A/N: A quick sequel to Only One Night...it begged to be continued!
Hope you enjoy! Please review!
Sherlock awoke that morning to an empty bed. He sat up and ruffled his hair as he looked around the cabin for Molly. She was busying herself in the kitchen and frequently checking out the front window.
"How did you sleep?" Sherlock questioned.
Molly whipped her head up in surprise and then quickly turned her face away from him. She hoped Sherlock couldn't read the terror and confusion on her face.
"It was, umm," perfect, comfortable, dream-like, heart-stopping? "warm."
Sherlock pretended to not notice how embarrassed and flustered she was.
"Well, shall we get going then?"
Sherlock and Molly gathered their coats and walked out into the snowy weather. Sherlock drove them back to London, the drive slower this time due to the snowy roads. Both Molly and Sherlock remained silent nearly the entire ride, neither one knowing how to address the situation.
Molly politely thanked Sherlock when he dropped her off at her flat.
"Bye, Molly," Sherlock smiled sweetly up at Molly.
Why must he do that to me? Molly complained internally. He was handsome, and intelligent, and now Molly knew what it felt like to be held in his arms and that killed her.
Molly sat expectantly on the edge of her seat while filling out paperwork after her latest autopsy. A few hours ago Lestrade had called her, informing her about a case that Sherlock was consulting on and that him and John needed information about the victim.
The door of the lab clicked open and Molly glanced up hopefully. She had seen Sherlock since the night they spent together, nearly a month ago.
"Hi, Molly," John greeted.
"Oh, John. Hi."
John ignored her disappointment that he arrived alone. "How have you been? It's been a while."
"I'm doing well, thank you," Molly handed John a file on their victim and chatted for a few minutes before he left.
"Sherlock may be by, he has some samples that need to be looked at."
Molly nodded, "thanks, John, I appreciate the, um, warning."
John was right, not two days later Sherlock arrived unexpectedly at the lab and sat before his preferred microscope.
"Hello, Molly," he spoke without lifting his eyes when Molly entered the lab.
"Uhh, oh, Sherlock. Hello," Molly stammered, "I haven't seen you in a while."
"No. you haven't." Sherlock answered.
"Why is that?" She asked nervously.
"I've been busy."
"If you're busy with cases wouldn't that mean you would be here more often?" she inquired quietly.
"No, apparently not, Molly. Because otherwise I would have been here."
"Apparently." Molly voice held a hint of bitterness.
"Molly, I don't have the resources to waste my time analyzing every little thing in this lab. I've got crimes to solve and that doesn't involves wasting my time on silly clues in this ridiculous laboratory and spending time with you!" Sherlock's voice rose with every word until he was shouting at the end.
Molly crossed her arms in front of her body as her eyes welled with tears.
"Molly, I'm-"
Molly quickly shook her head and turned around. She walked calmly towards the door. Sherlock watched her go. As soon as she reached the door and exited she began sprinting down the hall.
Sherlock slid out into the hall and saw Molly still running, her white lab coat flailing behind her.
"Molly!" Sherlock ran after her. She dove down a side hallway and Sherlock followed quickly behind.
He caught up with her only when she collapsed at the end of the hallway.
"Molly. Molly, I'm sorry." Sherlock tried to approach her.
"Stop. Just stop it!" she cried, "I hate that. I hate you and your mean words." Molly's shrieks echoed through the empty halls. "I hate myself for having feelings for you and I hate myself for how I felt after you held me that one night," Molly breathed heavily.
"Molly," Sherlock began.
"No!"
"Listen to me. I haven't come to see you because I've been afraid. I was afraid that if I saw you the…sentiment I feel towards you might increase." Sherlock crouched down in front of her.
Molly glanced up at him through her lashes.
"After that night, I realized that being with you made me feel something. I realized that even if I spent one million nights with you it wouldn't be enough, my dear Molly."
Molly gripped one of Sherlock's shoulders and tangled her other hand in Sherlock's hair. She yanked him close, crushing their lips together.
"One million nights sounds good to me."