First of all, I am really sorry for the delay but I've worked real hard on this one. And I know I said there were two chapters left but I decided to combine both of them and send it as one. So, here's the epilogue of this story, folks. A sixteen-chaptered-journey ends right here. *sigh* As much as it saddens me to end this story, it really is for the best. Sherlock and Molly got together in the end no matter what obstacles they've faced all along the way and now I present you the last stop of this journey: Their Happy Ending.

One last thing; I am giving all of you a big, imaginary hug for being there with me all along the way and I cannot even begin to describe how much you guys made me happy by reviewing and following this story and those who put this in their favourites... Well, what can I say? All of you are precious like a diamond to me. I am not exaggerating it. All of you were the reason why I kept writing this story or I would have finished it off at like... probably the third chapter or something.

So... Thank you. Thank you soo much! I appreciate everything.

Enjoy the last chapter! (':

A/N: English is not my native language so please ignore my grammar mistakes if there are any. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this fanfiction. All credit goes to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and BBC.

A/N: This story has been beta'd by Bellarsam Chrisjulittle since the eleventh chapter and I gotta say, she really is a great person. She has been patient with me, counsulting me every now and then, fixing my mistakes and etc. So, yeah. Dearie, thank you so much for everything so far and I am glad you offered to be my beta because that really meant a lot. I appreciate all your helps. Thank you so much for everything! Til next time... xo

Sherlock and Molly had been searching Mrs. Hudson's flat for half an hour now, and Molly could see Sherlock getting more and more angry every second. Normally, it would take Sherlock only five minutes to see all of the evidence, but today he basically couldn't see anything. He knew the evidence was right in front of his eyes but he just couldn't get himself to focus right. His emotions, his worries about Mrs. Hudson, were getting in his way. And at that moment, he remembered why he hated sentiment. It would always hurt him and his beloved ones in the end.

Molly saw him swearing under his breath while pacing, and she slowly moved closer to him, trying not to startle him. "Sherlock?" She touched his shoulder lightly and waited for a response but got nothing from him. He just stood there, not pacing anymore. His breathing slowed down from being so rapid, and Molly could see his features were becoming softer.

With sadness in his eyes, he turned around to face her. Molly caressed his cheek with her hand and gave him a small smile. The last thing she wanted was for Sherlock to panic and lose control. He started thinking about the whole "sentiment is found on the losing side" thing, and it was only hurting him more. He always hid his true feelings, but he cared for Mrs. Hudson deeply. And now he stood in the middle of her flat, trying to find the missing pieces of this new puzzle. But there was nothing whatsoever that indicated Mrs. Hudson's being missing.

When he finally looked around the flat, he saw a big mess. A big mess he created. All her clothes were thrown to the floor, all her drawers were open wide...yet, there was still nothing. Sherlock huffed and took Molly's hand in his angrily. "Stop," he ordered her. Her caresses were fogging his mind, and the last thing he needed was distraction. "Molly, why don't you go upstairs and wait for me to return?" he demanded more gently. He tried to sound as calm as he could, but it still sounded like he snapped at her.

Molly's eyebrows furrowed. "But I want to help you search the flat."

Sherlock gritted his teeth. "But you're not helping staying here."

Molly tugged her hand out of his angrily. "You think I'm a distraction, don't you?"

"I don't think you're a distraction, I know you are a distraction." He narrowed his eyes at her. A few hours ago, he saw her as a loving, beautiful woman in his life. Right now, all he saw was a whiny, persistent woman with unreasonable stubbornness.

"You're doing it again," Molly deadpanned, trying to hold her tears back. "That sentiment is a weakness crap. You're doing it again, and you don't even care if it hurts me or not." She stormed out of the room at full speed. She went upstairs and packed her purse, deciding to go for a walk. Maybe she would call Mycroft and search for Mrs. Hudson with him instead of Sherlock. But that'd be like betraying Sherlock, so she dismissed the thought immediately.

She got out of 221B fiercely, shutting the door behind her as hard as she could. It was cold outside, so she put her scarf around her neck and folded her arms across her chest. How everything had come to this she had no idea. Just this morning they were shopping together happily. But now, one of the most important people in their lives was missing, and Sherlock couldn't focus on anything. Plus, he blamed Molly for that last part.

Molly sighed as she decided to go for a walk, but then she noticed Speedy's Shop on her right side. She knew if she didn't look inside the place, she would feel guilty later for not doing so now. But the door was locked when she tried it, and it wasn't a good time to call for a locksmith. She sighed and turned around to face no one other than the elder Holmes brother.

"Miss Hooper," he greeted her. He was just like his younger brother: always sneaking up on other people, catching them off guard.

Molly rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Mycroft?"

He huffed. "Just wanted to inform you that Mrs. Hudson is not missing at all."

Molly's eyes opened wide, and she opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. Then she took a deep breath and tried again. "What?" was the only thing she managed to get out of her trembling mouth.

Just then, a long black car pulled over and Mycroft showed the car with his hand, gesturing her to it. "Please, Miss Hooper. I suppose we should discuss this in private."

Molly gave him a long stare before getting into the car. Mycroft sat right beside her and sighed before starting to explain the whole thing to her.

"Mrs. Hudson isn't missing. She never has been. She just... came up with the stupidest idea on earth."

Molly arched a brow at him. "What idea?"

"To celebrate Sherlock's birthday." He uttered every word of the sentence as if it was something disturbing to say. Mycroft Holmes appearently hated birthdays. "Mrs. Hudson contacted me a few days ago to talk to me about Sherlock's upcoming birthday. We met at Speedy's Shop, and she told me that she wanted to celebrate Sherlock's birthday this year. I rejected it immediately, of course. But then she was so sad and she told me I was her only chance so..."

"You couldn't break her heart," Molly said as she smiled widely. She finally understood why Mycroft acted so...unconcerned about this whole Mrs. Hudson being missing deal. He was calm and reckless because she wasn't missing or kidnapped at all.

Mycroft Holmes only snorted in return. "She's an old lady. Declining her wishes wouldn't suit a gentleman."

"In this case, that gentleman is you, I assume," Molly teased, and her smile grew wider. She felt happy, and the only reason to that was because Mrs. Hudson was not missing or kidnapped or having any amnesia at all.

Mycroft Holmes gave her a fake smile, not making his frustration show, before contiuning. "She is currently staying with John and Mary Watson."

Molly's forehead creased. "But... how is this going to get Sherlock to go to the party?"

That's when, for the first time that day, Mycroft Holmes' face formed a small, genuine smile. "Martha Hudson is actually a very smart woman. A remarkable one indeed. She told me she was going to do this Sherlock's way. She told me she was going to turn this into a case. John and Mary Watson gave her the idea of using Mary's old house, the one she stayed in before marrying Dr. Watson. However, she didn't know how to plant any evidence to lead Sherlock straight to Mary Watson's previous house."

"That was where you went in," Molly deduced the obvious.

Mycroft Holmes nodded. "Indeed. So now I want you to go in there and make sure Sherlock finds this piece of paper in Mrs. Hudson's flat." Mycroft handed Molly a note with an address written on it. It was obviously Mary's home address, and because neither Sherlock nor Molly had ever been there before, he wouldn't know what the address stood for and want to search it.

"How am I going to make him find this?" Molly asked.

"You can act like you found it in Mrs. Hudson's flat and give it to Sherlock. He will obviously wonder what the address is for and he will want to check it out. But remember: you have to stall him off for one more day. His birthday is tomorrow and Mrs. Hudson decided that the party will be exactly at eight p.m."

Molly smirked and clapped her hands like a child, feeling that she had never been happier before. Sherlock was going to have a big party for his birthday, and people who cared for him were planning it. It was going to be hard stalling him off for one more day, but she knew she could manage that just fine.

"Alright," she said, and was about to get out of the car when she remembered something. Molly turned around and pecked Mycroft on the check. "You're actually a really good man, Mycroft. Thank you for doing this," she said happily and got out of the car, leaving a dumbfounded Mycroft behind. No one had ever said something like that to him. He was known as the iceman, thanks to Irene Adler, and he always believed her to actually be a goldfish. Yet, it seemed like there were actually people who cared for him too, after all.

With a genuine smile on his face, he waved at the driver to start the engine. They were going to the mall to buy Sherlock a present for his birthday.

Molly entered the flat silently and saw Sherlock playing his violin by the window, his fingers performing a sad melody. Now that she knew the whole truth about Mrs. Hudson being missing, it was going to be hard to keep it from him. He looked sad, and it broke Molly's heart. If only he knew the truth...

She silently creeped up behind him but she knew he heard her come. His fingers stopped playing the sad melody when she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind him. He sighed and put the violin on the table beside the window. He then turned around and faced her. She still held her arms around his waist, not letting him go. She stared at him for a few seconds before putting her head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat. It was the most soothing thing ever for her.

A few minutes passed in silence, the only sound being the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace, and then finally Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. He put his chin on top of her head, smelling the faint smell of lavender shampoo she had used earlier this morning. Her heart was racing fast, but then again it could be his too, so he didn't give much thought to it.

Moments passed where they only held each other tight. Molly finally looked up at Sherlock and saw the sadness in his eyes. It pained her to see him like this, but tomorrow everything was going to get better. So she clenched her mouth shut to not to let anything slip away.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier today," he whispered to her as he leaned his head closer to hers. Their foreheads touched, and she gave him a small smile.

"I'm sorry too," she whispered back and tiptoed to put a peck on his beautiful lips. That's when an idea popped up in Molly's head.

Sherlock was about to kiss her back when she pulled back from him slightly. "Why don't we... uhmm..." she started off and bit her lower lip on purpose, knowing he would notice it. Then she put her hands on his neck, caressing it with her fingertips lightly. She noticed how his eyes watched every single move she performed. Her voice was a low whisper when she kept talking: "...take a nice, warm bath and relax? Maybe then..." She stopped midsentence again and tugged the collar of his shirt with her little hands, pulling his body to hers slowly. "...Then you can think clearer and solve this case easily." When she finally finished her sentence, she put both of her hands on his cheeks and pulled him down to her for a passionate kiss.

Sherlock was overwhelmed by the way Molly seduced him and felt all his stress going already. He let her drag him to the bathroom; they never once broke the kiss on their way there. When they finally reached the bathroom, Molly closed the door behind them slowly and started unbuttoning his shirt. They then both stripped each other naked, taking their time, seizing the moment.

Sherlock turned on the tap and waited until the water was warm enough for both of them. They both got into the bathtub, and Sherlock settled Molly on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. Molly smiled at him and planted a small kiss on his neck, caressing his right arm up and down. The sensation it gave him made him smile and he captured her lips, ravishing them with his own. The kiss was slow, sloppy and full of unspoken emotions they both shared for each other. He nipped her lower lip and bit it lightly, earning a soft moan from Molly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with his thick black curls delightfully.

Minutes passed where their tongues danced, their hands roaming each other's bodies. Sherlock finally couldn't take it anymore and settled her on his lap, where her legs were wrapped around his waist, his erected cock touching her pelvis. She grinned at how hard he was for her and slowly pushed her hips against his, hearing him growl her name.

But before she could continue, Sherlock grabbed her hips and stopped her. "Molly..." he began, but Molly cut him off. She knew he was going to say something like I need to find more evidence, we don't have time for this, but she wasn't going to let him say that. She had to distract him until tomorrow.

"Sherlock." She put her hands on his cheeks and stared him right in the eye. "You are tired, you are stressed, and you cannot keep going on like this. If you want to find Mrs. Hudson and the evidence you say that you can't see, then you have to empty your mind. You need to relax."

Sherlock sighed and nodded a few seconds later. He knew she was right. He had to relax and sex was always a good way to get rid of stress. If he could relax and empty his mind, then he could get back to his job with a clearer point of view. He had to consider Mrs. Hudson as another victim who went missing and himself as the client. It was hard, but not impossible.

Then he finally gave up thinking and gave himself to Molly and her marvelous body.

The next morning, Sherlock woke up to see that Molly was not beside him. But the curtains were wide open, and he could hear the kettle boiling in the kitchen. Sherlock looked at the clock to see it was two p.m. in the afternoon and literally jumped from the bed and put on his formal clothes, feeling ready to finally thoroughly investigate this case. He was energic but also angry because he woke up so late. He wondered why Molly didn't wake him up, but then he thought she probably did it so he could relax more.

When he went to the kitchen, he saw that the table was ready, and Molly was wearing nothing but his shirt. He smiled at the scene in front of him and coughed, making his presence known.

Molly turned around and saw him standing there with a big smile on his face. "Good morning," she said and pecked his lips on her tiptoes. "I made omelettes and coffee, black and two sugars."

He smiled at her, and they both started eating their breakfast silently. When they were both finished eating, he excused himself and went back down to Mrs. Hudson's flat, searching for evidence. Molly smiled to herself, knowing it was a matter of time before he found the piece of paper with Mary Watson's former address on it. She had put it under the carpet, a place Sherlock would eventually look. She took a sip of her coffee and started watching TV.

Five minutes later, she finally heard Sherlock's voice from downstairs.

"I've found it, Molly!"

He came running upstairs. He was holding the paper in his hand, waving it to her so she could see what he found.

Molly acted surprised and took the paper from him. "But, what is this?"

"This is obviously an address and I'm going to go there now," he said and made to get his coat, but Molly grabbed his arm tightly.

"Sherlock, wait!" She tried to come up with a plan to stop him from going there now. "You can't go there now!"

Sherlock's brows furrowed and he tilted his head. "May I ask why exactly?"

"Because...Because if you go now, in the middle of the day, the kidnappers might see you. We should go there in the evening, when it's dark enough outside." She stood there, thinking she had failed, that she had failed to persuade him and now he was going to figure out everything. I'm screwed, she thought to herself but kept her cool posture.

Sherlock looked at her for a few seconds and then huffed. "We don't even know if she is kidnapped or not, Molly. This is just a piece of paper with an address on it. Kidnappers wouldn't just leave random addresses flying around the place, now, would they?"

Molly sighed. "I suppose not. But, what does the address stand for, then?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I don't know. But you're right about one thing. If she is indeed kidnapped, the daylight wouldn't be an advantage to us. Going there after dark might be a better idea."

Molly sighed and watched Sherlock going back to Mrs. Hudson's flat, to find more evidence about the address. She immediately texted Mycroft.

Next time, you're going to be the one to distract him. xM

Did something go wrong, Miss Hooper? –MH

No, thank God. But it almost did. Do you have any idea of how hard it is to fool a man like Sherlock? xM

No, Miss Hooper. Because I always succeeded in fooling him. -MH

We'll be at Mrs. Watson's apartment at eight p.m. Don't be late or early. –MH

You arrogant, cocky bastard, Molly thought and went downstairs to act like she was helping Sherlock out. She never felt the time go so slowly before.

Sherlock was pacing around the flat, looking out the window to see if it was dark enough now. Molly looked at the clock and saw that it was six o'clock. She couldn't keep him at home any longer, she knew that. Soon, the sunlight was going to leave itself to darkness, and Molly had no more tricks to come up with. No more lovemaking sessions would work. She'd even considered putting sedatives in his tea, but then they'd be late when he finally woke up. She couldn't risk it either.

They waited for half an hour more when Sherlock finally couldn't take it anymore. "We're leaving," he said and called for a cab.

Molly texted Mycroft without Sherlock seeing her.

We're going to be early. Get yourselves ready. xM

You couldn't distract him for an hour more? I had high hopes of you Miss Hooper. Turns out I was wrong. –MH

Know that when I get there, the first thing I'll do is to kick your ass, Mycroft. xM

She of course didn't get a reply to that. Sherlock told the driver to be as fast as he could and handed him the address. No words were spoken on their way to the building, and Molly was really nervous.

When they finally reached the apartment, Sherlock gave the driver more than what it cost and told him to keep the change. He ran to the building, picking the lock easily. Molly was right behind him when they entered the flat written on the address. He picked its lock too and got into the flat with small steps, Molly following him behind.

The flat was pitch dark and it was really, really silent that for a moment Molly thought no one was there to surprise Sherlock at all.

But then suddenly all the lights were on and everyone screamed "Happy Birthday, Sherlock!" at the same time. The first thing Sherlock saw was Mrs. Hudson standing there with a small—probably homemade—birthday cake and the biggest smile on her face. His eyebrows furrowed, not following anything. Even Mycroft was there, standing beside John. On John's other side was Mary, and beside her was Lestrade. Anderson and Donovan were behind Lestrade, and beside them stood Mike Stamford.

He looked beside him to see Molly smiling at him, clapping her hands along with the others. He was more bewildered than he had ever been in his entire life.

Sherlock held his hands in the air, stopping everyone abruptly. "What the hell is going on here?"

Everyone fell silent for a moment but then Mrs. Hudson stepped forward, still holding the cake. "Today's your birthday, sweetie."

"I'm aware of that Mrs. Hudson. I'm also aware of the fact that you were supposed to have been missing," Sherlock snapped at her.

"Aren't you happy she is not missing, Sherlock?" John stepped forward.

"What nonsense is all these?" Sherlock yelled.

That's when Mycroft finally stepped in and told him about the whole thing that Mrs. Hudson had planned. He didn't skip one detail, explaining everything to him. After a few minutes of Mycroft's words sinking in, Sherlock finally looked around himself to see the house was decorated brilliantly. Also, the cake Mrs. Hudson made looked delicious.

"Remarkable plan, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said and bowed his head a little, no longer feeling angry at the woman in question. He'd always thought she was a smart person who didn't show it much, but this plan was the biggest proof to see she was indeed a smart person.

Mary put a few candles on top of the cake and placed it on the table, dragging Sherlock by the arm to stand in front of the cake. "You have to make a wish before blowing out all the candles," Mary told him.

Everyone surrounded the table, watching him with curious eyes as he unwillingly blew out all the candles. He rolled his eyes as everyone hugged him one by one, wishing him many happy returns. He'd always hated birthdays, but this one wasn't really that bad. He was now hugged by Mrs. Hudson, who whispered to him: "You are loved, Sherlock. Do not ever forget that."

That made him smile as he whispered back at the woman he saw as another mother but never admitted it. "I am so glad you are not missing, Martha. The world would collapse without your presense."

They both shared a smile before Molly came to hug him. "You were distracting me the whole time yesterday," he stated.

Molly bit her lower lip. "Yes. But I think I did quite a good job at it." She grinned at him as he pulled her for a hug.

"I love you, Sherlock," she whispered into the crook of his neck, her breath tickling him a little.

"I love you too, Molly Hooper," he whispered back. Molly, with wide eyes, looked up at him and saw him looking at her with a genuine smile on his face. His eyes were bright, and she could see how happy he finally was.

That's when Lestrade spoke. "We have to take a picture!" he yelled and wanted everyone to come to the middle of the room. Lestrade put the camera on top of the farthest bookshelf, timing it to take a picture automatically after a minute. John and Mary were on the right side of Sherlock, and on his left side stood Molly and Mrs. Hudson. In front them were Donovan, Anderson, Mike Stamford and Lestrade. Mycroft didn't want to be in the picture but Molly dragged him by the arm and made him stand right beside her.

"Say cheese!" Lestrade said and then the camera clicked, letting them know the picture was taken. They all looked at the photo and everyone started complaining about how ugly, fat and ridiculous they looked, but none of them offered to delete the picture.

Everyone started chatting as Sherlock dragged Molly to a silent corner. Everyone was busy arranging their gifts to give to Sherlock, so Sherlock took the oppurtunity to have a moment with Molly.

"So, where is my present?" he asked her, cocking an eyebrow.

Molly pouted. "I am sorry. I didn't have any time to buy you something." But then she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I can be your gift, if you would like," she offered, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Oh I would love that." And he kissed her, tenderly but passionately.

"Hey, lovebirds, it's gift time!" John announced to the kissing couple and they seperated immediately, both blushing red.

Sherlock finally knew that he had everything he needed in life: A woman he loved, and people he cared about, who also loved him back. He knew sentiment had changed him, but he no longer thought that it was for the weak. No. He thought that these people weren't his weakness but his strength. So he was very thankful to the one person who made him this sentimental in the first place: Molly.

The woman who counted and the one person that mattered the most.

*phew* That was a long one, wasn't it? Well, I hope you read it till the end and enjoyed it. I'd like to hear your last thoughts about this whole story so I'd LOVE it if you left a review. Because they make my day!

Thank you so much everyone, thank you sooo much!

'Till another Sherlolly fanfiction...

Sincerely

louvreangel xoxo