Author's Note: So, I know that this won't be anywhere near as good as say mizjoely or Writingwife83, but I hope y'all like it. It hasn't been beta'd and I am scared that the characters get too OOC. The italics are peoples thoughts (I know y'all can figure that out, but I wanted it to be clear) although the thinker changes from time to time, usually with whomever (whoever? I am bad at writing you see, why was I given ideas when I am bad at grammar and whatnot?!)

By the way, this fic assumes that Sherlock and Molly are on a good note after TFP and the ILY scene. I had an extreme difficulty deciding what Molly would do/say at the end of the story. I feel like I am her in a way, but I still think we would approach the subject differently. Ugh, I should just let y'all get to the story!

Oh and I obviously don't actually own the characters, because if I did, this horribly written idea would have been acted out perfectly by the amazing Benedict Cumberbatch and Lou Brealey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~221B Baker Street 09:00 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"John, how am I supposed to do this?"

"Sherlock, if you just think about her you'll know the best way." John watched as the brilliant detective paced, lost in thought trying to decide how to propose to the woman he loves. "But one question, before you do anything, when do you two start dating?"

Sherlock huffed in annoyance "Is that really important John? Molly has been in love with me for nine years, and I with her for five."

Five years, huh. He shook his head, "It's not like you couldn't just slip the ring on her finger and she say yes."

Sherlock stopped in his tracks and John knew in an instant that he went into his "buffering mode" and yet, as rapidly as he stopped, he took off to his room. As John started his newest blog post he laughed, who'd have thought, "The Detective & the Pathologist".

Half an hour later Sherlock ran out, freshly bathed and clothed in his finest suit and his deep maroon shirt, and headed to the door.

"Decided how to do it then? Won't you at least say goodbye to Rosie first?"

"If you truly want to know, yes I did." Sherlock looked toward his 2 year-old goddaughter, "goodbye Rosie, wish me luck."

John could not help but to grin as the child went over to her "uncle" to give him to give him her usual goodbye kiss.

"Bye-bye s'lock."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~St. Barts Lab 11:00 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Molly, I need your help!" Molly did her best to not shriek at the baritone voice blaring behind her as she turned to see Sherlock, collar turned up and all barreling through the door and straight over to her stool where she was mixing chemicals. He swiftly removed the tube she was looking at to replace it with another.

"Please tell me what you chemicals you find."

"Hmph, okay Sherlock," Always the same with him isn't it. Separating the solution so that she could run multiple tests, she began her work. As time passed, she was acutely aware of Sherlock's piercing gaze on her and her work. Sometimes seated across from her, and others peering over her shoulder to see the notes she jotted down in her small notebook. When completed, she came to the conclusion "This is a solution of phenylethylamine, norepinephrine, and dopamine."

"Great, thank you Molly. Please don't forget to come over tonight for dinner. You know how Mrs. Hudson will act if she and Rosie are the only girls." He grabbed her hand which held the results and quickly leaned in placing a peck on her check before spinning on his heel and sauntering out the door, is he really sauntering out the door?

Molly turned back to her work in exasperation and she mused on what had just happened. Oh whatever, time to get back to the other tube solution then. Though, I do wonder what case that was for, so strange to just have those chemicals mixed in a tube like that. Could have just been and experiment I guess. And yet, she could not stop the sinking feeling that something profound had just expired.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~On the Road 12:05~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock sat in the back of a cab, and thought about what had just transpired. He had a gut feeling that it may not have been the absolute best way to propose, but as he and John loved to say, "It is what it is."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~221B Baker Street Dinner Party 19:25 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone had arrived except for Molly and as usual, Sherlock played his violin waiting, Greg listened diligently to Mrs. Hudson, and John was played with his daughter. Nobody needed to wait much longer until the petite pathologist walked through the door.

"Last as always I suppose?" She smiled as she took off her gloves, reviling a silver ring, petite just like her, etched with a single bee and rose, and adorned with just a few small stones. A perfect match for the minimalistic woman. Sherlock moved over to help her remove her jacket she joined the crowd who, it seemed could not take their eyes off her. She did a quick glance down at her simple red A-line dress, spotting no blemishes or wrinkles, she wondered aloud "Is there something on me?"

John was the first to jump out of the daze, "No there isn't Molly, but I suppose congratulations are in order Sherlock, cheers!" This spooked the other two adults into reacting.

"Sherlock? Molly, do you mean to tell me – are you are going to marry this bloke?" Greg could not contain the shock, his voice almost cracking.

"Sherlock, oh how lovely dear, I knew once John got married that Molly would be the one you married! I truly thought it was you and him for the longest time though, all sorts of types around here you know." Mrs. Hudson moved over to give Sherlock a hug, but was stopped my Molly's weak voice.

"What, what do you mean? There is no need for congratulations, I am not getting married, and Mrs. Hudson we all know very well that Sherlock is always married to his work, and he has always been loyal to his relationships."

It was then Sherlock's turn to stare, "buffering face" on for the second time that day. All eyes darted from Molly's face of confusion to Sherlock's (except Rosie's of course, she was just trying to admire the shiny thing on Aunt Molly's hand).

John pointed to Rosie "Then Molly, why is Rosie marveling at the ring Sherlock gave you?"

"What ri-" Molly glance down towards her hand and gasped. "Sh-Sherlock, what does John mean you gave this ring to me?"

John sensing what happened, spoke again, "Sherlock tell me you didn't actually just slip the ring on her finger."

This finally seemed to get Sherlock out of his stupor, "But it was perfect John, you said she would say yes! Anyways I made her look at three chemicals while I did it!"

"What would chemicals have anything to do with proposing and giving your girlfriend a ring?"

"Phenylethylamine, norepinephrine, and dopamine."

"I'm sorry, what Molly?"

"Phenylethylamine, norepinephrine, and dopamine. The chemicals that make you feel love and happy. But that is aside the point right now, what made you think I was Sherlock's girlfriend?" Molly took a quick glance at Sherlock before returning her gaze toward the Doctor.

John looked dumbfounded, what had made him believe that Sherlock and Molly where dating? The evenings Sherlock would spend at the morgue or Molly's or the afternoons they would be over at 221B watching Rosie and sitting so close to each other that a sheet of paper could be held without falling. Ignoring Sherlock's death-stare, John spoke "Well, um, Molly now that you mention it. I thought that something was happening, but until this morning when Sherlock was wondering out loud how he could propose I wasn't certain." With a fleeting look to the detective, he added "Especially after he said, and I quote, 'Molly has been in love with me for nine years, and I with her for five.'"

Rosie giggled as Mrs. Hudson, and Greg gasped. A single tear rolled down Molly's cheek as she closed her eyes. She pivoted away, hands together to remove the dainty jewelry from her finger.

"Molly, no, Molly what's wrong," Sherlock practically leaped over to her and wrapped his lanky arms around her body to turn her towards him. He lifted her chin to try to look her in the eyes. "I thought you would like it."

Molly took a shuddering breath before looking into Sherlock's eyes, held captive not by the arms that encased her, but by the passion-filled gaze solely given to her. "Five years?" Sherlock's eyes widened, for once he really did not know what could possibly come from the pathologist. "Since Moriarty then?" Sherlock nodded and Molly took a deep breath. "Sherlock, you know good and well, as does everyone it seems, that I have loved you deeply, all the while you barged in and out of my life. I have forgiven you time after time after time, but Sherlock…"

"But what, Molly?"

"We haven't even dated you idiot, I actually don't even care if it was a case, or working in the lab, or slicing up cadavers! You could have at least told me of these feelings. I mean, I knew how you felt, ah – yes I did, I can see through all your walls and you know it – but still you twit, you could have acted on them!"

Sherlock's face inched closer eyes blazing, "Well, Dr. Hooper, you should know plain and simple that I did, indeed, act upon my feelings. I proposed to you!"

Noses almost touching, Molly's eyes became subtly furious and playful as her lips tugged upwards, "Then maybe I should act in my own pompous way to then? Knowing that you'd be okay with it?"

"We-" Sherlock's words were cut off by something suddenly covering his mouth. Wrapping his arms once more around Molly, neither wanted to end the sweet yet chaste kiss, until that is, they each felt a tug on their clothes.

They broke the embrace to see Rosie looking up at them with a huge smile on her face. Molly picked her up to bring her closer and the little girl looked from one to the other. Rosie giggled as she spoke "Sh- Sher- Sherlolly!"

Molly and Sherlock's eyes went wide as all the adults burst into fits of laughter. Taking Molly's hand in his, "Sherlolly it is."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson 23:47~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The Detective & the Pathologist AKA: Sherlolly"

Sherlock Holmes, the consulting detective, has done it. He has proven he has a heart. I am honoured to announce the engagement of William Sherlock Scott Holmes to the beautiful and much underestimated Margret Louise Hooper.

I planned to write more and give more information, but with how much has happened this evening between the two love-birds I took most of it off to post at a later date. I still cannot believe that Sherlock Holmes is engaged!