Author's note: I am both sad and happy this is the final chapter for this story. Sad, because I love writing for my married Sherlock and Molly, and I enjoyed researching the details about Los Angeles. Happy, because of all my stories, this has had the least response from readers, so I guess married/fluffy Sherlolly is not something a lot of people are interested in. (I do know some people are interested only in the slow burn of them getting together, and lose interest after that, so fair enough.) I also discovered that the specific people I did the T-rating for, who I knew are more sensitive readers, weren't interested in this one anyway, so the extra work of doing two versions was not really worth the effort. Lesson learned. Those who do seem to enjoy all my stories are okay with my conservative M-rated stories.

If you have taken the time to read though, it would be nice to hear from readers to send this off with a bit of a bang, rather than a whimper. I could use a bit of encouragement right now, as I continue to struggle with the tendonitis that has been troubling me for several months now, but I am learning to live with chronic pain. It is humbling and helps me feel empathy for those of my friends/readers who also struggle with pain on a daily basis.

After a day of relaxing in the hotel room, and ordering room service for a quiet dinner, Molly was looking forward to the evening ahead. The idea of going into a nightclub and being "picked up" by her husband, as if they were strangers, was a little exciting. Role-playing at its best, she decided - on location role-playing.

"So, how are we going to do this, love?" asked Sherlock, watching as she put on makeup in front of the bathroom mirror. He had already shaved and was looking devastatingly handsome as he always did.

She spoke to his reflection in the mirror, even as she applied a hint of blush to her cheeks. "Well, you know how my dream went, but I don't want it to be exactly the same. The only things I want are for you to flirt with me, take me onto the dance floor and give me a kiss as hot as the one that was in my dream."

Sherlock put his arms around her from behind. "I wish I could crawl inside your head to see exactly what that kiss looked like so I could recreate it properly." He slid her hair aside to kiss her neck, and she hastily put down the blush brush. Thank heavens she had not been in the middle of applying mascara when he did that. She would probably have ended up jabbing herself in the eye with the mascara wand.

"You couldn't do that anyway. In my dream you pressed up really close against me. That isn't possible now that I'm seven months pregnant," she pointed out, rubbing the evidence of that fact.

"I shall just have to improvise then," he said, kissing her neck again, then nibbling delicately at her earlobe.

"Save it for the nightclub, honey," she scolded, a little breathlessly.

He released her with a pout and waited for her to finish getting ready, much to her relief. He was such a distracting man.

As they went downstairs to the hotel lobby, Molly issued more instructions. "Give me a couple minutes to order my drink. I'll look for a bar stool that has another empty next to it and put my handbag on there to save it, okay?"

"Alright," her husband agreed, as his lips twitched in amusement. "Do you want to go in by yourself or should we go in together, and then I go and hide away somewhere for a few minutes?"

Molly darted a glance up at him. "I'm in a scary, strange country. What do you think?"

Sherlock chuckled, and brushed a kiss to her temple. "We'll go in together and I'll disappear for a few minutes, then look for you at the bar, okay?"

"Perfect," she agreed, beaming at him.

They entered the nightclub, and Molly headed towards the rear of the nightclub where she could vaguely make out the bar. Off to the right was a dance floor, and Sherlock headed in that direction.

Molly found a bar stool that was empty along with one next to it on which she placed her handbag. She waited patiently for the bartender to see her, then ordered a Shirley Temple. At least it looked like alcohol, she thought, looking around. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen so she began to sip her drink. She was just starting to get a little anxious when a rich baritone voice came from directly behind her.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

She turned to look at the handsome, curly-haired man who stood behind her. Then, taking her handbag off the stool, she gave him a seductive smile and purred, "It is now."

The sexy man slid onto the stool and beckoned the bartender. "Can I get you another drink?" he asked, after ordering a beer for himself.

"I'm fine right now, thanks so much," she answered coyly, reaching a hand up to casually flick aside her hair so her neck was exposed.

He gave her a smouldering look, raising his own hand to stroke a thumb delicately down her neck and her heart immediately began to pound at his delicate touch. "Sooooo," he drawled, "what's a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?"

she batted her eyelashes at him. "Just looking to have a little bit of fun, you know, a bit of flirtation, a bit of dancing."

The stranger accepted his beer, paid, and took a sip. "I hope you will allow me to be your companion for this evening," he said, giving another look which made her feel weak at the knees.

Such a charmer, she thought, loving the way his deep voice filled her ears and sent her senses spinning. "I, uh, yes, that sounds nice," she responded, rather breathlessly. Oh this was so much fun. "So, uh, what brings you here this evening?" she asked, taking a fortifying sip of her own drink.

"Oh, I'm on the prowl, darlin', and looking for someone special to share my evening with-" here, he paused and licked his lips in a way that caused her stomach to clench, then added silkily, "and possibly the whole night." He gave her yet another sexy look.

At this rate, she was not going to be able to keep up the charade too long. He had become extremely adept at flirting.

She gently put a hand on the "stranger's" leg. "I've always wondered what it would be like to be with a man who has black hair and lovely curls." She gave him a coquettish glance of her own.

Her companion drew in his breath. He placed his hand over top of hers. "I'm thinking, pretty lady, that I'd really like to take you onto the dance floor - what do you say?"

Molly swallowed, feeling as if her heart was about to beat out of her chest. Why was this so incredibly erotic? she wondered, a little dazedly. "I'd like that," she managed, allowing the handsome man to assist her off of her stool.

"Perhaps you should take your handbag," he suggested. "No telling what might happen to it otherwise." She reached over to take one last sip of her drink, knowing she would not be back to finish it, and he did the same with his beer.

Then she picked up her handbag, as he had suggested. Luckily it was a small one with a long strap that she was easily able to sling over her shoulder. She did so and the man took her hand, leading her onto the dance floor.

He positioned them to within the sightline of the DJ, and she noticed her husband make a signal to the man. The DJ nodded and Molly was curious as to what that was all about. Nevertheless, she started to sway with the music as she reached her hands up to tease Sherlock's curls with her fingers, while he rested his hands at her non-existent waist. Molly noticed a few sly glances being sent their way. Either pregnant women did not often hit the dance floor, or they recognised her famous husband. Either way, she didn't care, as long as nobody interrupted their little playacting.

The song finished and another one started. Molly caught her breath. Now she understood what was going on between the DJ and Sherlock. The song was Ed Sheeran's The Shape of You, which was the song, as well as the conversation with Meena earlier on that day which had initially prompted that uni dream from months earlier.

Sherlock slid his hands up her body to settle them on her shoulders and leaned in closer. "So what do you think of this song, pretty little lady?" he asked in a very seductive voice that was fast making her lose her grip on reality.

His hands massaged her shoulders gently. "It's...it's very sexy," she managed.

"Not as sexy as you are," he responded, and then he lowered his lips to hers, moving his hands to frame her face as he did so.

The kiss he gave her was so sensuous, so seductive that her heart started pounding again, harder than it had earlier. She felt as if she were drowning in that kiss. A little dizzily, she thought it was every bit as hot as the dream one. Kissing this way on a dance floor, surrounded by other people doing similar activities or not, was extremely erotic.

She grasped her beloved's curls, feeling those silky strands, as the song continued to play. Her husband continued to kiss her for the entire song, and she was panting by the end of it.

Once the song ended, she said breathlessly, "Uh, handsome stranger, would you like to come up to my hotel room?" He was breathing hard as well, she noticed.

"I thought you'd never ask," he told her, sliding an arm around her middle and leading her off the dance floor. Molly was very glad she had her handbag with her so there was no need to return to the bar.

Keeping up the charade, as soon as they were out of the nightclub, Molly took her conquest by the hand. "My hotel is this way," she said, giving him a look that told him in no uncertain terms what she wanted when they got there.

She led him into the lobby, then the elevator. As they were the only ones in the elevator, Sherlock took the opportunity to kiss her again passionately, driving her wild with need for him.

On their floor, she pulled out the keycard and inserted it into the reader, unlocking it. No sooner were they inside than Sherlock began kissing her again, hungrily. "I really want you right now," her husband told her as he stroked her back, then moved his hands to caress her breasts through the fabric of the maternity dress.

"I want you too," she gasped, moving her own hands to feel his very sexy bum.

He propelled her towards the bed and was about to lay her down upon it when she stopped him. "Uh, I need to freshen up a bit," she told him, rather than saying she needed the loo. It was sexier that way.

Her husband chuckled. "Of course, sexy lady, by all means, go and 'freshen up', if you must."

Molly dashed into the bathroom to empty her bladder. Afterwards, she cast a quick glance in the mirror. Yep, her lips had lost their lipstick, but were red enough from being thoroughly kissed. When she exited the bathroom, she gasped at the sight that met her eyes.

Her very naughty, very sexy husband had completely disrobed and was laying on the bed in all his naked glory. Oh my, but he was so hot, and it was obvious he was anxious to get things moving rather quickly between them.

Switching out of the charade, he told her, "I think you are wearing entirely too many clothes for my liking, Mrs. Holmes."

"You had better undress me then," she told him, moistening her lips and sliding onto the bed, then lifting her arms so he could divest her of her dress. He lost no time after that in helping her shed the rest of her clothes until she was laying next to him and he was kissing her again, caressing, then kissing her breasts as she moaned in pleasure.

His hands moved along her body, evoking those sensations that always drove her wild with desire for him. She quivered under the sensual movements of Sherlock's touch, surrendering to the sensations that washed over her, leaving her gasping.

Then he was kissing her yet again, before moving to a more accommodating position for them to make love. And make love they did, glorying in the ecstasy of passion that swirled about them, causing their hearts to beat as one.

In the aftermath of spent passion, Sherlock murmured, "Molly, I definitely think we need to do more of these lovely role-plays. I already have an idea."

Molly snuggled into his embrace. "And what kind of role would that be?"

"Well, you like The Princess Bride, don't you?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

Her lips curved upwards. She had a feeling she knew what was coming. "You know I do."

"I thought next time you can dress as a princess and I'll be a pirate."

Molly giggled. Yup, she'd thought as much. "Well, we already have that pirate costume for you, but I'll need a princess one, and it might be best to wait until I get my figure back after the baby is born."

His hold on her tightened. "I suppose that would be more practical."

She peeped up at him. "Oh, and when the time comes, can I request that when you wear the pirate shirt, you keep it open so I can see your chest?"

"Possibly." He kissed her hair and rubbed her belly gently. "Oh, I think we woke her," he noted, as his lips quirked. "I think she is a bit cross."

Molly felt their baby moving within her, marvelling at that little life which, even now, was perfectly formed inside her and just needed to grow some more before being born. "She's not cross, she's just responding to the sound of her daddy's voice," she told him, with a soft, loving smile at her wonderful husband.

Soon they would be going home, back to London to await the birth of their child. Their holiday had been a lot of fun, but she was ready for their next big adventure - parenthood.

"I love you, Sherlock," she murmured sleepily, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"I love you too, Molly, my Molly," he responded, as his own lips kissed her hair.

Soon they were both asleep and dreaming of the next chapter in their lives together.

Author's note 2: If you have yet to read What if we Met at Uni? Molly's Dream, well, that has a very hot nightclub scene. If you've read both - which one do you think was hotter? I hope you enjoyed their little "re-creation", and the story in general.

If you do like the continuing story of my version Sherlock and Molly, please let me know. Don't forget, your follows/favourites will show your support for me as well, in that other people might see your profile, look at your favourites list, and decide to try out one of my stories as a result. I'd love to widen my circle of readers!