Author Note: I enjoyed the Sign of Three but the ending was incredibly sad. I just couldn't let Sherlock walk away from the party like that! So as far as I am concerned this is what really happened.
Molly saw him from across the ballroom. His curly brown head floating above the dancers. She smiled, feeling pride glowing in her heart. He had pulled it off! Even with an attempted murder at the reception, Sherlock had been a fantastic best man. She had to admit that initially she thought it was going to be a disaster. But as she witnessed Sherlock throw himself into every detail of the wedding her nerves had eased.
She realized that Sherlock was a different man than the one she had met so many years ago. This new Sherlock wasn't afraid to do nice things or let people know he cared. He tried harder to observe the social conventions he found so annoying. He even seemed to have control of his cutting tongue; as evidenced by how (comparatively) gentle he was to Tom after he voiced his ridiculous murder theory. She had never felt such a combination of embarrassment and gratitude. God knows he could have ripped Tom apart. She looked over at her goofy fiancé and smiled. He wasn't the brightest person but he loved her and that was enough.
Molly looked back at Sherlock and saw him glancing uncomfortably around the dance floor. He looked like a lost little boy and a stab of pain went through her heart. She wanted to catch his eye and wave him over to her but one glance at Tom and she realized Sherlock wouldn't feel welcome. Instead her eyes followed him as he walked back to his music stand and then headed for the exit.
Molly quickly mimed to Tom that she was getting air and waved him to stay put. Then she followed the curly head through the crowd.
She caught up to him in the entrance hall where he was just turning from Greg. She waved to the Detective Inspector and he smiled back.
"Save me a dance Molls?" he asked with a grin.
"Of course." she replied. He grinned and gestured to the flashing lights outside.
"Duty calls." he said before turning and heading for the door. Once he left she turned to Sherlock and was surprised to see his coat in his hand.
"You're leaving?" she asked.
Sherlock glanced down at his coat and looked uncomfortable.
"Yes. Well. I think all my duties have been fulfilled." came the clipped response. If Molly hadn't seen his face in the ballroom she might have assumed that Sherlock just wanted to get away from all the social interaction. But she knew there was something more going on. Like always, she had seen him when he thought ho one was looking.
"Your duties are over. And you did a great job. So now you can have fun!" Sherlock responded with a snort causing Molly to roll her eyes.
"Don't pretend you don't like to dance Sherlock. You love dancing." she chided.
Sherlock responded by blinking rapidly and crinkling his forehead. Which made Molly smile and shake her head. Sherlock still had a hard time wrapping his mind around just how much Molly knew about him. Years of crushing on a man that often turned into a functional mute while in the lab had made her an expert in observing Sherlock. She could fill books with the details she knew about the man.
Just then a waltz began to play, the music floating from the open ballroom doors. The music brought Sherlock back to reality. He placed his coat on a nearby chair and turned to Molly with a slight bow.
"Molly Hooper, may I have this dance?" he asked, pitching his voice a little lower than necessary. Suddenly all the playfulness melted from Molly. She felt her knees weaken and took a deep breath. Her heart beat out a staccato and her cheeks flushed as she nodded her assent.
Sherlock stepped close, his manly scent striking her just as his hand settled on her waist. She looked down at his hand and then up into his eyes. She smiled and he smiled in return. Then suddenly they were gliding over the floor.
Molly was an adequate dancer but dancing with Sherlock she felt transported. He lead with surety and grace and she felt graceful and beautiful as their bodies moved together. Using gentle pressure to signal, he guided her around the room. They danced in silence, lost to the movement. Molly found herself staring into his eyes and thought she saw a mixture of joy and pain reflected back. She assumed it was the result of the day, the sadness at the end of an era and the joy he felt for John and Mary. She didn't allow herself to think that any of the emotion was related to her. Despite Sherlock telling her that she counted and mattered more than anyone, she still didn't really believe he felt anything resembling love for her. It was a fact she had made peace with a long time ago. It was her firm believe in Sherlock's inability to have a real relationship that had helped her move on and find Tom.
But as Molly danced with this new Sherlock, his eyes fixed and intense on her, she found herself wondering if maybe, just maybe they could make something work. She loved Tom but there was no denying her attraction and devotion to Sherlock. She couldn't help glancing at his cupid bow lips and wonder for the millionth time what it would feel like to kiss them. She looked back into his eyes, her skin flushing at her inappropriate thoughts, and wondered if Sherlock fully understood the effect he had on her. Just then the waltz ended and they stopped dancing, releasing each other but not stepping away.
"That was." Molly started but realized she didn't know how to finish her sentence.
"Yes it was." he replied with a smirk.
She shook her head, realizing that Sherlock knew exactly what he did to her, and that in all probability he liked doing it. Suddenly Molly snaked her hand around Sherlock's tie and pulled him to her. Their lips met in a clumsy bump that quickly morphed into a more gentle encounter. Sherlock's hands came up to cup her cheeks and Molly sagged against his body for support.
Later Molly would tell herself that she had drunk to much wine and champagne. She would mentally insist that she had intended the kiss as a joke, a way to wipe Sherlock's smirk from his face by teaching him a lesson about leading girls on. She certainly never expected reciprocation and was shocked to realize that Sherlock was enjoying himself, a lot.
When their lips parted Molly rested her head on his chest, not daring to look into his eyes. She wanted to apologize, or explain, or say anything to try and make sense of what just happened. She felt Sherlock's chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath.
"This is perhaps the most ridiculous thing." he said and Molly winced waiting for the verbal lashing her kissing was about to receive. Instead she was surprised to feel Sherlock's hand on her head, flicking her bow.
"I like it!" she said indignantly.
"Yes. Well. You have never had the best fashion sense." Sherlock said with a soft smile. Molly resisted the urge to smile back and instead punched him lightly on the arm.
"Just when I thought you had acquired some manners." she shook her head causing her bow to bounce theatrically. Sherlock let out a chuckle
"Thank You Molly." He said quietly. She smiled slightly in response. "I really must go. Lestrade needs my statement but I expect I will see you in the lab on Monday."
"Yes. Of course." she replied.
"Well then. Until Monday." he smiled and made a short bow before turning for his coat. Molly stared after him, shaking her head. As she turned back to the ballroom guilt and uncertainty began to build inside of her. She had betrayed Tom. But a little voice inside her heart argued that kiss or no kiss the way she felt about Sherlock was not proper for an engaged woman. She sighed realizing how unfair she had been to Tom. She would have to talk to him but not tonight.
Tonight she would enjoy the party, despite Sherlock Holmes, or maybe because of him.
Well hope you enjoyed!