Ok, here is the final piece. I own nothing, except my ideas and bad puns. All rights belong to HRH Moftiss. Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. A big thank you again to writingwife83 and vonpeeps. It helps to have experts around.

There was decrease in communication from Sherlock the next week. Her few texts received curt responses, which finally dissuaded her from texting him further. Then, another week later, photos of him shooting in Cardiff were posted in the gossip magazines that were delivered for Mrs Hudson. Looking exceptionally dashing in a Victorian costume, Molly realized that he was shooting for the TV series and so would be extremely busy.

In the past, they had been texting daily while he was shooting down under, so the increasing radio silence felt extremely deafening. She missed those interactions, missed his at times inane rants. His keen observations and dorky jokes. His joy at things achieved and frustrations at missed targets. He had opened a window to his life for her and she was admittedly unhappy to be shuttered out now.

She finally admitted that she just missed him. A lot. He was never far away from her thoughts and her heart almost ached with the need to see him again.

And that scared her.

So when an invite for a pathology conference at St Barts landed on her desk, Molly immediately registered and confirmed her attendance. She had continued to attend these conferences to keep abreast of the latest approach and technical upgrade in her field.

She had never been more excited to book her tickets to London.

Unlike her last trip, the first person she informed this time was Sherlock. His only response had been a one worded Details?

Arriving in London by late noon, she had an entire evening to herself before the three day long meet would begin. Sherlock was busy shooting, Meena was at work, so Molly met up with some of her other friends. It was as she was going back to her hotel late evening, that her phone pinged.

Coffee?

It was Sherlock.

Molly feeling a bit emboldened by the wine, sent out a cheeky reply.

-Black, two sugars please.

-Don't joke Molly.

She was picked up by a chauffeured Sherlock and they went to the same restaurant they had visited earlier.

"Their coffee is good." As he gave their orders, he sighed and shut his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands.

"Bad day, was it?"

"I've had worse, though this one just got better!" He smirked at her raised brow, leaning towards her before saying, "Colombian coffee does that for me." His face melted into a cheeky grin.

Molly shook her head, smiling. To be honest she was a bit relieved. This was the Sherlock she was hoping to meet after his abrupt departure.

They conversed a bit about his current work. Once the coffee was served, there was an amiable silence, with both guests preferring thoughts to words.

It was only once they were done that Sherlock cleared his throat, saying, "Molly, I'm having a crazy time with the shoot right now, tomorrow we travel to Cardiff for two days, the weather spoiled the earlier schedule."

"My next three days are packed too. Thank god for free evenings, though." She smiled.

Sherlock opened his mouth as if to respond but looked away, it seemed like he was debating with himself. He then leaned his arms on the table, and asked "Molly, what is this?"

"Sorry?"

"This," he said, gesturing at both of them. "Us meeting inspite of having a horrendously busy day, atleast in my case. And you've been travelling since morning. But still, look at us both."

"Isn't that what friends do," she said, her eyes not moving from her hands where they held the coffee cup.

"No," he was blunt. "I would have postponed meeting any friend of mine in favour of an early night…but still here I am. This is more like a date, isn't it?"

She was taken aback, before shaking her head and smiling, "But it isn't."

"I would like it to be." Sherlock was serious, his eyes a shade of blue green that was mesmerizing. All of Molly's thoughts flew out of her head, leaving her just blinking in response.

"Look," he sounded a bit cautious. "I don't mean to be pushy. But we could beat around the bush for ages and…I live London, you live in Scotland. It's not exactly a short drive if I have to see you…And I'd like to see you…a lot".

The way their last meeting had ended, and their ensuing communication had trickled down, this was the last reaction she had expected from Sherlock.

Her face must've mirrored her shock, because Sherlock laid his hand on hers and gently squeezed, calling out her name softly.

She almost jumped.

"I…don't know what to say," she mumbled.

"I didn't intend to lay it on you like that. And you don't have to say anything now. But I felt that if I didn't…a wise person once told me that life is too short, so I'm just following her lead. Look, I am travelling to Cardiff tomorrow for a couple of days, just give it a thought."

She didn't speak much for rest of the evening, still processing what Sherlock had said and what it meant. To her, for her. To be honest, she wasn't truly surprised by what he said, there were signs enough if she were to look objectively. She had seen the signs and had chosen to ignore them.

It wasn't any romantic notion or a wannabe tragic streak that made her close up in face of affection. She had had too many personal experiences to open her heart easily. Loss of her sibling when she was still small, followed by the death of her Mum. Her father had forced himself to smile and carry on for her, but she had seen the light go out of his eyes after her mum's death and he was never the same. It was almost with a certain relief that she greeted his death by cancer, something that he too had accepted with a smile on his face.

Tom had been kind, gentle soul, subtly breaking down the barriers she created around. He had been patient, he had been loving and she had finally let herself love someone with all her heart. His tragic death in the line of duty had felt like the final nail in the coffin.

But Sherlock was different. He had made his interest clear, his intention clear. He was as subtle as a sledgehammer. He was hot headed, had minimal patience and she had been at the receiving end of his temper more than a few times. But he was genuine, he was fair and he wanted to make the most of their little time together.

She couldn't fault his logic; the ball was literally in her court.

It was after the second day of her conference and she was lolling around Meena's house in the evening when she received a text from Sherlock. It was a photo of him observing an ancient mummified body, along with the text Newest prop, made with input from Barts pathology department.

The wide smile on Molly's face immediately made Meena grab her phone and read the text, keeping the instrument away from Molly's grabbing hands.

"What's this? Where do you find them? Tom made the most morbid, foot-in-the-mouth jokes and now this one sends you photos of dead mummys!"

"As against live ones?" Molly retorted tongue in cheek, finally succeeding in grabbing her phone back.

"Haha, funny!" Meena frowned. "So, Hooper, you are now receiving texts from his workplace but you haven't said much about your Hollywood star…what's cooking? I can almost smell it from here and it smells delicious," a lascivious grin on her face.

"Oh, hold on to your knickers, nothing is cooking. You and your conclusions."

"In your case, always the right conclusion! I was correct about Tom and I can see from your face that something is up with Sherlock too. Come on, spill it!"

Shaking her head, Molly rolled over, grabbed the pillow and plonked her face in it. She let out a muffled scream, and then looked up at her friend, red cheeks and bright eyed.

"He says he wants to date me… me!"

Meena's jaw dropped and she continued to stare at her friend, whose face was again hidden in the pillow.

"No way!" she whispered. "You're pulling my leg…but then, it's not really surprising is it. Who in their right mind would travel to the back of beyond called Glenrowle for a holiday, when you can travel anywhere in the world? I told you then, there had to be a very good reason for that….so what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be gallivanting across town with your man?"

"He is not my man, and he is in Cardiff, shooting." Molly's smile slowly dropped and she got a faraway look on her face, Meena shrewdly guessing the reason behind it.

"Oh God, you are in two minds, aren't you? Seriously, Molly Hooper!" Meena grabbed the other pillow and sat next to her, facing away.

"Look at it practically, I live in Scotland, he lives in London an-"

"Screw practicality for a bit. You've always followed your head, just give your heart a chance. And stop assuming from the beginning that things are going to head south. You left this city when you lost Tom, now it's giving you a chance to find love again."

"It's not that simple and you are definitely jumping the gun-"

"Maybe I am. But Molly, give it a go; I know you want to. Meet him, spend some time with him… give him a chance."

Meena turned and lay besides Molly.

"What stops you?"

"I don't know Meena," she responded after a pause. "Guess its return of the 'Once bitten twice shy' syndrome. I know it doesn't make sense, but…oh God; I'm over thinking this, aren't I? I mean he is a great guy…but I feel a bit of guilt…should I feel guilty?"

"Honey, no. I was expecting this, no. Tom was the sweetest man and he too would agree with me. Listen, I understand the hesitation, ok. It mustn't be easy to move on, but you have done such a fabulous job. You were brave enough to up and leave London in a matter of days. You knew what would work for you and you did just that. Follow your heart, it never fails you. And this is home, we are always here for you, whatever happens."

Molly finally looked at her friend and scrunched her nose.

"Oh how I hate you."

"I know, I am fabulous. Now stop mooching around and reply to that fine specimen of the male species. Else I will."

Knowing Meena and her propensity to actually work on her threats, Molly grabbed her phone and replied, You are welcome ;).

Meena just rolled on the bed laughing at Molly's response.

"Oh God, you are seriously ridiculous."

Molly stuck out her tongue and grinned back. Till her phone pinged again.

Shoot wrapped, now in the train. Dinner tomorrow?

"He is asking me out to dinner, tommorrow!"

"Yes, say yes!" Meena yelled, jumping off the bed. Before Molly cold respond, another text appeared.

Will pick and drop you, but can we eat in?

He was inviting her to his home…it felt intimate, but she decided to go with the flow and with slightly trembling fingers, sent an OK.

After attending an interesting final day of the conference, Molly was picked from St Barts and driven to a detached house in Hampstead. She was pleasantly surprised to have John answer the door, haven't seen the man since Glenrowle. Hugging him in greetings, she was about to inquire after Mary, when the said woman appeared, ring on the finger and a slightly swollen belly.

"Oh My God! Mary…congratulations...I didn't know you were married…and a baby…this is fantastic, wait till Mrs Hudson hears about it, she would be so thrilled!" Molly enthused, hugging the mother-to-be.

"Oh thanks, honey. We got married this very morning; it was a very small ceremony. His nibs too was told only late last night, and he was the best man."

Molly giggled as she was led to a sitting room that was expensively put but still homely.

"Oh I'm sure he wouldn't have been too pleased, he hates having surprises doesn't he?"

Mary exchanged a look with John, before she smiled broadly and nodded. "He wasn't too pleased but he'll get over it."

"He is actually relieved that there was no stag to arrange or speeches to deliver, though publicly embarrassing John…Ah! A missed opportunity…maybe the next time." They hadn't seen the track suit clad Sherlock enter the room where he was greeted by a cushion Mary threw at him.

"Over my dead body", the blond dared him.

"That's one of the requirements…"Sherlock grinned and ducked as Mary threw another cushion at him.

"Welcome to my world Molly." John sighed as he sat down, ignoring his bride and his best friend bantering, and inviting her to sit down. "This is the biggest and the most important day of my life, and the two people that I love and care about most in the world, are right now pillow fighting like five year olds…and one of them is five months pregnant. My life in a nutshell."

Molly's laughter was cut short by a still chuckling Sherlock sitting next to her on the sofa, his arm casually draped behind her on the backrest. She was suddenly very conscious of his proximity; he was sweaty, disheveled and never looked more attractive. But he himself provided the distraction, informing the new couple of dinner at someplace called the Diogenes Club. It seemed to be an exclusive place, as Mary gasped then narrowed her eyes and said, "Mycroft…you actually asked your brother!"

Sherlock scrunched his nose and then shrugged, "Needs must…besides, he owed you a wedding gift. We'll leave in about half an hour." Turning to Molly, he finally addressed her, "Sorry, but the Watsons sprung up their wedding plans on me late last night. So the quiet peaceful dinner I was hoping for is cancelled. We all will head into a noisy, public setting and have fancy, overpriced food instead, how wonderful."

"This is the only time John Watson is getting married, so chin up honey," Mary teased.

"Oh, that…that sounds fun. This is a special day and you guys should go celebrate-" She made to get up, gathering her purse and phone, when Sherlock interrupted her.

"Where are you off to? If it's only the three of us, I would stand out as the third wheel…actually Mary would, if you believe the rumours, they'll be wondering who got married" Sherlock needled the bride, who again threw the cushion threw at him.

Turning to face her, he added sincerely "Stay, please. I'll be ready in a mo'," saying which, he left the room.

"But I'm not even dressed", she weakly protested to Mary, looking down at her cobalt shirt and black trousers which were fine while addressing a crowd of doctors, but definitely not a fine dining outfit.

"No worries, you're looking fine!" Mary's eyes twinkled, as she helped Molly freshen up before heading to get ready herself.

Molly was waiting for the new bride and the rest of the company, when she heard footsteps and turned to see a black shirt and dark-grey suited Sherlock approach her, his curls still wet but in place. She was glad he spoke first, as not a legible word could've left her lips or formed in her head for that matter.

He looked fresh, healthy and so very alive! He was excited, happy and all that positive energy just flowed off him. He suddenly reminded her of Tom; same curly hair, same height, the same joie de vivre.

If he took her breath away, the reasons ran deep.

"Molly!"

She jumped, her focus back to the man in front of her and smiled apologetically.

"Shall we leave?" He asked with a smirk on his face. Molly realized that the Watsons were ready and waiting for her.

As she sat in the car with Mary, the woman turned to her, a slight frown on her face.

"We are not going to a place that frequented by celebrities but there might be some photographers at the venue; the paps have now started haunting these places too. They are a menace who we just can't seem to avoid. Just stay close to me and turn a deaf ear to anything they say. Let Sherlock and John handle it."

Mary was right. Sherlock dropped them a block off but the news of the Watson wedding was out. Though John wasn't a celebrity himself, he was badgered with questions, while a few were thrown at Mary and Molly too, before they were allowed inside the club's sanctuary. As they handed their coats and jackets over, Molly saw an explosion of light and sound as Sherlock arrived.

"That was…horrible…and they weren't even interested in us. Is it this bad all the time?" Molly couldn't wait to ask as soon as they were seated, her discomfort over her outfit all but forgotten.

"Oh this was nothing unfortunately. You can head to Nobu or The Ivy and actually get blinded. There is a reason why some of my colleagues insist on wearing sunglasses at night, it's become a bloody necessity." Sherlock sounded nonchalant but she could see that he was irritated. "But let's leave discussing my disadvantageous lifestyle to some other day. Today we celebrate."

And celebrate they did! The food was delicious, the setting lovely and cozy and the company was truly wonderful. Molly had never seen Sherlock so relaxed, laughing and joking with the Watsons. She could see the connection between the three of them, the bond of friendship thick and tight. She should've felt like an outsider, but was pulled in all their conversations, till all awkwardness and reticence fell away. The excellent wine helped too.

By the end of it, even before the dessert was served, the Watsons decided to make an early exit, eager to get home. "Oh shut it Sherlock, it's not the sex, my feet are so swollen, I can't wait to get these bloody shoes off and soak my poor feet in warm water," Mary bit out.

Before leaving, she leaned towards Molly and whispered, "Be patient, he's a git, but he's a loving one at that." Winking at Molly's frowning face, she left with her waiting husband.

There was a comfortable silence as Sherlock drove away from the club, Molly enjoying the site of almost empty London streets. They stopped next to a still open coffee shop and got takeaways. Since the night was warmish and the coffee excellent, they walked to her hotel nearby.

"It's been a day of contrasts. From the halls of a public hospital to your swanky private home, from high end food to take away coffee, from being hounded by paparazzi to this," Molly gestured with her hands.

"From being surrounded by people to finally being alone with you," Sherlock added.

Molly frowned at him till Sherlock started chuckling."Sorry about that. I should realize that not all people find corny romantic dialogues amusing."

She chuckled, shaking her head before asking something that was on her mind since dinner. "How do you deal with it, the constant scrutiny, the hounding at every step, your fans demanding a piece of you? It must be exhausting."

"It is. The fans are fine most of the time; it's the camera phones that get to me. There is never a private moment outdoors. But you can't have it all and I have a frankly fabulous life, so you learn to distance yourself from it." He shrugged.

She nodded slowly, trying to understand. His eyes glittered as he faced her and walked backwards, "That's why a trip to Glenrowle seemed like a perfect getaway. Though unfortunately I had to cut it short-"

"Why did you do that," she cut in. "And don't give me the other guests as a reason, the Inn could have been occupied when you arrived!"

He grinned at her, winking and saying, "Well..."

He turned and walked besides her in silence before adding, "I am an actor and hate to admit but I do subscribe to some amount of vanity. I came to Scotland to spend some time with you...I didn't except you to fawn over me or anything but the fact that you sounded almost nonchalant and dismissive…I didn't like it."

He took a step or two before he realized she had stopped, a frown on her face.

"What are you saying, me being dismissive? When did I ever do that?"

He grimaced and faced her, taking a deep breath, "I came to see you while you were with the vet, birthing that calf. He was trying to convince you-"

"To move back here, yes. He has been saying that since day one."

"Smart chap... Listen, I always knew I wanted see you the moment I landed back. But from what you said to that man, I didn't think you were clear about what you wanted and -… Well not to add to your confusion, it seemed best that I return to London."

"So you're saying…you wanted to give me space…is that also why there were so few texts, or barely any response to mine?"

"Hmmm...Also a bruised ego to be honest." He pursed his lips and shrugged, looking a tad bit awkward at this admission.

"Don't we all have one…an ego, I mean." She hesitated before admitting, "Thank you though, for being so considerate."

They had reached her hotel by now, both fidgeting like teenagers.

"Well that was-"

"What are-"

Chuckling Sherlock said, "This seems to happen all the time. Anyways…tomorrow? Brunch?"

"I'd love that." She said shyly.

He gave her a wide grin before bending to give her a lingering kiss on her cheek and moving back towards his car.

The next day was spent walking around streets of London, having meals in roadside cafes and coffee in parks. They were interrupted by his fans a few times, but for most of the day, were undisturbed. There was no awkwardness, no pauses and the conversation flowed easily.

They even caught a movie in the theatre, popcorn and all. Molly hadn't done that in ages and she had the loveliest of time. It helped that the movie was a sci-fi flick and starred Tom Hiddleston, a fact that Sherlock didn't hesitate to tease her about, sharing small anecdotes about the actor and the filming process till she was red in the face and coughing with the effort of holding in the laughter. They were shushed more than a few times by other irritated viewers.

At the end of the movie, Sherlock grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the exit just as the credits started to roll, ensuring they weren't caught in the crowd.

Even after they were out of the theatre, Sherlock didn't release her hand. And it felt the most natural thing in the world.

They ended the day with a lovely dinner at a cozy place called Angelo's, where they were seated in a corner almost concealed from fellow diners.

"The owner knows me since I was a struggling actor and was always very supportive. It helps that he is also an excellent chef."

She happily indulged in the delicious Italian cuisine and wine they were offered. It seemed like the perfect end to the dream like day she had had.

Standing outside her hotel room this time, Sherlock still holding her hand, she managed to mumble shyly, "Had a lovely day."

Sherlock didn't reply, instead moved a step closer, not breaking eye contact. He looked at her for a moment, gave her a small smile before bending and kissing her cheek.

She had closed her eyes, so was not prepared for the light touch of his lips on hers that had her sighing and opening her eyes.

They continued to stare at each other, needing no words to communicate their feelings.

The ping of the hotel lift arriving at their floor broke their reverie, at which Sherlock finally let go of her hand and whispered, "Sweet dreams, Molly Hooper."

As she closed her hotel door and leaned against it, Molly didn't know if she wanted to cry or laugh.

One thing was for sure, the walls she'd built around her heart, had taken a massive beating that day. And if she was being honest, there was no more use for them at all, as she had already lost her heart to Sherlock Holmes.

The next morning found Molly sitting by Tom's grave. She couldn't help but smile at the difference in her demeanor this morning and the last time she visited. The barrage of emotions passing through her made her feel as if she was about to burst. Burying her head in her hands she finally felt gathered enough to put two words together.

"What was that you liked to quote after your first tour, from some foreign movie? Have a clean and pure desire and the universe works its ways around to make it come true or some crap like that. It still sounds corny as hell. But…this morning I met Mike Stamford. And, Dr Sorkin has put in his papers. The post is a junior one but…."

She took a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing, "I accepted the offer. The post, the pay, everything is at a lower level but Mike said he could take care of things…and it has been more than three years away so...yeah, I am moving back. And I am thrilled, and happy and…nervous. I'll keep the inn for as long as I can manage, but…I'm going to miss Mrs Hudson. And the other old bats. But yeah, I'm coming back to London. Yaaay for me!" She choked out the last part, still smiling brightly.

The decision was made, there was no dithering and the relief she felt at that moment was immense. She spent some more time enjoying the peace and was leaving, when she turned around and addressed the soldier's grave again.

"And yeah, the other reason too. Might have had some influence on the decision. But only some." She gave a playful smile and walked away.

The whole of the day seemed to pass by in a blur before she was meeting Sherlock again for post dinner coffee. The night was cool and they were wrapped up warm, the hot liquid proving the perfect foil against the cold air. Sitting on a bench just outside a park, Molly was itching to share the news, at the same time not wanting to come across as too eager, before Sherlock spoke.

"I leave for the next schedule down under in about a week's time. It has been a pretty busy time and-"

"I've accepted an offer from St Barts!" she cut in, her mouth working before her brain could order her to stop.

There was a pause while Sherlock just stared at her, his face blank. So she blabbered on nervously about the lower grade and pays and logistics in moving back.

And all this while Sherlock didn't move a muscle. She finally mustered up the nerve to shake his arm, softly calling his name.

He blinked a couple of times before saying, "So you're saying…you're moving back to London."

"Yes. It's my old job and I love it…and it's not every day that there's a vacancy a-"

The next thing she knew, Sherlock had grabbed her face and was kissing her. Too stunned to respond, she could only gape at him when he released her.

"Best thing I ever heard, Molly Hooper…music to my ears." He kissed her again, though this time she responded with all her heart, knowing she had made the right decision.

The ensuing mornings were busy, with Sherlock tying loose ends at his side as his departure date approached and Molly working on the paperwork and planning the logistics.

She had broken the news to Mrs Hudson, whose immediate reaction had been pure joy. Molly knew the actual departure from Glenrowle would be bittersweet but decided to cross that bridge later. Her friends in London had been thrilled to bits, especially Meena, who had let out a pterodactyl-worthy screech at Molly's news.

The evenings were reserved for Sherlock, who spent every free minute with her. It was one such late evening, she was sitting on his sofa in front of the fireplace, wine glass in hand, legs tucked under and staring at the flames. Sherlock had his head on her lap and both seemed to be lost in their own thoughts.

"You remember, that evening in Glenrowle, when I had lashed out at you and you whooped my arse?"

Molly, giggling at the memory, replied "How can I ever forget that?"

"I could never get you out of my mind after that. And that morning returning those boots? You looked so lovely…and then you spoke about trusting others and letting them in…Molly, I knew thenthat you were special. I think I fell in love with you a little that day."

Molly, who had been running her fingers through Sherlock's curls, froze at his words. He sat up and turned to look at her, his eyes conveying words not yet uttered.

"Molly, I am a ridiculous man who is an arse most of the time. I lash out, I am impatient, but looking at the people around me, I feel blessed." He held her hand and intertwined their fingers. "But never more than when I'm with you."

Her breath hitched at his words. He suddenly looked very nervous, and very young. "What I'm trying to say is…it's not an easy life, being with me. I will be away for ten weeks this time, and if I continue doing good, this is how it's always going to be. Crazy schedules, missed family events, cancelled holidays, weird social life. And of course, the media interest, PR antics…evil necessities of the entertainment world."

He moved closer, holding their hands over his heart. "I just want you to know that its not an easy life. You should know what you're getting into if you are with me. And sadly, its baptism by fire, there is no gradual introduction."

His face was earnest, but tinged with trepidation. "I am very serious Molly. I care about you enough that I don't want to subject you to the tomfoolery that occurs most of the time, so think about it."

She paused, thinking before she placed her hand on his cheek, a small smile on her face.

"I left London looking for ways to deal with a broken heart. I was so busy building walls around it that I didn't even realize when it healed. And that was because of you. So, yes, what you said doesn't sound very nice but then I've seen worse, remember?"

Taking a deep breath, she gathered all her courage and finally said what she had come to realize recently herself.

"I love you Sherlock, with all my heart and I just want to be with you. In whatever manner I can."

Sherlock hugged her tightly, buried his nose in her hair and whispered, "I love you, Molly. God knows I do!"

The kiss the shared was searing with passion, conveying the depths of their emotions and longing. He gently pushed her on her back, his lips burning a path to her neck, where he nipped and kissed at the pulse point. Molly tugged on his hair, pulling him up to kiss his lips again. He was almost crushing her, one hand pulling at her waist and the other buried in her hair but she felt glorious.

As they finally came up for oxygen, gasping and breathing fast, Sherlock whispered, "Stay." Unable to find words, Molly simply nodded before pulling him down again for another blistering kiss, her very being and soul filled with happiness.

"Molly, are you ready? We have to leave today you know." Sherlock called out, impatient to get the evening rolling. Coz the earlier you got into the groove the less painful it was.

"I am in the ca-" Sherlock was silenced by the vision in front of him. Dressed in a flowing, yellow creation with her hair made up, Molly looked ethereal.

"You were saying?" she gently teased.

Sherlock placed his forehead against hers and whispered, "You look lovely," amazed at his ability to make her blush, and her to make him forget his words. Offering her his arm, he led them towards the waiting car.

Arriving at the venue, they were subjected to a barrage of lights and questions, Molly handling the attention with grace and ease.

It was as they were going inside that Sherlock bent and whispered in her ears, "But you look even lovelier in your hospital coat, Mrs Holmes, especially after a particularly interesting autopsy."

People wondered what was said that made Molly blush and laugh out at the same time. The only thing reported was that the couple looked as loved up now as they did just after their wedding, almost a decade ago.