped momentarily as she stared at Sherlock, then she pressed her lips together when she looked back at Mycroft. He started walking toward her and Molly took an involuntary step back when she got a better look at him. A jolt raced through her when she finally recognized the look in his eyes, and she raised a hand to hold him off when he came up to her. "So, um, what do you think?" She could feel his heart thumping under her palm and quickly glanced at his parents to see if they'd noticed anything. She was relieved that they still had eyes only for each other. "Doesn't your mother look beautiful, Mycroft?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Mycroft!"

He straightened abruptly, blinking quickly, then backed up a step and turned to his parents. "Yes … you look beautiful, Mummy." He walked over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "No one would believe you're 75."

Molly's eyes met Sherlock's, and he checked his watch, then clapped his hands. "Time to go. Come on, come on, we can't be late."

When they went out to the cars, Molly was surprised to see Walter standing by an extended version of Mycroft's usual car. He smiled, raised his eyebrows and nodded at her, and she went forward to greet him. "Good afternoon, Walter. I didn't know you were driving Mycroft and Sherlock down."

"Well, it's a special occasion, isn't it?"

She smiled slowly. "You only turn seventy-five once, that's true."

"Move it, Molly," Sherlock said rudely, stepping past her. "We've got to go."

Siger went around the car to get in on the other side. Mycroft assisted his mother into the car, then turned to take Molly's hand and help her step in. He followed and took the back-facing seat across from her while Sherlock came in from the other side, facing his dad. "Well, aren't we a happy bunch."

"Don't start, Sherlock," Violet said, automatically.

Molly turned her head to watch the passing scenery, but her every sense felt alert to Mycroft's tiniest movement, to his every breath. She felt jittery and was afraid the others would pick up on it. She'd never been so sexually aware of Mycroft over the whole of their year together and she was embarrassed by how inappropriate the timing was. She wondered if her natural hormones had suddenly kicked in and she was experiencing the increase in libido she'd read about. Whatever it was, she wanted to squirm on the seat to release some of the tension. She was afraid to look at Mycroft.

For his part, Mycroft was still processing the shock of having almost pulled Molly to the floor of his parents' sitting room, which would have been bad enough, but he'd almost done it in front of his parents and – possibly worse – Sherlock. He didn't know what had come over him other than Molly looked so luscious, like a ripe peach he wanted to bite into and lick the juice. God! He shifted in his seat and glanced at his parents.

"Stop it!"

Everyone turned to look at Sherlock, shocked at his yelling. "What's wrong, son?" Violet leaned over and put her hand on his knee. "What is it?"

Sherlock glanced quickly at Molly and Mycroft, then smiled at his mother, sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Mummy. I was thinking about a case and didn't realize I spoke out loud."

Molly's eyes briefly met Mycroft's before she turned toward the window, flushing. She heard Siger and Violet talking and even Sherlock making an occasional comment, so turned back resolutely and tried to take part in the conversation. Molly looked out the window again when Walter turned and drove over a rise before pulling to a stop on a grass verge alongside a gate in a stone wall.

Violet leaned down to look out the window, then looked from Sherlock, to Mycroft, to Molly. "What are we doing here?"

Sherlock pushed the door open. "I've arranged a special musical program for you, Mummy."

#####

When the guest of honor arrived at a quarter to seven, the Great Drawing Room was already filled with Violet's and Siger's friends and a few extended family members, and the resulting noise level made Sherlock and Mycroft wince. The crowd started clapping as people noticed Violet arrive. Sherlock stepped in the doorway to the adjoining Long Hall to signal the band, and a rousing version of Happy Birthday increased the brothers' auditory overload.

Sherlock came to stand by Mycroft, "We could leave now. They probably wouldn't notice."

"Shut up, Sherlock," Molly hissed.

"It's not like anyone can hear him, my dear."

Molly glanced up at Mycroft. "Don't you start as well."

"Honestly, Molly. How can anyone bear this level of noise?" Sherlock glanced around. "You'd think most of them would be deaf by now."

Molly cocked her head toward the door to the entry hall. "Come with me for a moment." She led the way out the door and looked around until she saw a quiet corner. She quickly walked over to it and turned to wait for Mycroft and Sherlock, who were looking at her curiously. Molly glanced around them to see if anyone was watching, then opened her clutch and handed each of them a tiny plastic bag.

"I hope it's good quality cocaine, Molly."

Mycroft snorted, but Molly looked scandalized. "Sherlock! How can you joke about that?"

Sherlock shrugged, then ripped into the bag. He looked up in delight and gave her a quick hug. "You're a genius! Well, not really, but this was pretty smart, Molly."

Mycroft huffed a laugh, then opened his package as well. "Thank you, my dear."

"Just don't let anyone see you." She glanced around them again. "Go ahead, but do it quickly."

A few minutes later, the three of them returned to the drawing room and Molly looked from one to the other. "Well?"

"Tolerable."

Molly had decided to do without the earplugs, afraid they'd show in her smaller ears, but when a loud crash of cymbals was added to the noise mix, she changed her mind. "Back in a sec."

They'd been lucky to locate the venue, a large privately owned estate in the countryside south of Guildford that offered the large drawing room, long hall and private courtyard and garden for large functions. The drawing room had been set up with fourteen round tables to seat ninety-seven guests for dinner and the great room, with its long polished floor, had been cleared for dancing. The band was set up at the end of the great room by the archway to the drawing room. A free bar was set up in the courtyard, which was lit with soft up-lights and fairy lights and had benches spaced around its edges.

Violet, with Siger trailing behind her, came up to hug each of her sons and Molly, loudly thanking them since "loud" was the only way they would have heard. "This is simply perfect, my darlings!"

Mycroft bent to kiss her cheek. "We're happy you approve, Mummy." He looked past her. "It looks like the staff are getting ready to serve dinner. We better find our seats."

Whether it was the thing to do or not, the Holmes family all sat at the same table, with the remaining two seats being filled by frequent traveling companions of Violet and Siger. "You've met Mycroft and Sherlock of course. Molly, let me introduce you to Mitchell and Carolyn Stephens."

"And who are you, Molly?"

Mycroft broke in before his mother could answer Carolyn. "This is Dr. Molly Hooper, a brilliant pathologist on staff at St. Bartholomew's Hospital in London," he turned to look down at her, "and I have the honor of being her husband."