Molly wrapped up the head in a plastic bag. She was always happy to do anything for Sherlock. Even getting him a head for his experiments. She grabbed her phone to text him.
Sherlock?
MH
Yes?
SH
I have that head for you.
MH
Can you bring it by? I'm busy.
SH
Oh. Yes. Yes, or course. Anything for you.
MH
Oh, that didn't sound right.
MH
How do you mean?
SH
Doesn't matter. There's a key under the mat.
SH
Where would you like it?
MH
I'll tell you when you get here.
SH
Okay. What exactly are you busy with?
MH
Thinking.
SH
Oh. Well, that makes sense.
MH
It does. Moving doesn't help much with brain work. Of course texting hardly does either. I'll see you when you get here.
SH
I'm already here.
MH
Sherlock was laying on the couch, he picked up his phone and read the text right as Molly unlocked the door to the flat and started making her way upstairs. He resumed his position, placing his hands together and resting his chin on them. Molly walked into the living room holding a plastic bag.
"Ah Molly, you can just put it in the fridge."
"Oh, of course." Molly walks over to the fridge and places the head inside. "What do you need it for?"
"An experiment."
"Oh, yes. Of course. That was a stupid question." Molly whispered to herself. She walked back to the living room. "Do you need help with anything?"
"Not that I can think of. Wait, hold on. In the last month have you had any bodies come into the mortuary with ligature marks that looked odd? Like they were made with something that had an odd texture? The COD would have been asphyxiation."
"Yes. There's one that fit that exact description. Of course, I can't bring it here. Would you like me to drive you over there to see it?" Molly crossed her fingers behind her back.
"Yes, I think that would be best. I would have to see the ligature myself. Do you know if there have been any others?" He jumped up from the couch and grabbed his coat and scarf.
Molly smiled to herself. "Oh. Umm, yes, I believe so. I guess you'll have to stay at the morgue for a while then."
"All right then. Let's go." He gestured for Molly to lead the way.
They walked down the stairs, out the door, and entered her car. "So, Sherlock, how are you?" She started driving towards the morgue.
He glanced over at Molly, and back out the window. "I'm fine. Nothing really different going on. Just working on a case."
"You're always working on a case." Molly swallowed. "Umm, Sherlock?"
"Yes?"
"Would you like to go for coffee after you have solved this case?"
Sherlock wasn't sure what to make of her request. He scratched his arm, realizing that he had forgotten a nicotine patch. He would need something eventually. "Sure."
Molly smiled widely. She tried to restrain herself from cheering. They arrived at the morgue and Sherlock quickly jumped out of the car, eager to see the bodies. "Sherlock! Wait!" Molly chased after him towards the entrance of the morgue.
Walking down the hall he turned back to look at Molly. "What is it?" He slowed his pace slightly, but he didn't stop.
She eventually caught up to him and walked close by his side. "Umm, it's locked. I have to unlock it for you." She unlocked the door and led him inside.
"I could have unlocked it, but thank you." He walked inside the mortuary. "So, where's our ligature?" He had a little bit of an excited tone. And why shouldn't he? Something was finally happening.
"Right here." She set her purse down and took off her coat. She pointed towards the body. She pulled back the sheet.
Sherlock leaned over and looked at the ligature. It was just like the one on the body found in Cardiff the other day. "You said there might have been another." He looked at Molly his thoughts racing.
She looked away from Sherlock quickly. She hoped he hadn't caught her staring. "Right over here." She pulled back the sheet of the other body.
Sherlock walked over and looked at that ligature. The exact same. He pulled out his phone. Dialing a number. It rang twice. "Lestrade. You have a serial killer. The ligature is made with a tough textured fabric, like that bag straps. The width and weave indicate the same used on military. He's in the London area judging by the time of death of these two victims. I'll give you more when I have it."
He looked at Molly, "Thank you." Then he remembered. "So, you mentioned coffee?"
She was staring at him again. The way he described things were so, precise. She loved that. She shook her head. "Oh, right. Umm, do you have any recommendations of where you want to go?"
"No, I don't really frequent cafes."
"Well, just at your place then?"
"Not sure we have coffee. John hasn't gone to the store. There will be cafes on the way back, this is London after all"
"Okay. We'll just wing it then?"
"Sure."
Molly and Sherlock headed back to her car. "So.. Umm.."
Sherlock waited for a moment before saying, "You've been on the verge of asking something all day, Molly. What is it? It's just going to keep bothering you otherwise. Better to get it out now rather than just dance around the subject."
"Well, let's just get coffee first." She got in her car.
"All right."
They started off back towards Baker Street. "Where is John anyway?"
"I don't really know. He might have left the country again without my notice for all I know. I might text him later."
"Oh." She took a deep breath. "Sherlock. Do you know?"
"Know what?"
"My feelings for you."
Sherlock was slightly taken aback by her abrupt statement. "I thought we were talking about John?"
Molly bit her lip. "Oh. Yes. We were. Just forgot about that last statement."
"No, I just noted the sudden change in topic. What feelings do you mean?" He knew of course, he'd known for a while. He just was never sure how to react to those. Sherlock generally avoided such things, or tried to. They were one of the few things he had trouble understanding.
She pulled over to the side of the road. She turned and scanned Sherlock's face. "You know."
"Of course I do Molly, there's not a lot that escapes my notice."
"And..?"
"What is it you want me to say, Molly?"
"Your thoughts on it."
"Well, I think that there's nothing wrong with how you feel, though I would be lying if I didn't think your feelings misplaced." He paused. "Believe it or not it has come to my attention that to most people I'm a bit of an arse. And I am, I suppose, but that's the way I am. How you've come to feel this way is beyond me, and that's saying something."
Molly sighed. "I don't know why I have these feelings for you, Sherlock. I really don't. I guess it's because of the other things you do. You solve crimes for Christ's sake! You've got that hero quality."
"I'm not a hero, Molly. Never try to make me out to be one." He looked out the window.
"Well, I think you are. And I think that's why I love you."
Molly actually said it. Sherlock hadn't expected her to. He didn't know what to do. "Molly," He tried to be gentle, ever since Christmas he made an effort to be nicer to Molly. "I like you, you are an exceptionally nice, and surprisingly perceptive person, but I don't know how to go where it is you want to go. I've never acknowledged your feelings because I truly believe myself unable to reciprocate them."
Tears started to fall from Molly's eyes. "Sherlock. Give me your hand."
Sherlock was unsure, but he did as he was told.
She held it in hers. "Look at me." She cleared her throat. "Please."
Sherlock turned his head, to look at Molly. She was crying. It made him slightly uncomfortable. These types of situations always did. He was at a loss of what to do.
"You think you can't reciprocate the feelings I have but, according to something I learned from a friend, you have feelings for me as well."
"What are you talking about? What friend?"
She let go of his hand. "You, Sherlock. You told me that you can tell someone's attracted to you by their heart rate and their pupils."
Sherlock didn't move. What had Molly seen? Could his body be betraying something his mind didn't know about? "I don't…." He couldn't finish his sentence. He was at a loss of words.
She turned away from him and started the car again. "I'm sorry, my heart was taking over my mind. I shouldn't have done that." She started driving towards Baker Street.
They drove for a minute while Sherlock thought. "Perhaps, Molly…." He paused, not sure what he was saying, only knowing that he somehow felt it was right. "…my mind has taken over my heart."
Molly slammed on the brakes. She gripped the steering wheel tight. Sounds of horns from behind started blaring. She shook her head and started again. She didn't say anything until they arrived at 221B Baker Street.
Sherlock waited, seeing what she was going to say, knowing full well that something was waiting on the tip of her tongue.
She started to say something but changed her mind quickly. She didn't know what to say. Had Sherlock just showed a sign of feelings towards her? She shook her head. That's crazy. He could never have feelings for her. "How about that coffee?" She turned off the car and headed for the door of his flat.
He got out of the car, letting Molly go up into the flat where she began to dig through the kitchen looking for coffee.
"Looks like you don't have any." She closed all the cupboards she'd opened. "I'll just go down to Mrs. Hudson and see if she has any." She passed Sherlock on her way to the stairs but he stopped her.
"I told you we didn't have any coffee, Molly." His hand was on her arm. He didn't move it for a minute. He looked at her. How had he not noticed her eyes before?
She stared into his eyes but quickly looked away. "I'll just ask Mrs. Hudson. I'm sure she at least has some tea."
He looked down, dropping his arm. "All right."
She headed downstairs to Mrs. Hudson's flat. She knocked on the door. Mrs. Hudson opened it and greeted Molly with a huge smile. "Oh, Molly dear, how have you been? I haven't seen you since Christmas! Has Sherlock asked you for more body parts to play with?"
Molly smiled. "Yes, actually. But, Sherlock and John don't seem to have any coffee. Do you?"
Sherlock could hear them talking downstairs.
"Oh, yes, of course." Mrs. Hudson headed into her kitchen to grab a box of tea. She handed it to Molly. "Here, dear. Are you on a date with him, sweetheart?"
Molly just smiled and shook her head, trying to stop the tears forming in her eyes.
"Molly dear, what's wrong?" Mrs. Hudson grabbed her shoulder for comfort.
"Oh, it's nothing." She shook her head. "Thanks for the tea, I'll bring it back down when we're done. I better get back upstairs to Sherlock before he starts shooting the wall again." She put on a fake smile and headed upstairs.
Sherlock listened to Molly's tone as she talked to Mrs. Hudson. She was crying, he could tell. Sherlock was suddenly antsy. He couldn't stand still, and didn't know why. It was as if he wanted to do something but he didn't know what.
Molly came into the living room holding a box of tea and paused, wiping an eye quickly. Sherlock didn't know what made him do it. It was like an itch. He strode over to her and placed his lips on hers.
Molly froze. Her hands suddenly let go of the box of tea and her arms automatically wrapped around the back of his neck. The kiss lasted for what seemed like forever. They broke apart and the only thing that was running through Molly's mind was hopes for it to happen again.
"I'm sorry." He didn't know what he was apologizing for. "I don't know what just happened." He realized that his arms were wrapped around her. When did that happen? He didn't move though, as confused as his head was, his body was perfectly content where it was. His mouth twitched up involuntarily into a smile.
"Sherlock?" Molly was brought back to reality. She released herself from Sherlock's grasp. "Is this some kind of sick experiment?" She realized she was yelling.
"What? No! I really don't know why that happened!" He didn't know why he was defending himself. He supposed that it was an experiment in a sense as he had learned something from it, but it wasn't one he had planned, nor one he had intended to do. But mostly he defended himself because he didn't want Molly to be upset.
"Sherlock, my heart already hurts so much because of the feelings I have for you. But this, this is just too much. I love you, Sherlock. But, clearly you're just toying with my emotions!" Molly paced back and forth in his living room.
"I assure you that's not my intention. You tell me that I am able to feel these things, and here I am trying and you stand there and accuse me of intentionally trying to harm you!" He realized that he too was yelling now. "Did it ever occur to you that I never once tried to feel that way towards you because I knew that if I failed, it would only hurt you more than me just ignoring your feelings would!?" Sherlock stopped, until that very moment, it had never occurred to him either, but it didn't make it less true.
Molly just looked at him. Tears were sliding down her cheeks. She couldn't think straight. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that that kiss meant something to him. "I love you so much that my mind is taking over my heart as well." She wiped away her tears but more kept falling from her eyes.
"Sherlock, do you love me?" She knew he wouldn't give her a straight answer but she asked him anyway.
"I'm going to be honest with you Molly. I'm still figuring that out." He sat down on the sofa and ran his hands through his hair. Frustrated. "I obviously care for you, I don't like seeing you upset. I used to not care really but over time, I don't like putting that hurt look on your face. That has to mean something. And it's like you said, pulse, pupils. The physical signs are there, it's just strange. It's like there's a lock on a part of my head and the rest of me is just slamming against it. I'm trying, Molly. But I can't give you an answer, not now anyway. But I want to." And as he said it Sherlock realized that he really meant it.
"Kiss me." Molly knew it was crazy. But, with Sherlock and all his experiments involving her and her workplace, she deserved the chance to try some experiments of her own.
Sherlock didn't argue with her. He stepped forward, unsure what to do, how he had done it last time. He placed his lips on hers.
They kept kissing, not parting for a few moments. Both their eyes shut tight. Molly waited. She waited until that moment where she would get her answer. Whether he loved her or not. She may not know a lot about the science of deduction but she knows how people act when they are head over heels in love.
Sherlock's hands moved on their own accord; he let them. They moved up her neck to cradle the back of her head as he held her to him. He pressed his lips harder against hers, deepening the kiss. He wasn't even sure he was doing anything right, but it felt right.
There it was. What she was waiting for. That spark, that touch. At that moment when their kiss deepened, she knew that he was hers. They broke apart and Molly couldn't help but smile when she noticed Sherlock's hands still cradling her head. Their faces were still so close that they could feel the pants coming from each other's lungs.
"So what's your conlusion?" He asked her.
"No. What's yours?" She asked, still smiling at their closeness.
"Yes?" He hoped it was the right answer.
"Are you asking me or telling me?"
"Both." He smiled a bit, realizing he was right.
Molly smiled. "So," She wrapped her arms around his neck and he dropped his to her waist. "Sherlock, you do have feelings. It just took some experimenting to come to the conclusion."
"Apparently. Though I'm still unsure what to do with them. It's rather new, though I'm hoping you'll put up with me long enough for me to find out."
She laughed. "Of course. I'd do anything for you."
