Hi Guys! This is fic based on a prompt I saw on tumblr. babavaniteshwar, this one is for you. thanks so much for your help. (you can see the link to the photo on my profile) I hope you like reading it. Also, Please leave tons of reviews. Thanks. Enjoy!

Hold me Close

Molly was cocooned in her bed with her favorite blanket and was never going to get out. Ever. The past few weeks had been horrible. Actually, calling them horrible was the understatement of the century. It was like saying that Sherlock Holmes could be a little harsh or living with him (occasionally) could be trying sometimes.

It had all started with Sherlock jumping off the roof of St. Bart's and dying. Well, not actually dying but pretending to be dead.

John's grief had been unpalatable. A part of Molly just wanted to take him in her arms and tell him everything, of course then everything Sherlock had done would be completely moot. Then when she had gone back to work a few days ago, she had found out she was under investigation for working closely with Sherlock Holmes and giving him unlimited access to her lab.

To make things worse, she had gotten her period the day before and she hurt. And to top it all, today was her father's death anniversary. She had gone to the graveyard early in the morning. She missed him so much, he had been the only person she could truly be comfortable around. He had understood her, approved of her decisions and stood up for her when he thought that someone needed to. And now he was gone and though it had been two years, She missed him and she was in pain, though the latter was probably cramps. So, here she was listening to her comfort music, curled up and she was never getting out of bed.

The sudden squeaking of her front door opening put a dampener on her plans. She sighed to herself and got out of bed and went to her living room, not bothering with her slippers. There was only one person who would enter her flat without permission.

"Molly, a coffee please. Black, two sugars. I need to think." Sherlock was sitting on the couch, his back was towards her. Molly rolled her eyes. She was too tired for him, too drained physically and emotionally to deal with Sherlock and his…his tantrums. "Sherlock, not today. Please. I can't handle y-this today."

Sherlock turned around at Molly's words. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, probably to start deducing her- "No."

"What?" She had managed to surprise Sherlock twice in under five minutes, it was her lucky day Molly thought sarcastically.

"I said no. I'm tired, I don't want you to deduce me or insult me which is the same thing most of the time. Please make your own coffee, you are an intelligent man. I'm sure you can handle it."

She could see Sherlock deducing her, his eyes travelling from her coat that hung on the rack to her muddied shoes that lay in corner to her clothes and finally came to rest on her face. He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable.

"You've been crying."

Molly rolled her eyes, she seemed to be doing that a lot today.

"No shit, Sherlock. And you probably know why. So, I am going to bed, listening to sappy music which makes me happy and I am going to lay on my bed the entire day. I could probably do with a cup of tea but I have spent all my remaining energy talking to you."

Molly turned around and walked off. She shouldn't have been so short with him. But it was still better than being at his beck and call. A few months with him had robbed her of any romantic notions about Sherlock. John Watson deserved a saint hood if not less for living with him for 18 months. Molly shuddered at the thought of doing that herself.

She was almost asleep when her bedroom door opened. Quiet footsteps came to her bedside and stopped. "Molly…Molly."

Molly groaned. Why couldn't he just listen? She opened her eyes to give him her dirtiest look when her expression gave way to surprise. Sherlock Holmes was standing at her bedside. With a cup of tea. Sherlock Holmes had a cup of tea in his hands that he had apparently made for her. She looked from his hands to his face, not quite knowing what to do. He held out the tea, it was clearly an apology.

She sat up on bed, and quickly took it from him before he got impatient or irritated and did something like throwing it away. Hesitantly, she took a sip and drew back in surprise. It was quite good, perhaps the best she had ever tasted. "Thank you." He was standing by her bed looking like a petulant twelve year old boy who had been unjustly punished by his teacher. She was beginning to understand how John had managed to live with him; she still wasn't sure about the 'why'. She shifted on her bed, making room for him. She could be nice if he could.

She had to admit that she was surprised when he sat down next to her, swinging his long legs up on the bed. Their silence was surprisingly comforting, their shoulders pressing. "Did you put something in the tea?" Molly asked, it had done wonders for her stomach. "Honey. It is supposed to help…your stomach." She leaned across the other side of the bed and put the saucer on the bed side table.

Suddenly, an idea struck her. "Sherlock, I'm not trying to make a move on you, alright?" Sherlock barely had the time to question her when she leaned into his side, and nestled her head on his shoulder. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine her dad's arms around her. Her breath hitched and her eyes started stinging at the thought of her dad. What was wrong with her today?

To her surprise, Sherlock's arm came around her, pulling her slightly closer. For the first time in a long time Molly felt safe and that she and Sherlock were actually friends. She had never been sure what she was to him. Their relationship or whatever this was, would never be equal and she accepted that.

Molly almost had her tears under control when the next song ripped her heart out.

Well, I love a rainy night

I love a rainy night,

I love to hear the thunder

Watch the lightning,

When it lights up the sky,

You know it makes me feel good.

It was her dad's favorite song. Whenever she was upset he used to just play the song, make her stand on his feet and just sway to the music. It had been their song.

Showers wash all my cares away,

I wake up to a sunny day.

"Did it help?" What? She hadn't realized she was speaking out loud. "Yeah," her voice cracked with emotion, "It did. It always did. We danced to this song two days before he died."

Puts a song in this heart of mine,

Puts a smile on my face every time.

As they listened to the song, Molly let the lyrics wash over her. A deep baritone joined the singing. The song shouldn't have suited his voice, but somehow it did. His voice was amazing.

Well, I love a rainy night,

You can see it my eyes,

I love a rainy night,

Well, it makes me high

Sherlock caught her looking at him. It was a day for firsts apparently, because for the first time she saw Sherlock Holmes conscious. "What?" he asked defensively. "Nothing, you have a lovely voice." They sat there for god knows how long.

They listened to track after track just basking in the music, with Molly occasionally mouthing the lyrics. The last song, another favorite had just started when suddenly Sherlock moved and stood up on the bed.

Hold me close, don't let me go, oh no.

I, yes I love you and I think that you know

Do ya know

With your love light shining

Every clouds got a silver lining

So hold me close, don't let me go.

Lord, he was tall. He looked down at her and held out his hand. "Maybe it's time you called another song yours. So, shall we dance?" Wordlessly, Molly slipped her hand into his and stood up. They swayed to the music, while holding on to each other.

It's so good to hav-a-ya near me

So, hold me close don't let me go.

And if that road gets weary, Oh I love you,

Waiting here if you need me

'Cause I love the things that you do.

She put her head on his shoulder, comforted by his touch. She thought of a time when being this close to Sherlock would have given her palpitations.

So hold me close, hold me close, hold me close, don't let me go

Hold me close

Closer girl

Hold me close

When the song was over, Sherlock gently untangled himself from her, got down from the bed and then helped her down as well. Molly couldn't believe what had just taken place.

After a few moments he leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Goodbye Molly."

"When will you come again?" Molly asked before she could help herself. This was not the Sherlock she was used to, it worried her.

"Soon. And Molly?"

"Yes?"

"If anybody finds out a word about…this, nothing is going to stop me from deducing you." And with a dramatic swish of his coat he was gone. Molly smiled despite herself, her cramps and a little of her sorrow forgotten.

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The two songs are 'I love a Rainy Night' by Eddie Rabbit and 'Hold me close' by David Essex.