Molly thought she would still feel angry or upset in the morning after that phone call, but a vague text from John before going to sleep put her more at ease.
Please, Molly, just go easy on him. It wasn't his fault. –JW
She had honestly expected for Sherlock to stop by last night but he hadn't. Molly couldn't help but feel disappointed. As she worked in the lab at the microscope the consulting detective himself claimed as his own, someone grabbed her arm and urged her off of the stool.
"What the—"she stopped when it dawned on her that Sherlock was tugging her along to the supply closet. When the door shut behind them, the cramped space already began to feel smaller than it was. "Sherlock Holmes, are you out of your damn—mmm!" His hand covered her mouth.
"Molly, I just need you to please listen to me before you start spouting off how much you hate me," Sherlock spoke quickly in a whisper. His palm suddenly felt wet and he quickly pulled it away from her mouth. "Did you just lick my hand?"
"Yes, to keep you from accidentally suffocating me," she countered, amused by his shock. "I could never hate you."
"Good…that's, uh, good," he replied quietly, wiping his hand on his Belstaff.
"Why are you whispering?" Molly bit back a laugh.
"I just am, now listen, you need to know how I—mmph!" Sherlock felt his brain short-circuit; at least he thought it was. Molly Hooper was snogging him. His Molly. When he finally allowed himself to relax into her embrace, his tongue slipped through the seam of her lips. Sherlock could no longer scoff at the term 'sparks fly' because the electricity between them was intoxicating.
"I know," Molly breathed out when they parted. "How you feel, I mean." He blinked at her in surprise. "I have known for a while now; well, since you returned from your two years away. That conversation in the stairwell and the way you were looking at me; the way you kissed my cheek, so close to my lips. I just—I've always known. You don't have to say the words; it's fine."
"Molly," he said.
"I feel awful for how I forced it out of you, though I'm still not sure why I had to say it, but—" she stopped talking when his lips crashed into hers once more.
"Would you kindly be quiet for five minutes?" he murmured. Molly motioned zipping her lips.
"I have a sister who is so incredibly intelligent, she's mentally unstable," Sherlock explained. "I did not know anything about her until yesterday. Mycroft, John and I were put through a series of tests, though they were built for me only. One of those tests had a coffin meant for you. The epitaph had the words etched on it and I was told I had to get you to say it, as it was supposedly the release code for a bomb at your flat. There was never any bomb." He stopped to catch his breath. "The point of the test wasn't to kill you, but to rip my heart open. She counted on you making me say it because that's what she wanted out of it."
"God, Sherlock, I'm so sorry. If there's anything you need…do you have anywhere to stay? I heard Baker Street was blown up…again. You could stay with me," Molly offered.
"Always so selfless," he mused.
"Sherlock," she spoke softly. "Is there anything you need? Anything at all?"
"Just you," he replied honestly. "Your love for me is a most peculiar thing in my eyes, only because I have no idea what I have done to deserve such a gift. But I want to thank you for loving me even when I was a complete arsehole to you."
"You deserve love, Sherlock, and you really haven't been as bad to me as you think you have," Molly told him. "You deserve every bit of love I hold for you." She smiled at him. "Now, I think we should get out of here before we lose oxygen."
"From being locked up in a supply closet or from snogging?" Sherlock asked cheekily.
"Both," she laughed, turning the knob. "Oh no. No no no no no."
"What's wrong?" he questioned.
"The door's jammed," Molly answered.
"Not to worry, Greg's on his way up anyways," Sherlock informed her. Her jaw dropped. "What?"
"You finally got his bloody name right!" she exclaimed. The sound of the lab doors opening alerted them. "Greg, can you get this door open?" she shouted.
"What are you doing locked up in a supply closet?" Greg asked bemusedly.
"Just please get us out of here before we lose our breath," Sherlock told him.
"Sherlock!? You too?" Greg chuckled. "This is a new development." The door swung open and Molly tripped over Sherlock's foot as she attempted to walk out. Sherlock caught her in his arms before she hit the ground.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Never better," Molly looked up at him.
"Did you two wanna be left alone or?" Greg teased. They jumped apart slightly, both blushing a shade of pink. "Boy, Anderson's gonna have a field day with this."
Author's Note: hello lovely readers! this story is unique in the way that I am basing chapters off of one liner dialogue prompts from my friends on tumblr. The story will connect; it is NOT a collection of one shots, so I hope this goes well lol!