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After Tom, Molly Hooper decided that it was best that she stop deluding herself about her feelings for Sherlock Holmes. He would probably never reciprocate her love for him, but she didn’t want to hurt anyone else the way she had hurt poor Meat Dagger, uh Tom. So it was with a heavy heart that Molly decided that casual dating would be it for her, that is until Sherlock loved her back (in which case hell would have frozen over) or until her feelings for the man were truly gone.
Of course, leave it to the great Sherlock Holmes to never follow a plan….
It had been five years since that whole Moriarty returning fiasco. Five years since she had been kidnapped by a madman just to be saved by another, arguably, madman.
Over the course of those five years, Molly and Sherlock had grown closer as friends. Molly now knew for certain that she was important to the consulting detective, and not just for her skills in the morgue. Not to be full of herself, but Molly figured she ranked as high as John and Mary on the friendship scale. Of course, she didn’t receive the same “playful” ribbing as John did, but she chalked that up to male bonding. Certainly John never received kisses to the cheek the way Sherlock would periodically bestow them on her and Mary.
One big change that Molly enjoyed immensely was that Sherlock had begun inviting her out for cases again. Whenever John was busy with Mary and the baby, or the case wasn’t big enough to warrant disturbing John at work, Molly was invited to play sidekick to Sherlock. She enjoyed watching Sherlock be brilliant, and she especially enjoyed catching the people that put bodies in her morgue. On his part, Sherlock seemed to enjoy having her expertise readily available, and he also seemed to enjoy sharing jokes with her about the sometimes insane situations they found themselves in.
Everything seemed to run along smoothly in Molly’s world. Between work, Sherlock, poor old Toby, and her other few friends, Molly was constantly busy and hardly ever felt lonely. She sometimes wished she could marry and settle down, but her feelings for Sherlock hadn’t dissipated over the years, and she still refused to string anyone else along.
The one big thing she did miss? Sex. Molly had not had sex in five long years. Even for her, a woman with few sexual partners, that was a long time. But she had managed to survive through lots of yoga and meditation, as well as copious amounts of manual self-stimulation to thoughts of Sherlock Holmes. Thoughts, which while privately kept, she refused to be embarrassed about.
She was in the middle of one of those thoughts while at Baker Street (not an ideal time), when Sherlock spoke. They were waiting on clients and Molly was bored to tears, hence her sexual thoughts, so she did not quite catch what the detective said. From the blank look on her face, Sherlock deduced that she hadn’t actually heard him and he rolled his eyes. Molly bristled. It certainly wasn’t her fault she was so bored that she took a little jaunt into her own mind palace to keep herself from withering away in John’s old chair. Of course, her mind palace was devoted solely to sexual thoughts of Sherlock Holmes.
"I said," Sherlock emphasized, causing Molly to roll her own eyes, “we should be getting married soon don’t you think?”
Though it took her only a few seconds to respond, in Molly’s mind it seemed forever as she struggled to parse what Sherlock meant. “What?”
Sherlock refrained from rolling his eyes again, but Molly saw the slight flicker of his eyelids as he struggled to do so. “Married, Dr. Hooper. You and me.”
Molly’s mind seemed to jumpstart at that moment, and it was none too soon, since the whole topic was starting to rattle her. “But why would we get married? We’re not together.”
A look of hurt flashed briefly across his face, but Sherlock quickly composed his features into his normal emotionless mask. Molly, who was staring intently at him though, caught the look and felt even more confused by the sudden turn of events.
"What did you think the last five years was about then?" He asked stiffly.
Sherlock’s face was still composed but she caught a hint of anxiousness in his eyes. And Molly, being the smart woman she was, was able to piece together the logic from what Sherlock was hinting at. “Are you telling me that the five years of me helping you to solve crimes was us dating?”
At her seemingly quick grasp of events, Sherlock relaxed slightly into his chair. “Well yes, ofcourse. Why else would I ask you to keep solving crimes with me when I could have easily availed myself of Wiggins or Lestrade, or even Anderson. John certainly wasn’t always busy everytime I’ve asked you to join me.”
Molly was brought up short by this statement. When she thought about it, there were times when John hadn’t been working and Sherlock could have sought him out. Certainly Mary didn’t mind as long as John came home periodically during a local case to spend time with his girls.
Molly shook her head. “Let me understand this. We’ve been dating for five years, without me knowing apparently, and now you want to get married.” Sherlock nodded. At this point the reality of the situation hit her full on and Molly’s temper, while rare, flared to life. “Why the hell weren’t we having sex then Sherlock Holmes?! I’ve never dated a man for years with no sex involved!”
At some point Molly had stood up and was towering over Sherlock’s form. He seemed as if he wanted to interrupt, but Molly continued to rant at him, her arms flailing wildly about. “My god, we could have been having sex! I could have been having sex! Is this why you scared off every guy that showed interest?! For five bloody years!”
Sherlock managed to push away from his chair, forcing Molly to take a couple of steps back, and stood before her. His mouth was twisted into a smirk and his eyes were alight with humor before his facial features shifted again and he gave her a haughty look of derision. “I was saving it for marriage Dr. Hooper. I’m not a heathen.”
Molly wavered in between wanting to strangle Sherlock with every fiber of her being and dragging him to the bedroom. She thought about the last five, dry years of her life and settled on sex. Because, you know, five years, and Sherlock was certainly fit. Molly reached out suddenly to grab Sherlock by the arm, and took pleasure in the slight flinch he was unable to suppress. ‘Serves him right,’ she thought to herself angrily.
As she began dragging him by the arm toward his room, Sherlock, being the confused puppy that he was in social matters, struggled a bit against Molly’s iron grip. He certainly knew how futile that struggle was, since the pathologist was deceptively strong for her small stature. “What are you doing Molly?”
Molly choked out a laugh and wicked sexual thoughts of Sherlock began to flash in her mind. “After five years of no sex, I refuse to marry you until I test the merchandise Sherlock.”
Molly was pulled to an abrupt stop outside of Sherlock’s open bedroom door. “So you will marry me?”
She turned back to look at her socially inept detective, and apparently her boyfriend. He had a look on his face that Molly could only describe as joy, though others would be unable to detect the happiness in his eyes, and the gentle upward curve of his lips. “Yes Sherlock, you crazy man, I will marry you.”
And for the first time ever in her acquaintance with the man, his lips pressed directly onto hers as he bent down to kiss her. Molly’s hands found their way into Sherlock’s curly hair, while his hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. The burgeoning evidence of his attraction encouraged Molly’s ardour, but she relunctantly pulled away.
"So you really do want to marry me Sherlock?" He nodded, and Molly took a deep breath to rally her courage. "I love you, Sherlock Holmes. You don’t have to say it back, but I do wonder, since you want to marry me, do you love me?” She stared intently at his face as she asked the question, unwilling to look away as a small uncertain part of her feared that he would lie just to appease her, though she knew in her heart he didn’t have to.
"Yes Molly Hooper, I do love you.” Sherlock smiled in response to the smile that bloomed on her face.
"For how long?" At this, Molly did look away. She focused instead on her small hands as they linked with one of his.
Sherlock gently brought her head up with his free hand and began to caress her face. “I knew for certain, when after Moriarty’s likeness was plastered throughout the city and Mycroft called me, my first thought was of your safety.” Here he paused, as they both thought of that terrible time. “Though I first suspected I might have deep feelings for you when I came back to London… but, well….”
Molly nodded at the unspoken recognition of her disastrous relationship with Tom. “I wish we could have discussed this years ago.”
Sherlock smiled at that and pulled Molly back into his arms, this time to simply hold her. “I should have said something a bit more direct than simply asking your help with cases. Not everyone can make the logical deductive leap from solving cases to dating.” Molly giggled into his shirt at his words and Sherlock smiled, his chin restly lightly on top of her head.
"Now, Dr. Hooper," Sherlock pulled back and Molly looked up at the man who loved her as she loved him. A wolfish smile, which she had never seen before, spread across his face, "I’d like to point out that I am not an object to be tested and that I will expect to be married after this." They grinned at each other and Molly began to pull Sherlock into his room once more. "I also expect for us to use swan shaped serviettes at our reception." Molly laughed as Sherlock closed the door behind them.
The End.