Hello everyone! I received such an overwhelming respond to my latest series "5 times John Watson was there for someone and one time everyone was there for John Watson". It was so amazing to see so many enjoy my work and each and every review and kodus made me smile so much. Several requested if I would do a similar series with Sherlock Holmes and I've decided to do so! I've been plotting this for a long time so I hope you guys will enjoy this work as well. Thanks again so much for the feedback, this is such a great community to be a part of!

WARNINGS! While this story is going to have mentions of drugs and drugs used with the intention of sexually assault, there will be no full-blown completion of rape. This might still trigger some readers and so you should be aware. I have no intentions of offending anyone and I have (thank God) no experience or know anyone who has been victim of this kind of assault so I'm writing from my own imagination of how this might go down. You have been warned.

Sherlock sat bend over the over the microscope in Molly's lab in the pathology department at St Barts hospital. The experiment he was conducting was rather simple and more out of curiosity than need. He could have performed it just as well at home in Baker street, but John had invited Greg and some colleagues from the Yard and the hospital over to watch some mind-numbing football game there. It was supposedly a big and important match, but Sherlock had not fancied sitting around listening to hooligan shouting all night. John had offered to relocate them all to the nearest sports bar, but Sherlock didn't want to deny his lover his 'guy night' and had reassured John he could easily spend a few hours at St Barts. John had rewarded him with a wide smile and a quick kiss before popping out for snacks and beers for the evening.

Sherlock inhaled deeply, taking in the comforting scents of disinfectants and chemicals. It'd been some time since his last visit to Molly's lab. He'd missed the atmosphere. Molly always kept her workspace and supplies in sublime order and best of all, she allowed Sherlock access to her lab whenever he wanted. As long his usage didn't interfere with her daily work, he could more or less come and go as he pleased. It was rather late so there wasn't much life outside the door to the hospital hallway, except the evening staff patrolling by now and then. Sherlock allowed his mind to emerge itself at the experiment at hand, enjoying the peace and quiet. As long as it lasted anyway..

Molly burst through the entrance, letting out a screech as the spring mechanism in the hinges caused the doors to backlash into her, making her drop her armload of papers along with a thermos of coffee. In seconds the lab's calm tranquillity had turned into a chaos of spilled coffee soaking into the fallen papers on the floor and Molly frantically dropping to her knees to save the documents. She hadn't even noticed Sherlock from his seat right on the other side of the desk yet.

"Molly?" Sherlock said questioningly, both in confusion as to why Molly was even still working at this late hour and also to make his presence known to her.

At the sound of her name Molly jumped in fright with yet another high-pitched screech. "Oh God.. Sherlock.." She exclaimed as she located him at her desk.

Sherlock's first reaction when she'd entered had been annoyance for being disrupted in his work. He knew of course that it was selfish of him since it really was he intruding on Molly's domain, but he'd been looking forward to a few quite hours with his work. That feeling quickly disappeared though as he looked her over at he still kneeling position on the floor.

Red rimmed eyes – been crying, recently

Bags under her eyes – stressed and exhausted

Papers dropped on the floor, dates on top of the pages several days old – behind on work

Thermos filled with coffee – Molly is a tea drinker, only drinks coffee in the morning for the caffeine, never in the evening

Conclusion: Molly is overworked and dangerously close to a stress related breakdown

Only two years earlier Sherlock would have made all these deductions, ignored Molly and exited quickly. Not because he didn't care back then, but because he'd had no idea how to act empathetically or interpret emotions well enough to offer the right responds. Sherlock had been burned many a times growing up for sociable unacceptably behaviour when trying to do as people expected, especially in emotional charged situations. This had resulted in his developing his defensive mechanism to either be dismissive or simply leave in such situations, earning him his labels as a 'freak' and 'psychopath' in his youth. That was until John came into his life. John had not only accepted his eccentric nature, but was also the first person (not counting his family) to see beyond his facade of indifference and recognize the emotions hidden behind, that he struggled so hard to express. John had patiently guided Sherlock to act better on his own feelings as well as others'. In the end helping him to the point where he finally found the courage to recognize and admit his feelings for John only six months ago. To find John return his feelings still counted as the happiest moment in Sherlock's life.

Sherlock admits he still struggles with offering the 'right' actions of empathy and sympathy. Despite his growing acknowledgement of his own and other's feelings, he still isn't comfortable with overloads of sentiment and emotional outburst. But right now, at this point he did feel a tug of worry seeing Molly in such a state and felt the need to try and offer at least some kind of comfort.

"Molly, are you okay?" It was a mindless question to ask as he already knew the answer and the cause, but John had advised him to let people share their own thoughts. Apparently, most people didn't appreciate having their personal problems deduced and announced publicly and clinically.

Molly looked up through her eyelashes that were still clumped together by recent tears as she slowly rose back to her feet, coffee stained papers back in her hands. She sniffed once and shifted her gaze to her feet before she spoke; "Yeah.. Or no.. I mean I'm just so far behind with work and my boss just chewed me out because I haven't finished some important biopsy analyses, I have two autopsies waiting that needs to be done tonight and with all the paperwork that follows.. God I'm rambling, sorry. it's not your problem and I'm sorry Sherlock, but you can't be here tonight. I need my lab.. I'm in for an all-nighter if I'm to have any hope finishing it all in time." Molly said apologetically as if she was asking for the moon instead of claiming her own workspace. She walked quickly over to the other side of the desk to put her papers down, staying on the other side of Sherlock. She still refused to look him in the eyes, clearly embarrassed about her appearance.

Sherlock recognized the growing feeling in his chest as empathy. He knew his treatment of Molly in the past had been less than ideal. While he'd always respected her professionalism in her work he'd taken advantage of her obvious crush on him more times than he liked to admit. He'd manipulated her to break work protocol, using her free time assisting in various experiments for his cases and at his lowest even stooped to having stolen her access key to the medical department to steal supplies for his 'self-medication' without her ever knowing. Again, John had been the one to make him realise how damaging his behaviour was, not only to himself, but most of all to Molly. Sherlock had tried to make amends as well as possible since, but it has been a process over time which he's still working on. To top it all of it's obvious, that even after learning of the romantic development in Sherlock and John's relationship six months ago, Molly still hasn't been able to diminish her crush on Sherlock completely. Though it's clear she'd making a bigger effort to hide it.

Sherlock took a deep breath as he made up his mind, he can't leave Molly in this state and God knows he owes her big from all the times she's helped him. It's time he return some of the favours. "Let me help you then. I'm more than capable to help with the biopsy analyses, I'm sure I'll be a proficient assistant doing autopsies and I can fill out paperwork as well as any." He says with an optimistic air and even offers an encouraging smile in the end.

Finally, Molly looks up from the desk top to catch Sherlock's gaze. Her entire demeanour hesitant as she answers; "Really? You'd do that.. For me?"

"Of course, consider me your very own personal assistants for as long as you need." Sherlock says, hoping his words are reassuring.

Molly looks thoughtful, but seems to brighten up just a bit. "It's going to be dull you know. It's all just time-consuming routine work. You hate that." She states.

Sherlock shrugs. "True, but I'm sure I'll manage. It's the least I can do for all the times you've helped me. I know I might not be the best at expressing my gratitude, but I very much appreciate what you do for me Molly. I'd like to give some of it back." Sherlock makes sure to portray his honesty in both his voice and expression, in the hopes it's enough to convince Molly he's serious.

It works apparently, because Molly finally manage to break out a small smile. "That's.. Really nice of you Sherlock.. That'd be lovely.. Thank you." She says in a small voice.

Sherlock claps his hands once, relieved to have his offer accepted. "Brilliant, now you go find the biopsy samples that needs to be analysed and I'll go find us a fresh pot of coffee so we can get started."

"That'd be nice." Molly agreed as she started to pull out the equipment necessary for their work.

As Sherlock wandered down the hall in search of coffee he pulled out his phone to send a quick text to John to let him know he'd be staying late at the hospital. Another habit John had worked hard to teach him as the good doctor has a tendency to worry excessively when not knowing where Sherlock is. Probably a side effect from the two of them experiencing too many kidnappings than should be possible. Granted that Mycroft is behind several of them, but still.

Helping Molly out with work. Not sure when I'll be home so don't wait up. Love you. – SH

Sherlock had located a kitchen, brewed a fresh pot of coffee and was making his way back towards the lab as he received a text in answer from John;

That's really nice of you love. Thanks for letting me know. Arsenal is in the lead 2-0, so we're counting on a victory. May head out to a pub afterwards so we'll see who gets home first then. Love you too. – JW

Sherlock chuckled at his mobile screen. Honestly, he'd never understand the fascination of a game consisting of a bunch of sweaty men, running around like fools, trying to kick a ball into a net. He'd choose boring biopsies and paperwork over football any day.

When he walked back through lab doors Molly was already pulling out the slides to be tested. She looked up with a face of gratitude as Sherlock poured them both a cup of coffee.

"Right then." Sherlock said as he took his place at Molly's side. "What will you have me do boss?" He asked playfully, successfully drawing a small laugh from Molly.

"Well, if you'd take a dictate while I review these slides under the microscope that'd be great." She answered as she slid the first sample into place. Sherlock nodded and pulled over the open laptop Molly had set up and tapped away as Molly meteorically announced her findings and notes to be taken down.

Together as a team Molly and Sherlock worked effortlessly. They were in sync, focused and effective as they made their way through the large stack of biopsies to work through. Afterwards they made their way to the morgue, where Molly did the autopsies and Sherlock weighted the organs, noted findings and assisted with the various tasks required. Afterwards they headed back to the lab to write up the different paperwork that needed to be completed, sent and filed. The clock on the wall read 2:55 as the final journal was filed.

Molly sat back and sighed in relief. "Thank God we're done. I'm so tired I feel like I could sleep for a week." She stretched her arms over her head to try and ease some of the tension out of her body after sitting still for so long, before turning to Sherlock with a soft smile. "I don't even want to think about how long I'd been if I'd been on my own. Thank you so much for your help Sherlock." She said, her appreciation thick in her voice.

Sherlock returned the smile and did a few stretches of his arms as well. His blazer laying on the back of his chair and shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows, having given up his usually put together look for comfort halfway through the night and his curly hair a ruffled mess from running his fingers through it several times. "It was no problem really. Better use of my time than football with John and his Arsenal fanclub of friends." He answered.

Molly's smile seemed to falter just a bit by the mention of John. "Right. So you and John are still.." She didn't seem to know how to finish her sentence and a sense of slight panic arose in her. "Not that I hoping you aren't! I was just curious as how everything is going.. With you two, you know and.." She seemed to lose her voice yet again and started to nervously fuss with a strand of her hair.

Sherlock eyed her calmly. He sensed that this was a moment where he had to tread very carefully. It was his own fault for having giving her false hope all these years, by flirting with her whenever he wanted something. But it was time to set things straight now, he owed her that much. "Yes, things with John are good, really good. He makes me happy and have made me a much better man than I used to be."

"Great, that's great." Molly said in an attempted cheerful voice, but shifted her gaze to her lap clearly trying to hide her disappointment.

Sherlock took a deep breath and placed a hand gently on Molly's forearm, making the pathologist look back up at him. "Listen Molly. I know I haven't always treated you as well as I should have. I've been dismissive and manipulative in the past. Back then I didn't think much about what consequences my actions would have on you and I'm sorry and ashamed of how I acted. But.. I am definitively gay and I do love John. I understand this might not be what you wanted to hear, but you deserve someone much better than me at any rate. I promise to do you better and I hope you know you're always welcome to ask me for my help whenever you need it as well as I hope to still count on your help with cases now and then." Sherlock ended, hoping this was a kind enough way to tell the truth.

Molly still looked a bit droopy, but still offered what to Sherlock looked to be a sincere smile. "I know.. I see how you two look at each other and it's clear you belong together. But I guess I was still selfishly hoping you'd suddenly by some miracle realise I was the one. I appreciate your honestly though, it's more than you've ever offered me in the past. He's good for you, John, you really are more considerate and happy than ever and I see that now. I know I can count you Sherlock and of course you can count on me too. You and John both."

Sherlock felt like a stone had been lifted from his conscious, having the air cleared between them had felt better than he thought and he was happy Molly didn't seem to take the hit too hard.

Afterwards Sherlock and Molly proceeded to pack up their stuff and exited the hospital out into the cold October night. They said their goodbyes and Sherlock even offered up a quick one-armed hug, something Molly had never seen him offer anyone before. They headed off in each their direction.

As Molly walked through the chilling night air she found that a supple peace had settled in her chest, that she hadn't felt in a long time. Yes, she was disappointed that the man she'd pined after for so many years was now utterly out of her limits, but it had also left room for a feeling of relief and freedom to finally move on. Not long ago she'd never imagined Sherlock would ever had offered to help with her mundane work and tonight he'd stayed with her the whole night assisting her. Though she knew now she'd never have him in her life in the romantic sense of the word she felt a new kind of gratitude to have him as a close friend and that was enough.