"Dance with me?" You offered as you tightened your dressing gown and basked in the early morning sun that flooded the living room of 221B.

"Now?" Sherlock asked as he placed his still warm mug in the coffee table and smoothed his pajama t-shirt before taking your hand.

"Why not? You love dancing and it's been a while since we've been able to be intimate, you know with the cases and late nights at the morgue," you explained as you entwined your fingers and lead him to the empty space in front of the cluttered dinning table.

"You make a very persuasive argument. But first, we need music," he said as he fiddled with the iPod until he found the track he was after, and the room burst to life with the gentle romantic tones of his infamous violin, "There that's better."

"What song is this?" You asked with a smile as Sherlock positioned you and him in the perfect starting position of the waltz.

His voice was soft as a light pink blush dusted his pale cheeks, "It's called an ode to Y/n L/n -Holmes."

"You wrote music for me? Oh Sherlock, it's beyond beautiful!" You beamed as the pair of you twirled in perfect sync.

"It's the least I could do to celebrate our anniversary," he grinned as he dipped you and chuckled at your suprised gasp,"we will also be stopping for that autumn abomination that you call coffee."

"Hey! Don't diss the pumpkin spice latte, I saw you drink it yesterday!" You teased playfully and pulled the detective into a soft and passionate kiss.

"Hmm, only because it reminded me of you," he whispered between your kisses. His lips brushed against yours deliciously as he held you close and swayed in time to the melody of his composition. His grip on your waist tightened as he rested his forehead on yours and softly whispered, "how did I get so lucky?"

"I ask myself that question everyday,Sherl," you said softly and cupped his cheeks, bringing him back to your gentle lips and our souls were set alight.

"I love you."

"I love you too," you said. As your eyes met the gentle autumn sunlight hit Sherlock's eyes perfectly and you couldn't help but admire the way his eyes shifted from light green to a brilliant blue. And yet, your admiration was cut short as yours and Sherlock's stomach growled in sync.

"Breakfast?"

"Oh god yes," you smiled as Sherlock kept a hold of your hand and guided you to the kitchen where you had spent many joyous nights since that dark night 2 months ago.

You kinda Sherlock had many hidden talents, but you never expected cooking would be one of them as you watched him flambé the bacon with perfect ease.

"You can cook," you said in astonishment.

"Yes, I can." Sherlock smiled smugly as he placed one had on his hip and the other in the gas knobs.

"It wasn't a question, you can cook!" You clarified as you started to butter the toast.

"I was taught by a Frenchman in return, I got him off a murder charge."

"Sherl, in all the years I've known you, I never knew you could cook something edible!"

"It's only on special occasions, y/n/n. Oh bugger!" Sherlock cried as he slipped and span the gas knob causing the flame in the pan to shoot up to the ceiling.

"Sherl, you're on fire!"

"I know I am."

"No, you prat! You're litterally on fire," you said as you patted the flame out on his dressing gown sleeve and watched in a mix of awe and bewilderment as Mrs Hudson's over head sprinklers came on and drenched the pair of you.

"Did you just call me a prat?" Sherlock laughed as he turned the oven off completely and looked at you with amusement twinkling in his eye.

"I panicked!" You laughed as you held your hands up in defence, "and I was distracted by your cooking."

"In my defense," he said as he pushed his wet curls out of his face, "I never said I was a good cook."

"Okay, I'll give you that one. Although I have a feeling Hudders will kill us when she finds out ."

Mrs. Hudson wanting to kill you was the understatement of the year as she berated and scolded you and Sherlock for the best part of an hour.

"Do you have any idea of how much this is going to cost? What were you thinking?"

"Er...we wasn't. I was admiring his ability to cook and he got a bit carried away. Buuuut it's all for a good cause!"

"A good cause?" The elderly lady questioned and looked at you eagerly awaiting an explanation as to why the entire kitchen of 221B was drenched and why there's a massive black firemark on the ceiling.

But you simply presented your engagement ring that sat in pride of place in your left ring finger, and it appeared Sherlock had the same idea as he placed his hand under yours so your rings would show in unison. "it's our anniversary," Sherlock explained, "I was attempting to be romantic."

"Oh my dears! Why didn't you tell me? Sherlock did you choose this?" Mrs. Hudson beamed as she took both of your hands in hers, "who else knows?"

"Just you, Mycroft and John," you said as you took Sherlock's hand in yours and smiled as you felt him draw small circles on your hand.

"Not Molly or Mary?"

"I haven't had the time yet and I think Molly will kill me when she finds out."

"Well, who am I to stand in the way of your celebrations? Go out and have fun. I'll have the flat fixed by the time you come back," she said and ushered you towards the bedroom so you could pack. But not before she called your name and threw you something silver, "be safe!"

"Mrs. Hudson!" You cried as your cheeks flushed at the sight of the handcuffs and several packets of protection.

"I was young once too, dear."

"Kill me," you muttered as you hid your head in Sherlock's chest.

"Not a chance, love." He grinned and guided you to the room, more than ready to get out of the flat - even if it was just for today.

***

"So how is it?" You asked as you and Sherlock sat outside of your hotel sipping on a wonderful pumpkin spice latte.

"It's not a sludgey as I anticipated," he admitted as he toyed with the reserva ticket, "but it's still too sweet."

"Says the man who had two sugars in his coffee," you teased playfully and nodded towards the poster that was advertising a nude live art class, "have you considered it?"

"Being nude?"

"No...well, yes. But live art, I think you'd make an amazing model."

"Hmm, maybe. What about you?"

"Oh god no, I do not have the body for that."

"Of course you do my dear. You're absolutely stunning and it would be an honour to draw you."

"I-"

"Shh, it's he truth and we're going. Ah, before you say anything, I'll have Mycroft disable all of the security cameras. Tonight is just about us."

"Can I wear the thigh bracelet?" You questioned as your eyes twinkled with mischief.

"It's a good job we have the honey moon suite," Sherlock whispered in your ear, his cheeks flushed pink as he watched a shiver run through you. If his baritone voice already had that much of an effect in you, what else could his presence do to you? "You're very sensitive today," he remarked coyly as his arm snaked around your waist, his fingers rested on your hips as the pair of you started to walk towards the hotel.

"Well who can blame me when you are being so seductive?" You purred as you winked at him and mirrored his position.

"Touché," and with that the two of you settled into the hotel and prepaid for the art class.

As the afternoon moved effortlessly into the evening, romantic sparks flew between you and your curly haired detective, the conversation flowed freely as you talked about from everything from hypothetical situations , to your wedding, to the latest case Sherlock wanted you to join him on. And just when you thought the night couldn't get anymore perfect, you were pleasantly surprised.

As you and Sherlock walked along the art gallery stopping every now and again to admire the art.

He stopped and looked at you with a loving smile, admiring the way your hair shinned in the light, he admired and loved the way your eyes lit up when you talked about Van Gogh's art work, and before his brain could stop his mouth he blurted out, "I can't wait to marry you!"

A wide, beautiful grin spread across your face as you met his gaze, "I can't wait to marry you either,"

"That...that was meant to be an inside thought," he stammered and smiled back as he gestured to the room that was reserved for Mr. And Mrs. Holmes, "Are you ready to go in?"

"I think so," you said as you followed him into the room - fiddling with the buttons in your coat as you went, "but don't laugh!"

"My dear, I would never laugh at you. You are a masterpiece and if it puts you at ease," he said as he locked the door and dropped his coat to the floor, revealing everything to you. Scars, hair and all, "the human body is not designed to be perfect and that's okay. Because tonight y/n, I want you to feel beautiful."

"I do when I'm with you," you said softly and dropped your coat to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your thigh bracelet that still held Sherlock's initials. And yet, the adoring look in his eyes paired with his loving smile and pink cheeks was enough to boost your confidence and get you to stand on the small pedestal. "How do you want me?"

"On my...ahem..." Sherlock shook his head to get rid of his dirty thoughts and pull him back to the moment, "would you be comfortable on your knees with your arms crossed under your breasts?"

"For you? Of course," you teased with a wink, "are you okay? You're very red."

"You're a little minx," he smirked as he put his art supplies to the side and sauntered over to you, his eyes locked perfectly on yours.

"What are you planning? Ah! Sherlock, your hands are cold!" You laughed as he cupped your face and kissed you slowly. Your whole body melted beneath his touch and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around his shoulders and run your fingers along his neck, smiling as he shivered.

"I don't care," he muttered between the kisses, "I've wanted to do this all day."

"What stopped you?" You asked through a gasp as Sherlock's lips settled on your neck, kissing and sucking until a deep purple bruise rose to the surface.

"I wasn't sure I'd be able to stop myself," he admitted and trailed his fingers down your arm until he found your pulse,"and in all honesty, I'm not sure I want too."

"The painting can wait," you wanted as you tugged on his hair, earning yourself a deep moan in response, "are the cameras off?"

"exhibitionist kink?"

"Not on my list, no. Is it on yours?"

"Only in one scenario," he admitted.

"Where?"

"Donovan's desk. It will piss her off and the risk of getting caught is a good high."

"Okay, now that I want to do," you smirked devishly, "could you imagine the look on her face? Especially if her and Anderson caught us!"

"Oh you are fantastic!" He beamed and pressed another passionate kiss to your lips and held you as close as possible, "I suppose we should get back to painting."

"Or we could go back to the hotel room," you offered as you playfully slipped out of his embrace and into his requested pose.

And if it were not for the last shred of his self control, he would have took you then and there. His breath shuddered as he held his hand over his mouth to keep from moaning at the beautiful sight before him. "Hmm, as fantastic as that sounds love..ah. okay challenge: we both must complete a full painting without giving into each other. Then, and only then, we can return to the bedroom."

"And if we don't pass the challenge?"

"Then we'll figure something out," he said as he cleared his throat and sat behind the easel, willing his body to calm down so he could focus.

"You know, you're very cute when you're flustered," you complimented as you watched him paint.

"As are you everyday."

"You're far too kind," you smiled and adjusted your position ever so slightly to sit comfortably, "do we have any cases?"

"Y/n," Sherlock wanted, "No work today, we agreed."

"But-"

"No, love. Tonight is just about us," he purred and looked directly into your eyes, and it took everything in your power not to moan as the way he said 'us' sent a shiver down your spine. "Good girl."

"I- Sherlock, that's not fair!" You cried as the covered your red face with your hands and looked at him through your fingers.

"All is fair in love and war, darling." He smirked as he silently instructed you to return to your position and by God did you comply, for Sherlock had found his ammunition against you."I love you."

"I love you too," you said softly as the pair of you gave way to the power play, beyond excited to see where the night would take you.