Chapter Thirteen

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I woke up the next day, still not quite able to believe what had happened the day before.

"Morning, Sherlock." I said as I turned over to lay on my side.

"Morning, Gorgeous." He said back with a smile.

I held my hand up and admired my ring.

"It really is beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as the woman wearing it." He replied.

He planted a soft kiss on my forehead then got up out of bed and put his dressing gown on.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Sherlock asked.

"Just whatever you're having, I'm not fussed."

I got up myself and made my way out into the kitchen and sat at one of the chairs.

"Oh my God," I said.

"What?" Sherlock said worriedly.

"Nothing, I just realised we can tell John we're engaged when he gets up."

"You're what?" I heard coming from behind me.

"Morning John!" I said as I held my hand up, "we're engaged."

"Oh my, that's fantastic! Come here, you."

John embraced me for, what felt like, an eternity.

"You too, Sherlock, get your arse over here."

Sherlock made his way over to us and stuck his hand out, but John wasn't having any of it and he pulled him into the hug. I looked over in his direction and couldn't help but smile to myself, he looked so uncomfortable.

"Yes, yes that's enough now, John." He said whilst smoothing his dressing gown out and looking down at his feet.

"Bloody hell, mate, cut me some slack, I've just found out my best friend is getting married, surely I'm allowed to hug you!"

"You're what is getting married?" He asked, confusedly.

"My best friend." John repeated, confusedly, almost questioning what he had just said.

"Oh, right."

"Go on, what. What are you thinking?"

"Nothing, I just, well, I never expected to be anybody's best friend," Sherlock glanced over at me, "but I suppose if I am your best friend then you'd know enough about me to give an acceptable best man."

"Oh my God, Sherlock, yes," John said while wiping a tear away, " it'll be the best best man speech there's ever been.

"I know it will." Sherlock said whilst smiling at John.

I smiled at both of them then excused myself to go and get ready for work.

"Molly, why are you going in?" Sherlock pleaded.

"I'm going in because I have to and because I'm going to keep going to work until I have to stop going."

"Yeah but."

"Yeah but nothing, Sherlock, I'm going to work so get used to it."

I grabbed my bag off the chair and left the flat and got into a cab and made my way to work.

My phone buzzed in my bag. It was a text from Sherlock.

Don't be mad at me, it's only because I care about you. I love you. x

I didn't feel like replying, after all, I'd probably be seeing him later, barely a day goes by when he doesn't saunter into the lab to analyse someone's shoelaces or some bloody footprints he's found in some boarding school.

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