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“Sherlock, we need to talk.”
His spine straightened as he heard her voice come through the door. Slowly, he turned to face her, dread growing the pit of his stomach.
She walked up to him quickly and took his hand, pulling him to sit on the couch as she settled in his lap, kissing him deeply and making his heart rate slow down.
She pulled back and ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. “Hey, we’re ok, don’t worry. I just wanted to ask you a question.”
His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her closer, burying his face in her neck and nodding his head once.
Molly looked around the sitting room of 221B, where samples of fabric and wedding invites were haphazardly mixed with case notes and photos. The miniature replica of the church and the hall, including tiny dolls that represented each guest. The long list of the gift registry was also there, reminding Molly of one just of many compromises they’d been making for the last few months.
“Sherlock, is this what you want?” Molly asked quietly, continuing to stroke Sherlock’s hair.
He sighed deeply but was quiet for a while. “I want you,” he said eventually, his voice muffled by her collar.
“I want you, too. I’ve always wanted you. But I’m asking about…” she waved her hand vaguely around the room. “All of this...madness.”
Sherlock lifted his head from her, his eyes falling on the very same items that hers had before flitting to her own eyes. “It’s...not what you want?”
Molly blinked at him: she hadn’t been expecting that answer from him at all. All this time, she had thought that all of the wedding plans they had were because he had seemed to be genuinely excited about them. He’d suggested the church where her parents had married, had helped her shop for the dress, had made more of this wedding than the Watsons’ by far. She’d been just as excited at first, but as it grew more and more she had become more anxious, holding her tongue through most of it since she was happy to see what she thought was Sherlock’s enthusiasm. Looking into his face now, she realized that she had been completely wrong.
She started to giggle.
It turned into outright laughter as Sherlock’s confused brow furrowed even further. Molly kissed him again, hugging him tightly first before letting out a relieved sigh.
“Mary was right! Of course she was right,” Molly’s smile widened. “Sherlock, I don’t want this type of wedding. I’ve never wanted this kind of wedding! And I’m so sorry that I didn’t talk to you about this earlier.”
“Oh thank God.” He let out his own sigh of relief. “I don’t either! I thought that’s what you wanted so I was trying to compromise and give you the best wedding you could have.”
“All I want is something small and quiet and most of all, I just want to be married to you . Everything else can go hang!”
Sherlock kissed her lips quickly, then he smiled widely at her. “Surely, not everything ?”
__
The Kensington registry office was one where Sherlock’s parents had gotten married, so it seemed fitting. Sentimental, even. And Sherlock was right: Molly was glad she kept the dress and flowers she’d picked and agreed on him taking care that the invitations sent where nothing but a text message with a date and coordinates.
As if on cue, it poured rain the moment they stepped outside for the first time as husband and wife.To Molly though, it was all just part of an all around, absolutely perfect day.
