For those of you who don't know, there are major spoilers from Sherlock Season 4 ahead! If you have not watched season 4 yet, you may not want to read this story.

Anyways. This story starts off with Molly hanging up the phone after her phone call with Sherlock. This was the famous phone call in episode 3, The Final Problem, where Sherlock had to convince Molly to say "I love you" to him. At first, Molly refused to fulfill Sherlock's request, but she eventually gave in at the last second. This is the aftermath of said Sherlock scene. Please enjoy. XOX -Serenity.


Molly hung up the phone, and wordlessly placed it back on the table. She angrily wiped her tears away.

"You idiot," she whispered to herself. "Why did you say it? Why?"

Even as she asked herself, Molly already knew the answer. She'd said it herself. She still loved him. Ever since she met him she had been in love with him.

Sighing, Molly made her way to the couch and slumped down, defeated. Today had been a terrible day. A frustrating day at work, a rude man on the subway, and an anxious call from her mother's doctor. And now this. Sherlock calling her for another one of his "experiments". Molly wasn't sure if she could survive another minute at the rate things were going.

From her right came a low purring noise. Molly turned to find Toby leaping into her lap, paws outstretched. Even through her tears, she couldn't help laughing. "Thanks, Tobes," she whispered.

Toby blinked up at Molly and noticed her tear-stained face. He growled softly.

"Yes, I know, I know. It's time for us to move on, isn't it?"

Toby nodded and licked his paw.

"You know what, Tobes? You stay right there. I'll go get the wine, and we'll watch some Bridget Jones. We'll moon over Colin Firth, and forget all about this terrible day, hm?" Molly scratched Toby between his ears affectionately. She rose lazily from the couch, and shuffled over to the fridge.

She bent over and opened the fridge. "Let's see, what have we here?"

Molly's mobile buzzed. She ignored it.

"What do you think, Tobes?" she called out. "Shall we crack open the rosé? I know how much you love it!"

Toby growled his assent.

"Excellent." Molly grabbed the bottle of wine and stumbled back to the couch. She grabbed her copy of Bridget Jones from the DVD collection and slid it into the telly.

The telly crackled to life. Immediately, Celine Dion's "All By Myself" blared through the speakers as the beginning credits began to roll.

Molly suddenly had an ironic thought as she sipped the rosé, which was this: she and Bridget Jones were the same person.

Both of us are lonely, single women approaching 40. Both of us are looking for love, but haven't found it yet. (Well, not till the end of the movie, anyways.) Both of us are absolute crap at public speaking.

"And," Molly said aloud, "both of us are having trouble managing the alcohol."

She grinned down at Toby, who purred in agreement.

Sighing, Molly downed the rest of the wine in her glass. She stared forlornly at the empty glass. How had she become so pathetic?

Despite her best efforts, Molly still found her thoughts turning back to Sherlock. This time, he had really and truly crossed the line. Suddenly angry, Molly slammed her empty wine glass down on the table, causing Toby to jump. She glared at the telly, filled with inexplicable rage.

How could he? And she thought he had been getting better. All of these years, she had faithfully attended to him, aiding him with cases at a moment's notice. Rolling out of bed at two in the morning to help him assess a dead body. She had shamelessly served him, day in and day out. And for what?

Molly shook her head. "Well, not anymore," she said aloud. She was surprised to finally hear the words coming out of her mouth. Even Toby perked up and glanced at her curiously.

"I really mean it this time," she said to Toby, who was eyeing her in astonishment. "No more Sherlock. I won't be helping him with cases anymore, either. I'll stop by occasionally to see John, but that's all."

Molly felt as if she had been freed of some burden. All this time, her life had revolved around Sherlock. But now? She was free to do whatever she wanted.

Molly snatched up the bottle of rosé and poured herself a generous helping. She raised her glass and clinked imaginary cheers with Toby. "To freedom," she announced, and drank.