Rating: K

Origin: This was a challenge fill from MorbidMegz, sleeping positions, and written approximately 8 months ago.

Brief summary: Sherlock's taken Molly along with him after his 'death' in S2, and she's less than thrilled with his treatment of her. She tells him so.

Sherlock was dead. Well, that's what everyone else thought, but, considering he was standing next to her, that obviously wasn't true. She couldn't fully wrap her head around how they had wound up here, in the hotel room, staring at a single double bed.

One second, she was leading him to her flat after cleaning him up in the morgue after the fall, the next he was pulling her from her flat, telling her it was bugged, and she was compromised.

With her life suddenly in danger, Sherlock had insisted she come along, and she, being the ever loyal pathologist, didn't even put up a fight. Her heart still raced as she recalled him running her at a run from her flat, his hand clutching hers to keep her from slowing down until he could figure out the next plan of action.

A quick phone call to Mycroft, and they were being picked up by a strange woman in a black car, Anthea, she said her name was, but Molly had doubts as to whether or not that was her real name. Still, there wasn't much time to question anything, given that Sherlock and her seemed to be having some silent conversation, one that Molly wasn't privy to.

Eventually, Anthea nodded, and Sherlock smirked, and turned away to effectively ignore the both of them, leaving Molly completely in the dark. What exactly was going on here, and where were they going now?

Only one of those questions was answered, as they pulled up to the hotel. From what Molly could see around them, it was definitely outside of London. Just how long had they been driving?

Her thoughts were torn from her as the door opened, and an impatient consulting detective looked down at her. "Come on, Molly. We're staying here until we can get a flight out."

"Flight?" She squeaked, as she scrambled ungracefully from the car, stumbling right into him. "Sorry!" she muttered, blushing fiercely as she righted herself.

Sherlock smirked, but chose not to comment. "Yes, flight. And before you fuss, your position at Bart's is safe, as is your cat." With that, he turned, and seemed to stalk into the hotel, leaving her to trail behind him. She cast one last glance behind her as the black car, and the strange woman disappeared with it.

Now, after checking in under false names, Molly stood just inside the room, still looking at the bed, wondering how exactly this was going to work.

Once again, she was shaken from her thoughts by Sherlock as he shut the door behind them and stepped further into the room, already unbuttoning his dress shirt.

"W-what are you doing?" Molly stammer, quickly turning around, her cheeks a deep shade of red as the blood rushed up.

"Undressing, obviously. My body requires rest, after the strain I've put on it by jumping from a rooftop." Sherlock replied. She could practically see the eye roll that must have accompanied his words.

Well, at least that settled the bed issue… Molly swallowed as she heard his shirt hit the ground.

"Well, umm. . okay. I'll just…" her words drifted off as she heard him come up behind her, stopping only when he was just barely touching her back with his bare chest. Molly's heart was doing flips, but as usual, he seemed unperturbed by the closeness.

"It's a bit late to be acting nervous now, don't you think? You've already seen me in less, while you were cleaning me before I woke up, and you require rest too. We'll share the bed, it's big enough." Sherlock stated in his usual logical manner.

Molly's blush only deepened at the truth in his words. It irked her, how close he was, how condescending he was acting, after everything she had done for him, and Molly, admittedly over tired, was sick of it. She took a step away, and turned around to give him a scolding look. "Fine, Sherlock. You know, after everything I've done, you could at least not talk to me like I'm some silly little kid. I'm going to freshen up." For once, she didn't stutter, and as she moved passed him to the bathroom, she turned around just long enough to say, "And you're welcome for saving your bloody life." before she shut the door and locked it between them, leaving a stunned Sherlock in her wake.

He could hear the shower as it turned on, but he still didn't move as he contemplated her words. Had he really forgotten a simple thank you? Surely it was implied, at least. Of course, now that he looked back, his actions didn't exactly scream grateful. Sherlock frowned. This certainly was not what he had planned. But then, Molly wasn't supposed to be here in the first place. Things never went to plan anymore.

Sherlock sighed quietly, and went to the side of the bed closest to the door, and shoved the blankets aside before laying down on his side as he waited for Molly to exit the shower.

Molly took her time, scrubbing her skin until it was pink as she worked her frustrations away. By the time she was done, the water was cooling, and she felt like a child throwing a hissy fit. After all, Sherlock was just being… well, Sherlock. What had she expected? Just because he said she counted, didn't mean anything would change between them.

She slipped her jumper back on over her head, glad that she had worn a baggy one, so it was able to cover her most important parts, just barely. She pulled her knickers on as well and, feeling nervous, exited the bathroom. She took in Sherlock's position, and hoped, prayed even, that he was actually asleep, because now that she was clean, she was utterly knackered, an was looking forward to sleep herself.

No such luck. As soon as she settled her weight on the mattress, Sherlock sat up, and turned to look at her with his deducing look.

She swallowed, and tried her best to ignore him as she laid down, facing away from him. She could feel his eyes boring into her, but it was his words that really shocked her.

"Molly." What was that in his tone? Still, he continued. "I didn't mean to be condescending. You are much more intelligent than a child. I realize I've been less thank thankful for your efforts. I would quite literally be dead without you, so, Thank you."

Molly could feel the heat returning to her cheeks, and, unable to find the right words, she simply nodded, and buried her head into the pillows.

"Good night then, Molly." Sherlock said after a few tense moments of quiet. He laid back down, sighing again, and closed his eyes, thinking that she was still angry with him, rightfully so.

The silence was strained, to say the least.

"You're welcome." she finally spoke quietly, still not turning to him, though the atmosphere in the room definitely changed for the better. "Good night, Sherlock."

she closed her eyes, and snuggled into the pillow, unaware that Sherlock was smiling softly as he too settled comfortably. Amazingly enough, they both slept well, dreaming of each other, with neither aware of the others thoughts.

Remember, each Chapter's a different, unrelated story! Anything from my tumblr account that got a sequel or will get a sequel eventually will eventually be posted as well, but they will get their own story thing. Thing. So articulate XD

So... yup. Hopefully I'll have more posted soon!