Disclaimer: I own nothing! I claim nothing! I'm just borrowing the characters for my own pleasure and the pleasure of whoever reads this!

Epilogue

It had taken a week after Sherlock brought her home to her flat for him to come whining that he needed an assistant at his. Of course, there was only one person he trusted for such an important position with John busy with Mary and their daughter. After he explained this fact in great detail, who was Molly to say no?

Now, three months later, Molly was quite happy to say she was a bit more than just an assistant. Sherlock scoffed at the terms, but she was very happy to be his girlfriend. It was kind of funny, how similar their arrangement was to before. She still woke him up and told him to sleep and eat when he went too long. She still helped him with his cases and allowed him to talk at her when he needed someone to simply listen.

It was the differences in these things though, that made it so much better. She woke him with a gentle caress through his hair, the press of her lips to his cheek or by arching against him when he held her and she needed to get away for one reason or another. She took his hand and gently tugged him to the bedroom when she could see his eyes getting weary from a long case, and she placed a plate of food in front of him instead of calling take away from miles away when he didn't eat for days. Instead of looking through a phone, she assisted at the autopsy table in the morgue for his cases. When he needed someone to listen to him talk, she would sit on the couch, he would place his head in her lap, and she would run her fingers through his curls as he told her his deductions and ran through the case with her.

The marks on her arms had scabbed over nicely and had healed as well as expected. There were scars. She traced the X's with her fingertips sometimes and remembered, because even though her body had healed, her mind still held its own scars, carved into her memories just as surely as the X's on her skin.

The first time Sherlock caught her tracing them, he had taken her into his arms and pulled her against him with the most solemn look in his eyes. No matter what anyone thought about him being awkward or strange, Molly had never seen him more human than that day.

It was strange, looking back now. Their story was an odd one, but she wouldn't trade any of it.

At the end of the day, when she was curled up on the couch watching crap telly and he was typing away at his laptop, Sherlock would pull out his cellphone. She would smile and retrieve hers even before it went off with his text.

Sometimes, it was about his case, what he was reading, or some simple fact he thought she might be interested in.

Sometimes, it was something so much more simple. It never made sense to anyone who saw, but looking at the words as they lit up her screen, there was only ever one response.

This may be a very long time, Molly. - SH

I'm okay with that. - Molly

.:*Fin*:.

That's it, the end!

This story has been one wonderful journey, and I'm so thankful to my readers and those who have left me comments and reviews. You guys have no idea how much of an inspiration you are, thank you all so much!

For those who commented on the last chapter, emedealer, MorbidbyDefault, Arienhod, Cecily Mitchell, Rose of Zakarisz, whenisayrun, and Jigsawjazzz, thank you 3

For those you comment on this one, again, Thank you!

To my lovely betas, Cumberburch and Liathwen, you're both amazing, and put up with so much from me 3

Until another story, everyone! :*