Molly sat in the semi-darkened lab. Her shift was over and all was quiet. Everyone else was already gone for the night.

She cast her mind back to that night long ago, when she had been startled by Sherlock as she was about to leave for the evening.

"You do count. You've always counted, and I've always trusted you."

She had asked him what he needed, and he had walked towards her thoughtfully, keeping eye contact, making her heart pound with anticipation. His eyes had been dilated as hers were, whether from the lack of light or the depth of feeling, she couldn't be certain.

"You."

He had reached her and leaned down, placing the most gentle kiss on her lips. That tiny touch had been electrifying.

What would have happened if she had put her arms around him then? What if her hands had tangled in his curls while she kissed him back with all the longing she felt for him? Would he have gone through with his plan to fake his own death, or would he have found another way to outwit Moriarty?

Molly had been too shy to act in so forward a manner, however. Instead, she had helped him with his plan, put him up for a few days secretly in her flat and let him go.

She sighed. So much time they had lost, time in which she had gotten herself engaged to another man, time in which she had acknowledged to herself that he was always the one who truly mattered to her.

Sherlock Holmes. The brilliant consulting detective who had forever captured her heart.

She was roused out of her reverie as the lights in the lab snapped on. The object of her affections stood there, handsome as ever, wearing his trademark Belstaff with the collar turned up over his favourite blue scarf.

"Molly?" he questioned, striding towards her. "Why are you sitting in the dark?"

He took her in his arms and kissed her, a kiss that touched her soul, a kiss that was one hundred times hotter than the electric touch of that first one.

Was she dreaming? Was he really here, loving her the way she loved him? She gave him an unfocussed, dreamy smile. If this was a dream, she had no desire to wake from it.

"Molly!" Sherlock was snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Come back to me, darling. Why were you sitting in the dark? Were you lost in the land of 'what-if' again?"

"Possibly," she glanced up at him and smiled into those dear, beloved features. Her gaze dropped to the gold ring with a perfect, heart-shaped diamond on the third finger of her left hand.

He kissed her again, making her heart flutter as it always did when their lips met.

"Don't you prefer reality to the land of 'what-if?'" he asked a few minutes later.

"Definitely, Sherlock, definitely," she said, allowing him to take her hand and lead her from the lab.

It was time to go home, to their home in Baker Street.

Author's note: I have a total head canon about that scene from years ago. The dilated pupils and the slow way Sherlock walked towards Molly before he said "you," totally make me think he was going to kiss her when the scene ended. Not to mention the deep voice he used when he said that one little word...

Please review, I'd love to know how other people interpreted that scene!