A/N: To readers already reading other works of mine…I'm sorry. I got seriously distracted. But in my defense it is Femslash February…and we need more femslash out there. And I wanted a modern one-shot of these two before I go back to the Victorian work! Anyhow, hope that makes sense!

Warnings- no sex (sorry), some nudity (she's trying on lingerie for heaven's sake), and unbetaed (any mistakes are my own). Please review if you enjoy!

Nothing was working.

Molly, ever the scientist, was one to realize when her attempts at trying something were a failure. And things with Tom were no exception.

When they'd started dating things had been…lovely. Movies together and a few walks in the park. And then the two of them in bed enjoying each other's company in a different way. And the sex had seemed to go on for ages. It was as though neither of them could get enough. It had seemed almost inevitable when Tom pulled out the ring.

But now… the dates with him on his cell or the nights where he pulled away. Or even worse the nights where he didn't show up at all. Molly swallowed, thinking of the last time they'd had sex right after John and Mary's wedding. It hadn't been what it used to. Something was missing. And to think they were supposed to be married in six months.

So it was time for a new test. New attempts to put the chemistry back in place. Though the more Molly thought about it, the more she worried that there hadn't really been any chemistry to begin with. How could she know? She couldn't think of a single time she'd been with someone and felt truly happy. Tom was the best she'd had. And she had to make things work.

It was Meena who had suggested it. "Spice it up," she had said. "Not the same old stuff. That's the problem."

"Like…in the bedroom?" Molly had asked, biting her lip.

"Just buy some new sexy lingerie and try something new," Meena had said with an eye roll. "Honestly Molly, it's not that hard. I'm not saying get sex toys or anything. Just a little something to…get his attention. Remind him why he wanted you."

Molly shook her head at the memory. She glanced up, swallowing as she eyed the store in front of her.

Just seeing the various skimpy undergarments in the windows made her feel anxious. She clutched her purse a little tighter, thinking of Tom as she stalked towards the door.

"You've got this Molly," she muttered.

A bell jingled above her head and a girl behind the counter looked up. She frowned and went back to working at whatever she was doing. She remained silent as Molly made her way inside, doing her best to take deep breaths even as she was faced with such unfamiliar territory.

The shop was dimly lit, a few lamps strung from the ceiling casting an earie glow over the red painted walls and the dark racks of clothing.

She passed a few tables with sex toys mixed in with the panties before she arrived at her first rack. Molly did her best to maintain composure as she began looking through the garments, some of which she had no idea how to even put on. She pulled out a string thing and wondered how much that would even cover. It didn't even look remotely comfortable.

A leather corset was something she did consider, but honestly, the thought of wearing something like that still made her feel… she couldn't even put it into words.

And did she need garter belts or anything else to go with these? Where did she even begin to start?

She'd just picked up a black thong and some silky black bra that only really covered the you-know-whats, when a voice interrupted her.

"May I help you?"

Molly spun to see a woman standing behind her. She had brown hair pinned up behind her head in an elegant style. If not for her attentive posture, Molly might have thought her just another customer in her fancy red dress and stiletto heels. She looked up to meet piercing blue gray eyes that stared at her with such intensity that Molly was sure she had been found out as an intruder.

"May I help you?" the woman repeated.

"Oh…er…I just…" Molly hesitated, wondering how to even proceed. "I was just looking."

"Oh, well those are too big for you," the woman said, motioning to the things in Molly's hand. "And to be honest I'm not quite sure they suit you."

Molly felt her hopes drop. "I…I don't know much about this. I'm…I'm sorry," she managed to stammer.

"Don't apologize," the woman said. "If you'll come to a fitting room I can take your measurements. Although I do believe from what I can see of you beneath the baggy sweater and shapeless trousers you're probably a 32, 26, 31."

Molly felt herself flushing. "I used to be a 32 B, but I've put on a little weight since…" she broke off. "I just…perhaps you're right. I'll do a measurement to be sure."

She would hate to try on more of these than necessary after all. And she had a feeling the assistant was right and that the pieces weren't quite what she was looking for.

The woman gave a sharp nod and turned to sashay off to the back of the shop. Molly swallowed and followed after, doing her best not to stare at the bondage equipment and other strange items she passed.

"This room if you please," the woman said, motioning Molly towards one of the curtained chambers.

Molly stepped in, hesitating as the woman came in behind her, pulling the curtain closed.

"If you want it to be accurate I'll need your shirt and bra off," the woman said with the slightest hint of a smile. "But it's up to you."

Molly just nodded mutely, her tongue feeling stuck to the roof of her mouth. She set her purse aside and began tugging off her shirt, and then slowly unhooking the very worn out white bra she wore far too many days in a row. She let it fall to the floor, hearing the whispering rustle of a tape measure behind her.

"Just a moment."

She felt a hand on her arm then, and she almost jumped. The warmth felt nice, and the woman's hands were soft at least. She relaxed a little as the tape measure found its way first around her ribcage, and then on her actual breasts. The woman was quick, but Molly still noted a slight lingering of the hands. She glanced back to see a smile on those red lips, eyes flicking up to hers.

"Whatever weight you gained must have disappeared," the woman said softly. "You're still the same size. Now…if you'd like I'll go pick a few things for you. But you must tell me what you're looking for."

Molly folded her arms across her chest. "Er…well it's for my fiancé. I…I'm going to surprise him tonight after dinner. Just thought I might…spice things up a bit you know?"

The woman smirked. "I do. Would you prefer a bra and panty set, corset, teddy…something else entirely?"

Molly licked her lips. "I was…I was probably thinking just the bra and panties…unless you'd recommend something else."

"For a gorgeous little thing like you?" the woman purred. "Oh I have a few ideas. Give me a moment and I'll be right back."

Molly waited, shivering a bit. She moved to start taking off her trousers as she waited. She just had to hope the assistant had decent taste.

The woman reappeared a few minutes later with several hangers in her hands.

"There you are, try a few of these sets on."

She took them all, hanging them up and reaching for the first set. She slid the silk over her body, shivering slightly at the soft texture. She had to admit, she might be able to get used to something like this.

"So, a fiancé hmm? How long have you been engaged?"

Molly sighed as she managed to wrangle the teddy over her head. "A few months. We…we met through friends and things were nice so he proposed. He's not exactly Mr. Darcy…but I…it's all been…nice," she finished lamely.

"Nice hmm?" the woman said.

"Yes," Molly said, doing her best to maintain some level of confidence in her voice, even as months of history piled up in her head.

"Do you have it on?"

Molly glanced down at herself and grimaced. The frilly mint green wasn't exactly what she would have picked.

"Yes."

"Then step out and let's see it."

Molly almost balked at the request. But honestly, from where she was standing looking at herself in the mirror, she had to realize she would never be a good judge of if this worked or not.

She reached for the curtain, hesitantly pulling it aside before stepping out. The woman's eyes ran over her form, gaze tracing every curve.

"Not right," she said. "Go try on the next one."

It was tempting to outright deny her. Tell her that this would do and check out. After all, Molly was a paying customer. But there was something about the way the woman said it.

"Go," the woman said again, eyes flashing. "Back to the changing room. There's a good girl."

The last words were said in a low purr that had Molly shivering again. She kept trying to judge her reactions, thinking only it had to be the long time since she'd last slept with Tom.

She went back into the dressing room, quickly sliding off the first pair of undergarments to try on the next set. These were black and made of some kind of a synthetic looking leather. Compared to the girly frill of the first ones, these spoke of some kind of more powerful woman. Dominatrix, her mind supplied. She wondered if Tom would like this.

"So what do you do?" the shopkeeper asked as Molly started trying to buckle the bra on.

"Er...I'm a...well a forensic pathologist," Molly said, turning side to side as she examined the effects of the lingerie. She sighed before stepping out, unsurprised when the other woman immediately shook her head.

"A doctor of the dead then," the woman said, smiling.

Molly smiled as well, in spite of her frustration with the undergarments. She remembered back to telling Tom what she did on her first date. She'd had to explain it to him. And even then, she was never fully sure if he understood what her profession truly was.

"Yes," I suppose so," she said. "I'll leave it at that to avoid talking your ear off."

The woman chuckled. "I wouldn't mind. The body is such an interesting thing. You must be so well acquainted with it."

Molly shivered, discerning a double meaning.

Sure enough, when she stepped out from behind the curtain she found the woman eyeing her with an even keener interest.

"Those aren't right," the woman said. "I thought you might be able to pull it off...but my little mousey I'm afraid you appear to be playing dress up in such gear. Try the next."

Molly scowled at the address, but she flounced back into the room and finally turned to the last set.

The moment she had them on she knew. A soft gasp escaped her mouth, not only at the soft silky feel on her hips and breasts, but at the effect the garments had in the mirror.

She'd initially disliked the idea of them. While she admired a feminine touch now and again, she didn't much care for pink. But the color of these was different. It was some kind of a blend between pink and red, dark enough to look sexy and elegant, but light enough to not have the same serious affect as all the scarlet she'd been staring at. The half cups showed off the few assets she had, and the panties hugged at her hips in the perfect way.

Molly hesitated a moment before drawing the curtain back. But the woman's eyes lit up on sight of her.

"Oh very good," she purred. "I think those will do just fine. Why your fiancé will forget all about dinner when he sees those. Will they work with your dress? I assume you're wearing them to dinner for a surprise after?"

Molly glanced at her in surprise. "Oh...I'm not...it's just going out to our favorite pub. I'm going to wear either my trousers or a skirt. Nothing too fancy."

The woman's face darkened. "Oh no. No that simply will not do."

She snatched her phone out of the depths of her cleavage, startling Molly for a second. And then she was tapping away at the keyboard.

What are you doing?" Molly demanded, suddenly torn between finding out what had happened and putting her clothing back on.

"I'm making reservations for you at Le Gavroche," she said.

Molly gaped, trying to wrap her head around the very idea. It wasn't that she couldn't afford the extravagance. It was simply that she and Tom...they'd kept thing so simple. She really always had, having grown up in a family that struggled to make the bills.

"I...that's not necessary," Molly stuttered.

"The owner owes me a...a favor," the woman said, looking up and smirking. "A woman like you deserves finer than a pub to dine with her fiancé. Dining on fish and chips in a dingy room watching football? No, you are a beautiful, intelligent, and independent woman, and you deserve finer. The reservation has been made for seven. I'll meet you up front to purchase your order."

Molly gasped. "But what will I wear? I...I have a few things I suppose."

The woman put up a hand. "Unnecessary. I will escort you shopping myself. I will see you suitably attired. As I said...you deserve more."

And before Molly could protest she'd disappeared around the corner. Were Molly not still in her undergarments she might have chased after, but as it was she had to retreat into the dressing room to put her own plain undergarments back on.

She texted Tom to let him know the change of plans. He texted back after a few seconds, simply saying it was fine and whatever she wanted to do. For some reason that only made Molly feel more unhappy. She didn't bother responding back.

The woman was waiting for her at the checkout, the grumpy looking girl still sitting at the cash register.

Molly handed over the items, watching as the girl rang them up. She winced at the price, but did hand over her credit card.

"Molly Hooper," the woman said, eyes glinting as she read the name. "A lovely name for a lovely woman."

"I don't think I caught yours," Molly managed to say. She raised her chin a little. "After all, if we're to go shopping together, it's only fair isn't it?"

The woman smirked. "You may call me Irene." She turned and reached to grab a coat hanging on a hook on the wall. "Now, Molly, if you're ready we can be off. Gina, mind the shop while I'm out. I have some shopping to do."

"Whatever boss," the girl muttered, pulling a magazine out from under the counter to begin lazily flipping through the pages.

Irene rolled her eyes.

"Are...are you the manager?" Molly asked as Irene swept towards the door.

Irene turned and looked at her with a smirk. "Oh Molly dear, I own the place."

She looked away again, sashaying back to the door while Molly was left at a loss. Shopping for clothing with the owner of a lingerie store. It felt like something out of a dream. Though Molly couldn't say yet whether it was a good one or a nightmare.

She and Irene spent more than three hours together. The woman dragged her to several boutiques, putting her into dress after dress until at last she found one she thought was just a right, a rich sapphire blue with a pair of heels. Molly struggled not to stagger with them on.

"You have the legs for it," Irene had said with a shrug. "You mustn't let fear hold you back, Molly."

"My only fear is that of breaking my ankle," Molly had said, giggling in spite of herself.

After finding a suitable gown for the evening, Irene had paid for the dress (with such insistence that Molly could not talker her out of it) before dragging Molly to a spa. She had Molly manicured and pedicured, before the two of them sat down together for a facial and a massage. Molly almost thought she was free, but Irene next insisted she go have her hair done at a salon.

Had someone suggested to Molly that her day would consist of such activities with a perfect stranger, Molly might have scoffed. But after finally looking herself over in the mirror as the stylist finished putting her hair into a lovely partial up do, she couldn't deny the day had been nothing short of perfect.

But beyond the relaxation of the spa or the fun of retail therapy, Molly was sucked into the strange mystery that was Irene. The woman made quips throughout, pointing out odd people on the street, adding sarcasm when she needed. She carried on a conversation while Molly sat in the hairstylist's chair, talking everything from politics to science to literature to a touch of celebrity gossip.

Molly thought back to the dress shopping, to the way Irene had stood behind her while she looked at herself in the mirror, one delicate hand poised on Molly's bare shoulder, a smile curving over her lips as she met Molly's gaze in the reflection.

And as Irene settled the bags in her hands, Molly found her heart sinking.

"You have a date to go begin preparing for," the woman insisted. "Go home and finish readying yourself. Be at the restaurant no later than seven."

"Thank you," Molly managed to say, even as her voice caught in her throat. "It was lovely. I…I couldn't have done all this without you."

"It was my pleasure," Irene said, smiling warmly. "I told you. You deserve the finer things in life, Molly Hooper. Go and enjoy them."

She turned away. For a moment Molly almost reached for her. She almost said something cheesy like "will I ever see you again?" But instead, she remained silent. After all, she had her future to think about…with Tom. She swallowed and turned back to hail a cab. Tonight had to change things for the better. She was determined that it would.

Le Gavroche was something that almost put Molly ill at ease. In some ways, the date might have been easier had it been in the familiar comfort of a place she and Tom already knew. However, Molly was making the best of it.

Dressed in her new dress and heels, clutching a small purse to her, while she admired the feeling of the undergarments as she walked, Molly did her best to keep her head held high. Irene had told her she deserved more…and she was going to behave as though that was true.

"Reservation for Hooper," Molly said to the waiter.

She didn't even look at her book. She smiled and motioned Molly into the restaurant.

"Of course, Ms. Hooper. Would you prefer to wait for your date or continue on back?"

Molly swallowed. "Er…I'll wait at the table please."

The waiter nodded and picked up two menus before heading back. They passed several tables with fancy looking guests. Molly swallowed as she eyed the fine white tablecloths and plush red chairs. Candles and wine glasses and all the finery decked out.

Irene had sequestered a table in a corner, more private in that regard. Molly sighed in relief as she sat down in her chair, pulling her phone out the moment the waiter was out of sight.

She waited for a few minutes. The waiter did come back to ask if she'd like anything. Molly was tempted to pick out a glass of wine just to calm the nerves. But she decided to wait until Tom turned up.

Ten minutes passed. Molly glanced anxiously around, noting a few people gazing at her curiously. She had to be quite the spectacle, a finely dressed woman sitting by herself. Molly felt a few tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she forced them back.

"You deserve this," she whispered. She would not allow others to cow her into admitting this might have been a poor idea.

Her phone buzzed and Molly glanced down.

Tom's face had appeared on the screen.

Molly swallowed and picked up, bringing it up to her ear.

"Tom, are you on your way?" she asked.

"Er…sorry Molls. Got caught up at work. Can we reschedule?"

Molly froze. "What? Tom, we've had this scheduled for two weeks now. You knew how much I wanted to get out of the flat…I…I thought…and with the reservation…"

"Bad luck," the man said, his tone lacking the real sympathy she longed for. "We'll find another time, all right? Besides, some of the mates wanted to go watch the match later on. You could tag along if you'd like?"

Molly looked down at her dress. "No," she managed to say in a choked voice. "No…that's…Tom…?"

"Yes?"

"It's over," Molly said.

There was a pause and then muffled movement. "Jesus Molls, what are you on about?"

"It's over," she whispered. "We…we've tried and tried but it's not working. We're…we're not right for each other."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded. "We're great! We get on just fine. Have we even had a proper fight yet?"

"No," Molly said. "That's the problem. We're…flat…boring." She hesitated before saying, "we don't have chemistry Tom."

She thought of Irene. Those mysterious eyes and that smirking smile. The touch on her shoulder. The laughs they'd shared over their massages. Long conversations on every subject Molly loved. The way Molly had shivered at the thought of the woman seeing her in the gorgeous lingerie she was currently wearing.

And with Tom there was… a movie on the couch with him falling asleep halfway through. And sex where she was left wondering what else there was. Mediocre dates where he told her to stop talking about work since he didn't understand.

"I should have realized," Molly said. "I'm sorry, Tom. I saw the signs and I did nothing. We're not right."

Tom was silent for a moment. "I…I'm gonna give you the night…I'll call you tomorrow all right? We can talk it over."

"There's nothing to talk over," Molly whispered. It was true. She felt more for a perfect stranger….no…Irene wasn't a stranger…not truly…for someone she'd just met…than for her own fiancé.

"I…" Tom sighed. "Fine Molly. Have it your way. But don't you dare come crying back the next week you understand? And I want the ring back."

Molly rolled her eyes. That was Tom, always concerned about the money.

"Fine," she said. "Fine." She snatched the ring off her finger and stuffed it in her purse. "The ring is yours. Your life is yours. And mine is my own now."

She hung up before he could say another word. To be honest, she didn't care to hear his excuses. Nor did she want to make her own. They both had known it was over since before John's wedding. They had sensed it. But the past few months had been confirmation enough. She'd ignored the evidence. Molly swallowed to keep herself in composure. She could hear a few whispers nearby but did her best to ignore them.

Molly called the waiter over.

"My date's not coming," she told her. "I…I'll have a glass of wine if that's all right. And then I'll be off."

The girl frowned. "Your date just telephoned to say there was some bad traffic. Should just be another minute at most. Would you still like the wine?"

"But I just…" Molly broke off, staring at her in confusion. "That's not—"

"Sorry I was late, dear," a voice broke in.

Molly turned to see Irene standing there. She felt her breath catch. It was enough to see the woman herself, but Irene's appearance was simply the cherry on top.

She was wearing a sparkly black gown that clung to her hips. A long slit showed off her legs. The neckline was high, but that didn't mean she didn't look incredibly sexy. She'd redone her hair in a somehow even more elaborate hairstyle. But Molly had a hard enough time looking away from that now quite familiar smile that sent thrills through her.

Irene's hand brushed hers, and something warm and wistful blew through her like a summer breeze.

"Hello, Molly," she murmured. She leaned a bit closer and brushed a kiss to her cheek. "Traffic was atrocious. I hope you'll forgive me."

Molly swallowed. "How…how did you know?"

"A guess," Irene purred, moving to sit at her own seat. "Your very demeanor at the shop told me the relationship was failing. When I made the reservation I had a poor feeling. It's one thing for a man to stand you up at a pub. Quite another at a place like this. Or am I wrong?"

Molly felt her pulse quicken and she had to take a deep breath. "No. You're not. But why…I mean…you planned this from the beginning?"

Irene smiled. "I knew from the moment I saw you I liked you. Such a pretty little inexperienced thing wandering into my web. Why, I couldn't resist a morsel like you. Initially I'd thought if I could draw you in I might take you in my bed. I help women in the changing rooms who I hope to have such luck with you must understand. But…something when you began to talk…I realized it was more. Intelligence and untrained confidence all wrapped in such a pretty package. I knew at once I couldn't let you go. Pity there was a fiancé in my way…though I knew it was only a matter of time before he fell away."

"So all this…was to what…woo me?" Molly hesitated. "Seduce me?"

Irene's gaze sharpened. "Oh Molly my little mouse, you needn't think me so nefarious… or perhaps you should considering I think that's what you like deep down. I have to demonstrate to a potential suitor what I'm worth. Or rather…what you're worth."

Molly swallowed. "And what am I worth?" she challenged.

Irene tilted her head to the side. She leaned closer across the small table, her hand taking Molly's.

"If you were mine I don't deny I'd keep you well. Well dressed. Well cared for. Well entertained. We'd dine across Europe. Stay in the finest hotels. I'd keep you in those silken undergarments you've come to like so well this evening." She paused and smiled. "But I'd do more than just that, Molly. Your fiancé bores you. It's written all over your face. You try to spice things up because he fails to. If you were mine life wouldn't be so boring. I would spoil you. And not just with material possessions, because after a while those grow old too.

"I'd give you bubble baths and candle lit massages. Kisses and caresses and your head in my lap while we watched classic old films. I'd even chance making you dinner from time to time. Just the two of us. Take you out dancing or for a boat ride on the Thames. And…were you willing…I might just have the pleasure of taking those undergarments off you again," Irene said, eyes sparkling. "I told you once, and I'll say it again…you deserve more, Molly Hooper."

Molly thought for a moment that the world itself might freeze around her. Her attention fixated on the woman before her. She looked at the hand on hers. The pleasures promised where lovely. But Molly knew they meant little.

The fingers twining in hers. The eyes locked with her own. That warm smile. It had been ages since she'd felt like this, so lightheaded and adrift in a sea of possibilities.

The woman grounded her. The reality of what she was choosing.

"You have time to think," Irene murmured. "We have time, Molly. Nothing but really. Allow me to get to know you. Allow me to show you what you've been missing all these years."

Molly managed to finally nod. If nothing else, Irene was right. Why not give this a chance? There was time to consider.

"If you're willing then. Let's have dinner," Irene said. "The rest can wait for another night."

Molly found herself leaning forward, capturing Irene's mouth before another word could escape. She'd heard enough talk for one night.

Irene's hand caressed along her cheek, coaxing her just a bit closer as their mouth's mingled. Molly found herself almost gasping as she pulled away, finding herself a bit dizzy as she stared at her date. She sat back in her chair, considering just a second, even though the answer was already in the smile quickly spreading across her face.

"Dinner," Molly agreed with a slight laugh. "I agree. But…to be honest I've had enough waiting. I waited too long last time. I'm not making that mistake again. After dinner…perhaps you'll feel up to some dessert?"

Irene's eyes glinted, and she pulled up her dessert spoon, sticking it in her mouth before pulling it out with a wet pop.

"I'd be delighted," she purred.

Molly grinned, squeezing onto the hand in hers. Well, the scientist had to start again sometimes. And this was one experiment she believed might just turn out right.

A/N: Also if someone with more artistic talent than me could please make images of Molly lingerie shopping…or any of the story at all really…that would be great. But if not, a review will do instead!