Maybe I'm crazy to suppose
I'd ever be the one you chose

Ooh, but in case
I stand one little chance
Here comes
The jackpot question in advance
What are you doing New Year's
New Year's Eve?

What are You Doing, New Year's Eve?

Molly was never one for New Year's Eve celebrations. She didn't entirely enjoy surrounding herself with extremely drunken people to ring in the New Year. It just wasn't her thing. Meena usually had a party, and she had gone twice before, but not this year. This year she intended on staying home, curling up with a glass of red wine, Toby purring on her lap, and a movie in the DVD player. That had been her plan, until The World's Only Consulting Detective strode into the lab.

"Molly! You're spending the evening with me."

This was his announcement as he took off his coat and scarf.

Molly, being quite used to these sort of declarations from him merely scratched at her forehead, and spun about to face him. "Sherlock, my shift ends in fifteen minutes; I am not spending the rest of my evening in the lab. Not tonight. I don't exactly want to ring in the New Year … here!"

Sherlock blinked at her as he sat himself down in front of his favourite microscope. "That's not what I meant at all. I know you don't want to stay here tonight, you're coming back to Baker Street, with me."

"I- I am?"

Sherlock gave her a weary look. "Isn't that what I just said?"

"Why would I go to Baker Street with you?"

He tore his eyes away from her and leaned towards the microscope and began to peer into it, even though he didn't have anything on the slide to gaze at. "You're not spending New Year's Eve alone," he muttered.

Molly opened her mouth but before she could get a word out he cut in.

"No. Spending it with Toby does not make you not alone. I mean not alone as in with another human."

Molly leaned against the counter she was standing next to; Sherlock still wouldn't look up from the microscope.

"You want to spend New Year's Eve, with me?"

"Ye-es."

He still didn't look up. Molly smiled to herself and slowly began to make her way around the lab table until she was standing directly beside Sherlock. His gaze was fixed entirely on the microscope.

"Sherlock … you're not looking at anything."

His mouth twitched slightly before he leaned back. "So it would seem."

Molly's smile widened. "Will you give me a kiss at midnight? And I don't mean one of those kisses you always give me on the cheek; I mean a full-on proper snog."

Sherlock's eyes finally met Molly's. "If I must."

She gave his arm a swat. "What sort of response is that?! You really are rubbish at being a boyfriend!"

He grimaced slightly. "I really do hate that word."

Molly gave a weary sigh. "Yes, I know. You've told me, several thousand times. But what else am I supposed to call you? My lover? My partner? My wittle consulting detective?"

Sherlock's eyes narrowed at her. "Not. Funny."

She flashed him a cheeky grin.

He turned himself so that he was facing her fully. "I think husband would be a better title."

Her smile fell away as she stared at him in shock. When she didn't make any sort of response he placed his hands on her arms and pulled her to stand in between his legs. She blinked owlishly at him.

"Did you – just?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "Why? That's all you can say is … why?"

Molly lifted up her hands, placing them on his shoulders. "You want to marry me?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a ring?"

"No."

"Good, I don't want one."

He smirked. "I deduced that quite awhile ago. John gave me hell for it, but I told him it wasn't what you wanted. I do have something for you though." He tucked his hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small black box and held it out to her.

Molly stared down at it for a moment before removing her hands from his shoulders and taking the box from him. Sherlock's hands came to rest on her hips. She let out a soft gasp when she saw what was inside.

A perfectly anatomically correct silver heart lay nestled against the silk, attached to a silver chain.

"I'm giving you my heart Molly … metaphorically speaking, because physically that's not possible, as you very well know …"

"Sherlock."

"Right, sorry." He cleared his throat. "I've been told by countless people that I'm a machine, that I don't have heart, that I am unfeeling, a freak … but you've never once called me any of these things. And that's because you have always been able to see passed all of the boundaries and walls I've put up; you've always been able to see me, as I truly am. And you've accepted me, for who I am, for what I am. Even after all that I've done and said you've never given up on me."

Molly raised her eyes to look at him, tears pooling.

A look of confusion and concern came over Sherlock's face. "You're crying. Why are you crying? You're not supposed to be sad!"

Molly let out a laugh. "Sherlock I'm not crying because I'm sad. People don't only cry when they're sad. These are happy tears!"

"Well that is just absolutely confusing."

"Sherlock shut up!" She slipped her hand around the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss, clutching with her other hand the small black box.

It took him only a smattering of seconds to respond, pulling her close up against him, deepening their kiss. When they had to pull apart for air Sherlock was smiling at her.

"So, is your answer a yes then?"

"Of course it is! I'm sure you already deduced that it would be!"

He looked smug as he said to her, "Well, yes."

She giggled and kissed him again.

"Can you put it on me?" She held out the box to him.

He took out the necklace and she turned around so that he could clasp it about her neck. When he was finished he began to leave a trail of open-mouth kisses upon her skin, his hands starting to wander downwards.

"You're shift is over," he murmured, running his nose along the shell of her ear.

"Mmm yeah … so it is." She forced herself to step away from his hold. "I'll just – uhh … clean up and get my things."

A few minutes later the pair of them both had on their coats and scarves and were making their way out of St. Barts.

"I just need to stop by my flat first," Molly said to him as he hailed for a cab.

"Whatever for?"

"To feed Toby of course!"

"But Toby isn't there."

"What?"

"I went to your flat and picked up Toby and some of your things and brought them to Baker Street before coming here."

Molly grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and pulled him down to her for another kiss.

Upon arriving at 221B, Toby came running out from beneath the sofa, meowing loudly at his owner. He didn't seem too unhappy about his new surroundings, but he was most definitely happy to see Molly. His purr grew louder as he rubbed up against her legs.

"Did he give you any trouble?" Molly asked Sherlock as she leaned down to scratch Toby behind the ears, just as he liked it.

"No. He just meowed the entire trip over."

Molly laughed. "He hates the cat carrier."

After they took off their coats and scarves they continued further into the flat.

Molly turned and looked at Sherlock. "We have an hour until the New Year, how should we spend it?"

Sherlock gave her a rather wolfish grin. "I have a few ideas." With that said he hoisted her in his arms and carried her towards the bedroom, as Molly threw back her head and laughed.

He kicked the door shut behind them and placed her upon the bed, before they made quick work of removing each others clothing. As soon as they were both entirely naked Sherlock covered her body with his own and kissed her deeply. Molly sighed happily against his lips.

"I must say, I didn't quite expect this."

"No?"

"No. I didn't think you'd ever propose. I sort of thought that we would just continue … as we were. And I was fine with that."

Sherlock pushed himself up so that he was more so hovering over her. "But you weren't. Not really."

Molly bit down on her bottom lip, fingering the necklace he had given her. "Mmm … no. But I didn't want you to think that you had to force yourself into doing something you didn't want to."

"I'm not forcing myself into doing this Molly. I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife. I want to be your husband."

She smiled up at him, running her fingers through his curls. "I realize that now, and that, that makes me very happy."

"Good." He pressed his lips to hers. "I'm happy too, by the way."

She giggled against his mouth as he kissed her again. When he pressed his hardened length against her, brushing himself along her wet folds they both moaned.

Sherlock broke apart the kiss and began to trail kisses down her body, stopping every few moments to suckle and nip at her skin. He lavished each breast with attention, being certain to leave a mark upon each. By the time he was finished her nipples were hard and aching.

He nestled himself between her legs, giving each of her inner thighs a few kisses before dragging his tongue along her wet slit. He parted her folds with his thumbs and delved right in.

Molly's wild moans filled the room as he alternated between fucking her with his tongue and lapping at her clit. He didn't stop until she screamed out his name, her fingernails digging into his scalp.

Her head fell back against the pillow as she panted heavily. He wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand as he stretched himself out along beside her. Once she had caught her breath she pushed him over onto his back and straddled his waist.

"Your turn," she declared.

She kissed him, tasting herself on his tongue, before slowly beginning to kiss, lick and nibble her way down his taut body. When she came to his cock she took the tip directly into her mouth, licking away the pre-cum. Sherlock groaned slightly, clutching at the bed sheets with his hands. As she took almost his entire length into her mouth he swore loudly.

Alternating between using her hands, her mouth, and her tongue, she was turning Sherlock into a swearing, blubbering mess. He always seemed to lose all conscious effort of eloquent speech when he was turned on. When he gave her shoulder a tight squeeze, the signal that he was close, she released him from between her lips with a soft pop.

She leaned back, looking up at him, loving the sight of his flushed face. After a few moments of catching his breath he grabbed her and rolled her onto her back. She began to giggle again as he kissed her hungrily, pulling both of her legs up alongside his hips.

He slid his cock into her, their bodies forming perfectly to each others. He nestled himself against her and she moaned happily.

"Think we can prolong coming until the New Year?" she asked him this with an impish grin, and a raised eyebrow.

Sherlock growled slightly, chancing a glance at the nearby clock. "Possibly," he muttered.

Molly giggled again then gasped as he pulled himself out of her before slipping back in, hard.

"Fuck!" she whimpered. "Not if you continue like that!"

He settled himself into a slow and steady rhythm, allowing them both to revel in the sensation that their joined bodies were making as they moved together.

The room filled with their happy sighs and moans as he continued to thrust into her. He suckled on her neck as she ran her hands up and down his back, feeling his muscles move. She lifted up her hips, pressing them to meet his. Sherlock groaned into her neck, biting down slightly.

"Ten minutes," he gasped out hoarsely.

"I don't know if I can hold on … God you feel so good Sherlock!"

He kissed her, slowing his movements even more, barely giving her half his length.

"Don't!" she cried out. "Please!"

He filled her again, but continued to thrust at an excruciatingly slow pace. "Fuck!" he hissed into her shoulder.

The minutes passed, and when she rolled her hips Sherlock swore again. She smiled cheekily up at him then let out a curse herself as he began to now thrust into her very hard.

"YES! That's it! OH GOD! FUCK!" she cried out. "Nearly there, OH!"

Sherlock was staring at the time, only a minute to go, as he continued his fast pace of hard and deep thrusts. Molly grabbed the sides of his face and turned him so that he was looking at her. Their eyes met, and suddenly as a chorus of fireworks and loud cheers erupted outside, Molly felt her orgasm wash over her. She was certain she saw fireworks of her own. Sherlock gave one more thrust and grew still, his hips stuttering against hers as his own orgasm hit him.

He fell against her, panting heavily. She cradled the back of his head in her hands, running her fingers through his curls as she kissed along his neck, her breath warm against his skin. He lifted up his head slightly, turning it so that their lips could meet.

"Not exactly a kiss directly at midnight," he gasped out.

"Mmm … good enough though." She kissed him again. "Happy New Year, Sherlock."

He smiled at her. "Happy New Year Molly … my future wife!"

Molly let out a loud, happy laugh as he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. "Happy New Year indeed!" she declared happily.

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HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!