For the prompt on Tumblr:

I love in-denial!Sherlock fics, so how 'bout this: kid!Molly shyly proposes marriage to kid!Sherlock (which annoys him to no end). He gives his answer with finality, saying he won't marry her, not now not ever. It's the only reason why 25 years later, he's still not courting her... even though he has in fact fallen in love with her years ago and now wants nothing more than to go back on his word and marry her. [A demanding, out-of-the-blue, in-character proposal would be appreciated. :]

sorry, you just can't escape all the soppy when I write.

Molly Hooper was a mild mannered and meek little girl, with an unconsolable crush on the wiry, unruly haired and unmannered Sherlock Holmes. Each was the other's only real friend.

Sherlock, a vulnerable little boy, who gained little love from his never there parents and ever less compassion from his elder and cold hearted brother Mycroft; had found Molly, the socially inept and chronically shy little girl, who, although she had few in the way of friends, was showered in love from her ever present Father and the memory of her beautiful and tragically young Mother.

"Umm, Sherlock?" Molly's voice was a fragile as she appeared, Sherlock did wonder with his ever growing intellect, how she was still so insecure even in his company, the company they had kept for nearing two years.

"Yes, Molly, what is is?" His tone was usually sharp, but the sentiment was of a much softer nature, a contradiction Molly even at her young age had become accustomed to.

"Well, it's a leap year, and today is the 29th of February."

"Do get to the point."

"Oh, ummm, yes. Daddy said that Mummy's Pa was from Ireland, so she would always tell Daddy magical traditions. She even did one, she pro…prop… Asked Daddy to marry her on a leap year, because that's the time when the lady is allowed to p…pro…"

"-propose." Sherlock interjected seeing the struggling concentration upon Molly's sweet little face. She must have been nervous for some reason, Molly was usually so adept with words, much like himself, although not quite to the same extent.

"Yes, that one… Well Daddy said that when you really love someone, you get married, because then no one else is allowed to take that love away. He also says, you know when you love someone when they smile and your heart feels warmer than it did before…" Taking a deep breath Molly continued, no matter how young she was, she understood the serious nature of her abrasive friend and the serious sentiment behind her next words, "You make my heart warm, so would you, ummm, will you marry me?" A flush of colour spread quickly and furiously across her fair skin, as she turned her deep chocolate gaze away from the taller boy's scrutiny.

"No," Sherlock scoffed. "How illogical, we are only children Molly. Why would I marry you? I plan to make a serious commitment to my future work. Either as pirate or detective, a wife would only cause distraction." He was not trying to be cruel to his only supposed friend, sometimes words fell unedited from his mouth, and even if they seemed harsh they had the backing of his friends logic and reason so people could not refute them.

Molly knew that she was being silly, this was all silly. And Sherlock was right they were children, when you're little you're meant to do silly things, focus upon friendships and mudpies, not marriage. "O-okay, I suppose you're right, you always are." Molly's gentle giggles filled the space around them as she went from heartbroken to happiness in mere seconds, just as a child would.

"Of course, I am correct Molly. Marriage is illogical. Love is illogical."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

As the years went on, Hooper and Holmes stayed as much in contact as the aloof consultant detective could maintain, his struggling years as he tried to find a release from the world and turned to the release of the cold hard drugs that matched his potentially cold dark heart, had been eased by Molly's presence. As a driving force, Molly being a constant in Sherlock's life, even as she studied dubiously at Oxford for her doctorate, was the only thing stopping Sherlock's temperate behaviour becoming as distant and heartless as his brother's nature and father's influence would dictate.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Molly's crush upon her only friend has never faded, it had grown, flourished and evolved; the passion behind it had even lead to a great fury at herself and the gaunt man in his lower days, but now it was simmering and settling into a comfortably unrequited love. Sherlock on the other hand would not even acknowledge her as more than a acquaintance… He didn't do friendship and that was the way it would remain, a least on his exterior.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

However 22 long years after Molly's pure and shy proposal, Sherlock had managed to push away, deter and out right scare any form of suitor for the sweet pathologist. It didn't mean that he liked her (he argued to himself), especially not romantically, but change disturbed and distracted him more than he would admit, and the loss of Molly to some unworthy grubby man was a change he could not face.

The new presence of John in his life, had put more distance between Molly and Sherlock whilst somehow strengthening their bond of friendship, his heart was on show with greater regularity… Even if that was still once in a blue moon.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Why won't you just admit that you like her?"

"Her, John, her?" He spat the words, trying to avoid furthering the conversation.

"Yes, Molly Hooper, Sherlock! It's clear even for the the dumb likes of me, the way you look at her, the way your eyes linger and you lips curve." John had seen it too often, it was clear Sherlock and Molly had history, but it was never spoken of, it was clear that Molly was hopelessly in love with the brooding detective and it was becoming more and more evident that Sherlock was denying something in himself about his feelings towards the woman in question.

"I'm married to my work, John. You know that and yet you still think I could have feelings for Molly." The final words dripped from his mouth like vile poison, John could not see something that wasn't there and longing for his pathologist certainly was not.
"Anyway, if you deny a proposal, you cannot go back on your word."

"What-what proposal?!"

"It is of no matter."

"Your very much mistaken Sherlock, it is of matter, when did Molly propose to you? Why?"

"I'm never mistaken John, but I shall answer your questions. When? When we were eight, on a leap year. Why? Because her skewed views of love and commitment, set from her Father's dumbed down ideals, and the broken stories of her lost Mother, meant she believed that even at that young age she somehow loved me."

"Well, she clearly loves you now. I just knew there was something, some history between you two… And for you not to delete such a memory, to give it a place in that mind palace of yours must mean something Sherlock, stop denying and burying it. THINK! Lest our walls suffer the consequences."

That left Sherlock speechless and deep within his own mind. Thinking through the hours of the night and many of the next day Sherlock realised something he was yet not able to admit to himself, about the brown haired, doe eyed woman.

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Sherlock had been sweeping into the morgue after his 'talk' with John, spotting Molly through the glassed windows a mixture of emotion momentarily flooded his system, hormones and chemical imbalances washing over him. That's when he caught his reflection in the cool steal of the cabinets, a longing in his eyes and a small upturn to the left corner of his mouth. Damn, why did John have to be correct.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Dammit. John. I love her, why would I go and do a thing like that, it's illogical, stupid?!"

"For God sake Sherlock, tell her… It's been two years since you started to admit it to yourself… just admit it to her. Tell Molly."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The cool draft that followed an alone Sherlock into Molly Hooper's office, was ominous to say the least. The fidgety look that adorned Sherlock's face filled Molly with worry, that was the face he had adorned when fighting the temptations of drug use.

"Sherlock? Sherlock, are you okay?" Her tone was filled with the worry her face conveyed and Sherlock softened his eyes at the flustered woman, his nerves where on edge and he could see why she would jump to her current conclusion.

"I'm fine Molly, really. No drugs, unless you count the naturally occurring hormones and chemicals currently coursing through my blood stream."

"Always have to be clever don't you?" Molly giggled, more relaxed around the man that had the keen skill to put her on edge.

"It's not a need Molly, I am just naturally clever." This earned him a playful hit to the arm.

Flustered, Molly realised the presence of Sherlock in her office probably meant paperwork and the completion of a not-on-her-list autopsy, "Sorry, did you want something?"

"Oh, um, yes." Why am I stuttering?… I don't um. "Yes, as you are most likely aware, it's a leap year. Leap day in fact, and as you know I'm not one for tradition or magic."

Molly was rather confused, this conversation seemed strangely reversed, reminiscent even. "Yes? I'm well aware."

"Well… Someone quite brilliant once told me that when you really love someone, you get married, because then no one else is allowed to take that love away. They also told me that you know when you love someone when they smile and your heart feels warmer than it did before… And you, Molly Hooper, make my once cold heart warm. Will you marry me?" There it was, a less stuttered mirror image of a 24 year old conversation, even though less planned than young Molly's version.

"Sherlock… Are you mocking me, at a delayed rate of 24 years? Because that's really not very funny."

"I know I've said I'm married to my work, but I've regretted refusing your proposal for the past ten years, and have admitted that to myself for the past two years. Molly Anne Hooper, you're not my friend, you're so much more, and I love you." She could see the genuine emotion in his eyes, he was telling the truth, she could always tell when he lied. So she kissed him, firmly and passionately. They broke apart breathlessly, clear smiles upon their faces.

"I'll take that as a yes then." Sherlock stated smugly.

"Yes, you silly brilliant man. Of course yes!"