Hello there. So the idea for this just popped into my head one day. It's very short, but I came across it and figured, why not? Just an angsty little one-shot. Hope you enjoy.

Rated T for nudity, but no sex.

Also, as you may imagine, I own nothing but the computer this was typed on.

-~~~~~O~~~~~-

Molly sat in the tub, resting her head on her knees, arms wrapped around her legs, allowing the water from the shower to pelt her back. She didn't know exactly how long she'd been in there, but she didn't feel particularly keen on getting out. In fact, she fully intended to stay in until the water ran cold, and possibly even after that. She had no desire to face the world or anyone in it. She sat like that for a while longer until she heard a tentative knock at the bathroom door. She lifted her head as she heard it open, peeking around the shower curtain despite knowing perfectly well who it was.

Sherlock stood there, eyes not meeting hers. At least he had the decency to look guilty. Guilty, and sad, and exhausted. She could relate. Finally, he looked at her, and something seemed to crack. He sighed.

"May I… may I join you?" Molly's eyes widened a little. That was unexpected. She might have said no, but at this point, she simply wanted to take the path of least resistance. She nodded slightly before letting the curtain fall back and returning to her previous position. She heard the rustle of fabric as Sherlock removed his clothes and folded them, draping them over the towel rack like he always did. She heard the rings slide against the shower rod as he stepped in, sitting down cross-legged behind her. They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither one quite knowing what to say. Sherlock was the one to finally speak.

"Molly I-" his voice cracked and she winced. He took a deep, steadying breath before continuing. "I apologize. We may have been arguing but I... I said things I shouldn't have. You know how I get. I can only hope for your forgiveness, even though I don't deserve it. Or you." Molly sighed before slowly turning around to face him. He looked kind of pathetic really, his curls soaking wet and falling into his forlorn face. She had never seen a person look so much like a lost puppy. She took a deep breath and finally spoke. Her voice was oddly even, her energy having been used up by this point.

"We both said things we shouldn't have, Sherlock. Things we didn't mean, or only did in the heat of the moment. We were both in the wrong, and we're both at fault. I just… I'm so tired, Sherlock. Aren't you tired? Tired of the arguing and the misunderstandings?" Sherlock only nodded, a slow, sad gesture. "What have we even been doing these past few months?" Molly whispered, more to herself than him.

"What we can," came his unexpected reply. She looked up at him, surprised. "We've been doing what we can. I… I want… I want to make this work, Molly," he said, looking into her eyes. "I want us to work. There's… I can't imagine myself with anyone else. I don't want anyone else. I just want you." Molly gaped at him, tears filling her eyes. One started to roll down her cheek and he reached out and gently wiped it away with his thumb, cupping her cheek as he did so. She automatically closed her eyes and leaned into the touch.

"I-" his voice broke again. "I do… I do love you, you know." She gasped and her eyes shot open. He'd never said it before. Frankly, part of her never expected him to.

"I, you…" She swallowed. "You've never actually said it before." Sherlock sighed, pulling his hand away and resting his head in his hands.

"I know. And I've been a coward and a bloody fool." Suddenly, he looked up. "I can't guarantee we'll never argue again, Molly. I'm difficult enough to deal with as it is, and we're both stubborn. But, if you'll let me, I'd like to try to be better. For you. With you." He reached down and took her hands in his. "I'm sure I don't deserve it, but I would be immeasurably grateful if you gave me another chance." He looked down at their hands and traced the tops of her fingertips as he waited for a reply. It was a minute before she spoke again.

"We really are a couple of idiots, aren't we?" She sighed again. "You've got to stop with this "I'm not worthy" stuff, Sherlock. Like I said before, we're both at fault. But I would be happy," she continued, removing one of her hands from his and placing it under his chin, lifting his face to look at her, "to give us another chance. I love you too much not to." And with that, she leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft. Tender. Loving. He kissed her back in the same way, poring love and relief into every movement. When they eventually broke apart, she turned around and nestled into his lap, resting against the familiar warmth of his chest. His arms wound around her, holding her to him, while his head came to rest on her shoulder. Yes, they would give it another shot. Because deep down, they knew that they could help each other grow, and that they were much happier together than they were apart.