Day Three Prompt: First kisses

Title: Kiss me (like you'll never see me again)

Molly's steps faltered slightly as she entered the morgue and saw Sherlock standing in the middle of the room. She hadn't seen much of the man recently. Not since the day John had dragged the Consulting Detective into Barts for a drugs test. It had been weeks since then, but Molly still felt a bit tense around Sherlock. She had gotten so heated in that moment only to be abruptly cut off before really having a chance to cool down. Things still felt a bit unresolved and Molly wasn't entirely comfortable just yet with the idea of going back to business as usual.

"Oh, hello Sherlock," Molly said politely, her voice a bit more formal than it usually was when she spoke to him.

"Hello Molly," Sherlock replied, his own voice quiet, the raw sound of it giving Molly pause.

Her heart plummeted as she recalled the last time she'd heard him sound like that. Oh god.

"What's wrong?" She demanded, any bitterness she was feeling towards Sherlock a second before completely forgotten. "Tell me what's wrong." The words, echoing in her mind from the memory of that fateful night years ago, spilled from her mouth again now.

"I…" Sherlock cleared his throat, eyes blinking rapidly. Molly felt the unease that had been steadily wrapping itself around her tighten in her chest. "I have to go. I mean I'm… going away, Molly"

"Away?" Molly repeated, breathless. She shook her head. She didn't understand "What do mean? Away where? For how long?"

Sherlock looked at her, his expression pained, and Molly could see the answer in his eyes. "No," she whispered. She shook her head again, the motion frantic this time. Her eyes stung. "But I just got you back." She squeezed her eyes shut. "No, I mean…you just came back. I…" I can't lose you again. Molly swallowed down the words stuck in her throat, not daring to say them aloud, instead, she asked, "Why?"

"It's not important," Sherlock replied.

"It's bloody important to me," Molly all but shouted. "You trusted me with your secrets before, don't shut me out now. Sherlock, please."

Sherlock sighed, eyes closing briefly, and nodded.

Tears were streaming heedlessly down Molly's cheeks by the time Sherlock finished telling her about the what happened with Magnussen and the deal Mycroft had made.

"Oh, Sherlock." Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his hand. She sniffed back her tears. "When…when are you leaving?"

"Now, actually." Sherlock's voice was solemn.

"Now?" Molly's grip tightened fiercely around Sherlock's hand as if someone were physically trying to pull him away from her. If her hold was painful at all, Sherlock didn't seem to mind.

His phone chimed.

"It's Mycroft," Sherlock said without checking. "He's downstairs. I don't have much time. He was reluctant to let me come here in the first place. But I told him that wasn't leaving without telling you goodbye in person. It's the least you deserve from me," he added, lips twitching in brief, small smile. "But he warned me that if I take too long he will come in here and drag me out to the car himself if he has to." Sherlock smirked showing that he didn't take the threat too seriously. "I must admit it would be quite amusing to see him try."

A giggle bubbled up out of Molly's mouth despite herself, the sound wet and hoarse. She bit her lip, trying to keep the fresh tears welling in her eyes from spilling over. Sherlock stepped closer to her, so close that she could feel the heat of his body radiating through his clothes. Her breath caught and she held it in as Sherlock lifted the hand not holding hers to her face, his thumb brushing away an errant tear, tracing over her lips. Then slowly, so slowly, Sherlock leaned down to her face, and before Molly could comprehend what was happening, his lips brushed against hers.

Molly finally released her breath then so that she could take another, breathing Sherlock in. Her free hand curled around the lapel of Sherlock's coat as her lips moved tentatively against his. The kiss was tender and chaste, and more than Molly ever could have imagined. The sweetness of it was made slightly bitter, however, by the 'goodbye' she felt in it. It wasn't fair; Sherlock finally kisses her properly for the first time and it was going to be the last.

Sherlock pulled away first, but Molly could feel his reluctance to let her go. Her chest felt unbearably tight. She slowly opened her eyes to look into Sherlock's, his face still so very close to her own.

"Goodbye, Molly Hooper," he whispered, his voice thick with the emotion he tried so hard not to show.

Molly shook her head slightly, her lips pressed together. She wouldn't say it back to him, she couldn't. Sherlock smiled sadly and he leaned forward again, this time pressing his lips to Molly's forehead. The sob Molly had been trying desperately to keep in, tore itself from her chest, and as Sherlock stepped back she forced herself to let him go.

Molly squeezed her eyes shut tight; she couldn't bring herself to watch him walk away. The sound of his footsteps rang in her ears as he crossed the room, then echoed distantly down the hall for a moment before finally fading away.

x

It was the early hours of the morning when a knock sounded on Molly's door. She was curled up on her sofa, having cried herself to sleep sometime earlier. She opened the door, her red, puffy eyes going wide when she saw who was standing behind it.

"Sherlock?" she whispered, almost wondering if she was dreaming – or had what happened at the morgue earlier been the dream? She wasn't sure, and at moment, she didn't really care.

Sherlock cleared his throat, looking almost sheepish. "Yes, erm, well, it seems there has been a slight change of plans… I don't know if you are aware, but that trouble causing ex-boyfriend of yours was all over the telly earlier. The plane I was on had barely put its wheels up before England descended into chaos. So, suffice it to say I won't be going anywhere after all."

Molly's lips parted but she couldn't find the words to say how she was feeling. But words weren't important right now, she decided. Molly reached out and grabbed Sherlock by the front of his jacket, pulling him over the threshold and closing the door behind him. She pushed Sherlock's back against the door and wrapped her arms around his neck. She lifted herself up on the tips of her toes and kissed Sherlock for the second time, knowing without a doubt it wouldn't be the last.

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