(*full chapter title ...)

*So ... This Is It Then, The Big Day

This chapter includes the rather important scene missing from Chapter 17 ...

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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."

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Behind the stone wall, atop a gently rising hill, stood St. Matthew's Church. The church, with a history stretching back more than eight hundred fifty years, was constructed of local honey-colored stone and had an imposing bell tower and beautiful stained-glass windows of various shapes and sizes.

Sherlock stepped aside as Siger followed him out of the car and turned back to assist Violet. Sherlock tapped on the driver's window and beckoned Walter to get out, then shut the passenger door behind his mother and shepherded his parents up the walk. Violet hesitated, looking over her shoulder. "What about Mycroft and Molly?"

"Don't worry about them," Sherlock said, urging Violet forward with a hand on her back. "They'll be right behind us."

Once the others were on their way, Mycroft slid forward on the car seat and reached to take Molly's hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. Several seconds passed as they silently studied each other, then Mycroft slid closer until their knees touched and lifted the back of her hand to his lips. "You look glorious, Molly, and I'd have you right here, right now, if it wouldn't mess up your dress." His lips quirked when Molly snorted, easing the tension between them.

"And I'd let you if everyone else would temporarily disappear." Molly slowly smiled and raised a hand to run her fingertips along her necklace, "Thank you for my beautiful pearls." She'd found the case between the folds of her slip when she returned to their room after her shower.

"You're welcome." He kissed her hand again, then placed it gently on her lap. "Are you ready?"

"Definitely."

Mycroft checked the road, then pushed the car door open and got out, taking Molly's hand as she followed him. He looked at Walter over the roof of the car and then past him with a narrowed gaze. Molly's eyes followed the direction of his, and she saw a man in a dark suit standing at the corner of the church before he turned away and disappeared around the side of the building. Mycroft offered his arm to Molly, steadying her as they crossed the grass verge and started up the walkway.

"Was that Andrew from Edinburgh?"

Mycroft quickly glanced down at her. "Molly –"

She looked behind them and saw Walter following at a discreet distance. "Is Walter coming in?"

Mycroft stopped, and Molly looked again at Walter, who'd also come to a stop. "No, my dear, but he'll be fine."

Something about the alert manner in which the driver was standing bothered her. "Mycroft, is Walter your bodyguard?"

"Molly –"

"Is he armed?"

Mycroft met her eyes, then calmly replied. "I don't want you to be concerned about this, my dear, but there are certain security precautions taken when I'm in an unsecured public location. As for Walter, his primary responsibility is to be my driver."

Molly knew that was a partial answer at best, but dropped the subject with a smile. "We better go. Your parents will be wondering what's keeping us."

When they walked under the porch and passed into the church, they saw Sherlock standing at the front of the nave with his parents and a young man in a suit. Molly went to join them, while Mycroft veered left through the west gallery and toward the vestry office.

"There you are, dear," Violet said, putting a hand on Molly's back. "This is Robert Williamson, the church's music director and organist." She looked behind Molly. "Where's Mycroft?"

"He had to take a call, but he'll be back shortly."

"We need to get started," Sherlock said. "Robert?"

"Right." Robert looked at Violet. "I hope you enjoy the music, Mrs. Holmes. Sherlock said the selections I'll be playing are some of your favorites." He started to walk off then turned around. "Happy birthday, Mrs. Holmes."

"Thank you, Mr. Williamson -"

"Yes, yes, let's get on with it," Sherlock interrupted impatiently, waving his parents toward the front pew. "Come on, Molly."

"Sherlock," Siger said, sternly.

"What?" Sherlock blinked several times, looking from his father to his mother. "It's already 4:30. We need to keep to the schedule."

"It's all right, dear." Violet patted Sherlock's arm. "Thank you for arranging such a special treat for me." She sat on the pew, with Siger taking his place on her right and Molly sitting on her left. Sherlock checked his watch and sat by Molly, just as the joyous notes of Handel's Arrival of the Queen of Sheba rang out. Before the final notes had faded, Violet started clapping enthusiastically and Siger and Molly joined in. Molly supposed clapping was appropriate since the organist was performing a concert rather than for a church service, so she elbowed Sherlock, who rolled his eyes at her, but clapped several times in response.

As the next piece in what was to be a Handel-heavy program started, Mycroft strode up the aisle and flicked his hand at Sherlock to move over, then settled on the pew beside Molly and crossed his legs, which drew Molly's attention to them. She ran her eyes from the tip of his shiny black brogues to his beloved face, then carefully tucked her fingers between his elbow and ribs and slid her hand through the gap to rest against his forearm. Mycroft turned to look at her and they gazed steadily at each other while Molly rubbed her fingers over the finely woven wool of his jacket. Just that quickly, she felt breathless again, as her core warmed and spread heat throughout her body. She saw an answering spark light Mycroft's eyes and knew her face was flushing. The tension between them broke when the others started clapping and Molly quickly withdrew her hand to join in.

The Hornpipe was followed by more selections from Handel's Water Music and Fireworks, each meeting with Violet's obvious approval.

Just after five o'clock, they all looked up when a dark-haired woman dressed in vestments came up the aisle, followed by a blond man dressed in a suit. The Menuet finished just as the couple came to a stop in front of the group. "Happy birthday, Mrs. Holmes," she said, offering Violet her hand. Violet, wide-eyed, stood to shake the rector's hand as the others rose. "I hope you're enjoying the music."

"Thank you, Reverend Milner. It's been wonderful." Violet let go of the rector's hand. "But what are you and Mr. Milner doing here? Oh, I'm sorry – you know my husband, but these are my sons, Mycroft and Sherlock. And this is our friend, Molly Hooper."

"Yes, I've met your sons and Dr. Hooper," she said, shaking their hands.

Violet looked surprised. "You have?"

"This didn't just happen, Mummy," Sherlock said, rolling his eyes. "There were actually quite a lot of details to work out."

"What details? Why is Reverend Milner here?"

"Sherlock," Mycroft sighed, ignoring his mother's questions for the moment. He lowered his eyes to check his pocket watch, before snapping it closed. "I hate to appear as graceless as brother mine –" [giving Sherlock a hard look] "… but we do need to move things along."

"Yes, of course," Reverend Milner said. She raised a hand and the organist started playing Purcell's Trumpet Tune and Air as the rector turned and walked up the few steps into the chancel, followed by her husband. Mycroft took Molly's hand and followed after them, leaving Sherlock to urge his parents forward with a hand on each of their backs. The rector turned at the altar to face them, and Mycroft and Molly came to a stop in front of her. Mycroft took his mother's arm, guiding her to stand beside him, with his father on her other side. Sherlock went past them, ducked around a pillar on the left, and came back with a bouquet of creamy white roses, white freesias and lily grass that he handed to Molly before taking his place alongside her.

Violet drew a sharp breath, grabbed Siger's arm, and looked at Mycroft, eyes stretched wide. "What's going on, Mycroft?"

Mycroft kissed her on the cheek. "Molly and I hope you don't mind, but we decided your birthday would also be a good day to celebrate our future anniversaries -" He broke off when his mother's eyes immediately filled with tears. "Try not to cry, Mummy. You'll mess up your makeup and you've still got a party to go to." He grunted when Violet clutched him to her, then patted her back. "We can't get married until you let go of me."

Violet gave a watery chuckle, then pushed past Mycroft to hug Molly. "Molly dear, I can't believe this!" She moved on to kiss Sherlock's cheek, while behind her Siger squeezed Mycroft's shoulder and hugged Molly. The rector cleared her throat, and Sherlock said, "We really do have to move on, Mummy."

Reverend Milner raised a hand, the Holmes group moved back into their places, and she began the service with a welcoming blessing.

Molly had thought she'd be married in a registrar's office if the time ever came, and she had assumed that would be the case when Mycroft proposed. Although they'd both been christened, neither of them were at all religious. When they'd suddenly considered getting married in conjunction with Violet's birthday just a few days after Mycroft proposed, the idea of making the wedding a surprise for his parents quickly followed. Sherlock actually came up with the idea of a private organ recital as a cover story, which had the bonus of being something Violet would actually enjoy.

Four generations of the Holmes family, including Mycroft and Sherlock, had been christened at another church in the same diocese as St. Matthew's, but St. Matthew's was smaller and more conveniently situated near the venue for Violet's party. With no real connection to St. Matthew's, Mycroft and Molly would not have been able to marry there at such short notice, but St. Matthew's agreed to the rector from Violet and Siger's church performing the wedding service. Having both a special license and Mycroft's connections closed the deal, and it probably didn't hurt that he had made a significant donation to the church's roof fund. Sherlock's legwork had also been invaluable, which Mycroft knew he'd be reminded about for the rest of his life.

Mr. Milner did the only reading, Molly having chosen one from Song of Solomon: "Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave …."

Molly was unexpectedly happy with how things turned out as the service quickly moved on and she and Mycroft exchanged vows according to the traditional Anglican service - "to have and to hold … from this day forward … for better, for worse … to love and to cherish …." When Molly's turn came to take her vows, a tear fell to her cheek despite her best efforts to hold them back. Mycroft caught the drop with the pad of his thumb, which caused a choked sob to break from Violet, and Molly was hard-pressed not to echo it.

Molly knew it might be foolish, but she felt as if her parents were present and cheering her on. They'd never wanted her to be alone and now she would have a family again. When the truth of that hit her, she had to bite the inside of her cheek and abruptly took a stronger hold of Mycroft's hand. His brows twitched in a frown but relaxed again as Molly's eyes held his while she calmly repeated the words. She gave him a brief smile after completing her vows, then turned to face the altar as Reverend Milner moved on to the exchange of rings.

Mycroft and Molly had chosen their wedding bands during an afternoon in the private showroom of a Knightsbridge jeweler and then Mycroft had taken charge of them. The night before Molly left for The Cottage, Mycroft showed the bands to her and finally told her the secret of the ring he wore on his right hand. After their marriage, he would replace that ring with his new band, which had been modified to include a security chip. Molly's had received a similar security feature. The places where the rings had to be cut were cleverly concealed within the design of the engraving.

"… I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage … all that I am I give to you … all that I have I share with you …"

Less than thirty minutes after the start of the abbreviated service, Mycroft and Molly were proclaimed to be husband and wife and then led to a nearby table to sign the register, while the organist began softly playing a hymn that Molly recognized as Love Divine. Despite Mycroft's dislike of public displays, he and Molly had exchanged amused grins after their lips touched in the lightest of kisses. Sherlock had apparently been incapable of suppressing a disgusted snort, which was immediately followed by a muted "ow!" when Violet sharply elbowed him.

As soon as Mycroft and Molly signed the register, Violet pulled the groom down to kiss his cheek, while Siger hugged the bride. "I hope you're going to call me 'Dad' now, dear girl."

"Just try and stop me!" Molly hugged him again, before turning to Violet. "And Mummy." Molly then turned around and fixed her eyes on Sherlock, who raised both palms defensively. "Oh, yes, brother dear ... give me a hug." Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed, but pulled Molly to him for a brief embrace before turning away decisively. "Don't even think about it, Mycroft."

"I can assure you I wasn't, little brother." Mycroft walked over to the Milners, who had stepped back when the family members converged on each other. "Thank you again, Reverend Milner … Mr. Milner." He turned as the organist approached. "And thank you, Mr. Williamson, for helping us give our mother such a wonderful surprise," he paused, taking Molly's hand as she joined them, "… and for contributing so much to our wedding service. It may have been brief, but Molly and I are both very happy with the results."

Mycroft smiled at Molly, then turned back to the Milners as the organist walked away. "Unfortunately, we do need to get going or the guest of honor will be late for her birthday party," he said, shaking the others' hands. "Thanks again."

"Yes, thank so much," Molly said, also shaking their hands. "This has been truly lovely." She turned her head quickly toward the organ chamber as Handel's La Rejouissance began and the first of what would be eight bells tolled, then looked back at Mycroft, wide-eyed. The bell ringers must have been waiting in the bell tower the entire time.

As they turned to go, Molly caught sight of Andrew standing to the side at the back of the church, but he turned and went down the aisle toward the bell tower when their eyes met. Molly glanced up at Mycroft, but said nothing.

Mycroft and Molly left the church as the bells continued to ring out, announcing to the village that a special ceremony had taken place. When they stepped out from under the porch, Walter was standing just outside. "Congratulations, Mr. Holmes … Mrs. Holmes," he finished, grinning.

"Thank you, Walter," Mycroft said, "but she's still Molly Hooper -"

"I beg your pardon, Mister Holmes," Molly broke in, meeting Mycroft's eyes. "I am now Molly Hooper Holmes, no hyphen, and am happy to be so."

Mycroft looked back at Walter, with a brief smile. "I stand corrected, Walter. It appears your salutation was accurate."

They moved farther away from the door as Sherlock and his parents came out of the church. Sherlock immediately took off down the walkway, calling over his shoulder, "Would you all come on!"

Mycroft let go of Molly's arm and took his mother's, while Molly took his dad's, as they followed Sherlock to the car. The brothers again settled on the back-facing seats, leaving Molly to sit between Siger and Violet as Walter smoothly pulled away from the church. Molly gave Mycroft a wounded look for being so abandoned to his parents' questioning, but he deliberately ignored it and looked out the window, lips twitching.

Molly patiently answered all their questions – Violet's mostly, since Siger found it difficult to get a word in – concerning when Mycroft and Molly had become engaged, why they decided to get married so quickly, how they were able to get the arrangements done and so on. Sherlock interrupted Molly's explanation at one point, saying, "Really, Mummy … when one knows the Archbishop of Canterbury as Mycroft does, any obstructions put in the way tend to disappear."

Violet changed course from talking about the wedding to making broad hints about their hopes for grandchildren. Molly was relieved to see Walter was about to turn up the long drive to the Hall. As the car passed through the gates, Molly patted Violet's hand and said, "Who knows what will happen, but both of us are open to the possibility." Sherlock groaned at that, but said nothing.

Walter pulled up at the front portico just after 6:15 p.m., right on schedule. As the group went into the reception area, Mycroft told his parents about the two suites he'd reserved – one for them and one for Sherlock – as he and Molly planned to return to The Cottage for the night. "And don't worry, Mummy. We packed overnight bags for you and Dad with Molly's help so they should have everything you need. There's plenty of time for you to freshen up before the party and to check the bags for anything we might have missed."

Mycroft went to the reception desk to get the keys to the rooms and to make sure he wasn't needed for anything related to the party. The receptionist told him the guests were arriving early as anticipated and were being entertained. Walter came in with the bags and handed them off to a staff member who followed behind as the Hall's manager led the Holmes family up the stairs to the first floor.

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By 7:15, all the guests had been seated for dinner in the Hall's Great Drawing Room ….

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."

Molly gave Mycroft a wide smile, then turned a toned-down version on the Stephenses. "'Dr. Hooper' is just for work. I'm Molly Holmes when I'm with my family." Violet took Molly's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, which Molly returned.

At that point, the serving staff arrived en masse to begin serving dinner, and conversation ceased during the resulting commotion.

Less than an hour later, the pudding course had been delivered, accompanied by the popping of champagne corks around the room, and both food and drink were quickly consumed in large quantities.

Sherlock had left the table to consult with the band in the Long Hall. Violet was talking to Carolyn across the table but broke off at hearing the band start a cover of Alan Jackson's Good Time. Mycroft pushed his chair back and pulled his mother's out. "You're going to need your dancing boots, Mummy." She laughed in delight and hugged him as Sherlock walked up with boots in both hands. "Here you go." Violet sat back down and Mycroft bent to help her change her shoes, while Siger was changing his. Violet got up, grabbing Siger's hand, and called to the guests, "Come on, everyone. We've got a band waiting on us."

Mycroft, Molly and Sherlock stayed by their table until the room had mostly cleared, then discreetly returned the plugs to their ears. Mycroft sighed and took Molly's hand, "There's no getting out of it now. We might as well join the crowd."

The three of them went to the archway into the Long Hall, stopping to watch Violet as she encouraged people to get into lines. The activity and noise levels hit the roof as they all started dancing to Boot Scootin' Boogie, with many of the guests loudly singing along … including Violet and Siger.

Sherlock muttered out of the side of his mouth, "Before you decide to bring forth, remember you could end up with a country-music-loving, redneck wannabe. It's in the genes." He shuddered.

Molly just laughed and took Mycroft's arm. "Come on, let's sit down." There were groups of chairs placed around the edges of the dance floor. "Sherlock, you have responsibilities. Go!"

As each song finished, another started, and the dancing and laughter went on and on. Sherlock had succumbed quite quickly to Violet's urging him to dance, and Molly and Mycroft laughed at some of his antics but agreed Sherlock was a very good dancer.

Siger came over to urge them to join the dancing, and Molly returned to the dance floor with him. Mycroft wouldn't be budged on the matter and instead watched Molly dance with his father to – good lord – a country version of Footloose, a song even Mycroft knew from his younger years. Molly danced with Sherlock and several of his parents' friends, laughing and twirling until her skirt flew up and her lacy petticoat showed. She kept glancing at him and smiling, and he knew she wanted him to dance with her.

Then Molly started flirting with Mycroft.

The first time, she danced over to him and leaned down, swaying playfully from side to side, looking up at him under her brows, and singing along with the chorus, "If you drink don't drive, do the watermelon crawl." She then danced away, putting more hip action into it than was called for, he thought.

But the flirting really heated up with Country Girl, Shake It For Me. She came close to him and danced with a bit more down and dirty action, holding his eyes, and Mycroft actually understood some of the lyrics:

Ponytail and a pretty smile, rope me in from a country mile,

So come on over here and get in my arms

Spin me around this big ole barn,

Tangle me up like grandma's yarn …

Molly again danced away, looking at him over her shoulder, then went to stand with his parents as the song ended and everyone clapped. When the next song seemed to be one with a slower tempo, Mycroft gave in to the temptation of Molly and walked across the room. Violet's eyes widened and she said something to Molly, who quickly turned around. She laughed when Mycroft grabbed her hand and pulled her into a clear corner of the dance floor.

Mycroft drew her close against him and they started doing something like a Texas two-step. Molly looked up at him, wrinkling her nose, when the band started singing. "I can't believe that, of all the songs they've played, Mycroft Holmes chose to dance to Achy Breaky Heart. You would never live it down if that got out."

They continued dancing closely together while most of the other guests, including Sherlock, performed a line dance. Once the song was over, they left the Long Hall, removed their ear plugs, and headed for the door to the courtyard.

As they stepped outside, Molly shivered at the coolness of the evening air. Mycroft noticed and slid his jacket off, swinging it over her shoulders. Molly pulled the sides closer around her and lowered her face to breathe in … Mycroft. They strolled around the circular walk along the edge of the courtyard, their way being softly illuminated by up-lights and fairy lights, then stopped on the far side of the courtyard and sat on a conveniently placed bench. The lighting wasn't strong enough to keep them from seeing all the stars in the clear, midnight blue sky. The weather was perfect and the scene was set for romance, but Molly had no illusions that Mycroft would take advantage of it in such a semi-public place.

After enjoying the relative peace for a while, Mycroft cocked his head, eyeing the full skirt of Molly's dress. She noticed the direction of his gaze and glanced down at herself, then looked at him curiously. "What is it?"

He gave her a brief smile. "I like that dress on you and the way the skirt, ah, swishes."

Molly's eyes widened. "You never seem to notice what I wear."

"I notice," he said, slipping his arm around her, "but it only matters to me when it matters to you."

"Mycro –" Molly's surprised whisper was cut off as he kissed her. The jacket fell away as she lifted her arms to encircle his shoulders. When they finally pulled back, Molly rested her head against Mycroft's chest and he tucked his jacket around her.

"The party is a great success," she said. "Your parents are having so much fun."

"As is Sherlock," he said, dryly. "He'll never admit it, but he was actually enjoying the line dancing."

Molly laughed. "I know, but let's not tease him about it." She looked up at him. "Really, Mycroft. I know you two like to have a go at each other, but please let this one go. I'm really happy that he's actually having fun with your parents." She grinned. "However, if Sherlock tries to use the Achy Breaky Heart thing against you, feel free to do your worst."

Mycroft pulled her closer. "I think it's late enough that we could leave without anyone but Sherlock protesting."

"Let's do it."

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Even Sherlock didn't protest when Mycroft and Molly said they were leaving. He did make a rather rude comment behind their parents' back about not needing to worry about the thin walls at The Cottage. Mycroft ignored him, but Molly blushed.

The trip home took forty-five minutes, and Molly was in a light doze by the time Walter turned up the drive. Mycroft helped Molly out, then waited while Walter turned the car around and left. He was returning to the Hall and would bring the others home the next morning.

They let themselves into the dark house, flipped on the hall light, and closed the door. They each drew a deep breath before turning to look at the other.

"So … what are we going to do now, all alone in your parents' house while they're away," Molly said, twisting a button on his waistcoat.

"I'm not supposed to have girls in my bedroom … house rules," he said, seriously, then smiled and pulled her closer. "Wife."

"Husband." Molly lifted on her toes and kissed his chin before moving up to his lips. She wrapped both hands around his head, lifting herself higher as they deepened the kiss, and then abruptly broke away with a gasp. "Take me to bed, Mycroft. I can't wait any longer."

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Molly shivered when Mycroft pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades before slowly lowering the zipper of her dress. "Lift your arms, darling," he whispered beside her ear, and a quiver went through her as she complied. He took hold of the hem and slowly lifted the dress over her head, then shook it out, crossed the room to the wardrobe and carefully placed the dress on a hanger. She stood, unmoving, as he returned to stand behind her, slipped his hands under the waist of her petticoat, and slowly pulled it down her legs, then waited for her to step out. He folded and placed it on a chair, then turned back to her again. There was a pause during which she wondered what he was thinking, but her own thoughts scrambled when he slid his hands around to cup her breasts while kissing the right side of her throat.

"Oh god, Mycroft –"

"Hmmm …" He let go of her breasts and slid his hands over her stomach and hips to the hem of her slip and oh-so-slowly pulled it up her body. Her breath quickened as she felt the drag of the bunched-up silk over every inch from thigh to chest before he pulled the slip over her head and tossed it onto the chair. Several seconds passed when nothing more happened. Molly started trembling as she stood in her bra, knickers, garter belt, stockings and heels and thought she'd combust if he placed a single finger on her. She heard rustling sounds and wondered what Mycroft was doing, but kept her back to him.

Finally … at last … he pressed himself against her back, kissing the left side of her neck as he slid his hands over her stomach and pulled her more tightly to him. His forearms were bare, and, from the feel of him, Molly could tell he'd undressed down to his vest and trousers. She could also feel his erection pressing against her.

"Mycroft …"

"Hmmm?"

"When you were a teenager, did you ever fantasize about having a girl in your bedroom?"

He lifted his head. "I've never been prone to fantasizing about sex, Molly."

"Oh, come on. Surely when you were going through puberty …."

"Well …."

"Tell me." Molly twisted around and took hold of his arms. "Here we are, in the bedroom you had as a boy … tell me."

Mycroft studied her face, frowning. "Why do you care about that now?"

She cocked her head, widening her eyes. "Mycroft … we're alone in your parents' house. There's no one to see or hear anything. For once, I'd like to fulfill a fantasy of yours, since you've been so good about satisfying mine."

"I really don't remember having any particular fantasies, Molly. I suppose I may have thought about what a girl would actually feel and look like in the flesh and how it would feel to have sex."

Molly stepped back and waved her hand down her body. "Do you like the way I look dressed like this?"

Mycroft ran his eyes down to her heels and back up, causing another quiver to race through her. "I do, but I don't need to see you in fancy lingerie to want you, my dear."

"That's good, but not exactly the point. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Mycroft sat on the edge of the bed as Molly left the room and wondered what he'd done wrong. He'd thought she was as eager as he was to make love and now she'd gone off on some strange tangent. He straightened when Molly returned and pushed the door shut, then leaned against it.

"All right, Mycroft. How about we do this my way and you take over if the spirit moves you." Molly walked across the room and stood in front of him. Mycroft could tell she'd removed her makeup and washed her face but otherwise she looked the same. He flinched in surprise when she suddenly lifted her right foot and placed her heel on the edge of the bed beside him. "Would you help me with my stocking?"

Mycroft ran his eyes down her body again and studied her leg. If Molly wanted to play the seductress, he wasn't going to stop her. He took hold of her foot and carefully lifted it far enough to remove her shoe, then tossed it onto the floor. He ran his eyes up her leg to the top of her thigh and followed the same track with both hands. Molly gasped as his fingers ran up her leg and he unclipped the stocking at the back and then slid around to unclip it from the front suspender. He carefully rolled the stocking down her thigh, over her knee and off her foot before tossing it onto the floor by her shoe. He then dropped his hands to his thighs and waited for her next move.

Molly wobbled a bit and braced a hand on his shoulder as she raised her left foot to the edge of the bed. She straightened as Mycroft took her foot in his hand and carefully removed the shoe before running his hands up her leg. She bit her lip as he unclipped the stocking back and front and rolled it down and over her foot. When the left shoe and stocking joined the others on the floor, he sat back again, waiting.

Molly lifted her brows. "And the rest of it?"

Mycroft lowered his eyes to study the garter/knickers arrangement before rolling her knickers over her hips and letting them drop to the floor. He then hooked a finger under the garter belt on each side of her hips, dragged it down and let it fall to the floor. Molly stepped out of both garments and kicked them aside. She leaned closer and Mycroft slipped his hands along her sides, unclipped her bra and then gently pulled the straps off her shoulders and down her arms before tossing it onto the floor.

Molly straightened, shoulders pulled back, slid her hand up her right thigh, and then cocked that hip. Tilting her head to the side, she whispered, "So what do you feel like doing now?"

Molly laughed when he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her onto the center of the bed. Before she could say anything, he crawled onto the bed and straddled her hips, pulling his vest over his head. Molly unbuttoned his trousers and ran her hand down the fly, molding her fingers around his straining flesh. He groaned and grabbed her hand to pull it away, then rolled onto the bed to push his trousers and pants down and kick them off his feet. He started to sit up, but Molly quickly crawled on top of him, knees straddling his waist. In response, he threaded their fingers together and held her away from him. "You said for me to take over if the spirit moved me. It has and I am."

He tugged her toward him, then rolled over, taking a deep breath before clamping his mouth on hers, tongue pressing deep. He pulled away and edged backward to the foot of the bed before sliding over and taking hold of her feet. Molly lifted her head to look down her body at him. "What are you doing?"

"I told you … taking over."

He sat back on his heels and pressed the bottoms of her feet against his chest. Molly rubbed her toes through his chest hair, waiting for his next move. "Do you have any idea how wet I am?"

Mycroft drew a sharp breath at Molly saying that aloud. They didn't usually make sex talk and he was a little embarrassed to find it arousing. He lifted her feet off his chest and kissed one arch, then the other, and ran his hands up the backs of her calves, gently spreading her legs as he kissed his way to the back of one knee and then the other. He scooted forward between her legs, lowered himself onto his elbows, and then draped her lower legs over his shoulders. Molly's breathing got heavier when he took her thighs in his hands and kissed his way from her left knee to the crease at the top of her leg and then started over at her right knee and dragged his mouth up that thigh. Molly's breath caught when he slid his hands under her bottom and tilted her hips, then she exhaled with a guttural groan when he lowered his head and ran his tongue over her, before probing deeper.

Molly clutched at the sheet on either side of her head and arched her back, pressing her head hard into the pillow. "Oh god, Mycroft," she moaned, before crying out and clamping her thighs around his head as she rode the wave of her release. He ran his hands up and down the backs of her thighs, then spread her legs and lowered her feet to the bed. He sat up, rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth, then met her eyes. Molly flushed, still trying to catch her breath, but held her arms out to him. He crawled over her, carefully aligning their bodies, then dropped his head besides hers on the pillow and gently pressed his lips to her throat.

"Just give me a couple of minutes to recover," Molly said, kissing his forehead as she ran her hands down his back. She dragged the tips of her fingernails up his spine, and he shivered. She traced the same line downwards, then massaged the muscles around his tailbone, which caused him to go rigid.

"Molly –"

"You don't need to wait any longer," she said, smiling, as she wrapped her legs around his thighs and tilted her hips. "And don't hold back on my account."

Mycroft exhaled loudly and straightened his arms, then carefully positioned himself with one hand and pressed into her, groaning. He flexed his hips a couple of times and then did as Molly said and stopped holding back. She clutched at his shoulders as he settled into a hard, driving rhythm that pushed her farther up the bed. Molly let go of him and straightened her arms overhead to push against the headboard and hold herself in place. Their breaths quickened and Molly gasped loudly when Mycroft suddenly took hold of her knees and pressed them high and wide, changing the angle of his thrusts. He then slid his hand down her stomach and rubbed his thumb over her, and Molly cried out, digging her fingers into his back. Mycroft's strokes quickened further, then he came with a groan and briefly dropped onto her, before rolling them onto their sides. They lay facing each other, as their breathing slowed.

Molly finally drew a deep breath, held it and let it out slowly. She raised her hand and ran her fingers through Mycroft's hair. "You can have no idea of how much I've wanted you all day." She flushed a bit, then continued, "When your mother and I came downstairs after dressing, I wanted to drag you upstairs – or anywhere away from them – and jump your bones." She ran her forefinger around the edge of his ear. "The trip to the church was a kind of exquisite torture. There you were, not three feet away from me, and I couldn't have you, but I also knew I would have you later." She smiled wryly. "I really don't understand how the others didn't pick up on it."

"Oh, I think Sherlock did."

Molly flushed, recalling that moment. "Oh my god, you're right."

"Don't be embarrassed," he said, reaching for her hand. "I was experiencing the same thing, and, unlike you, had to worry about it showing."

Molly laughed. "Really?"

"Dear lord, yes." Mycroft rolled onto his back and sighed. "I think my parents had an idea of what was going on between us as well."

"Well, they would know," Molly said without thinking. When Mycroft scowled at that, she huffed. "Come on, you should be pleased to think your parents enjoy an active sex life at their age."

"Oh god, Molly … shut up."

Molly laughed and rolled to the other side of the bed to turn off the lamp. She then rolled back, pressed her head against his chest and slid her arm around his waist. Mycroft reached out to turn off the other lamp, then wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her closer. They were silent for a while as their eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Mycroft yawned, then glanced down at Molly. "Do you feel well and truly married now, Mrs. Holmes?"

"I do, Mr. Holmes," she replied sleepily.

They said nothing more before drifting off to sleep.