Molly jumped when she heard the door of the lab opening, and quickly tried to calm herself, and wipe down her wet face. She looked up to see the familiar pale detective calmly walking in. He stopped dead, and stared at her. She felt somewhat unnerved at his suddenly observant gaze; his all-seeing eyes completely focused on her, taking everything in.
She gave a nervous smile, and tried to act normal.
"Oh, hello Sherlock. I didn't think you'd be in today. Have you got a new case?" She asked, blushing at his attention.
"You've been crying. What's wrong?" He said, ignoring her question. Her blush deepened, and she averted her eyes.
"I-I.." she stuttered, completely embarressed, and not knowing what to say.
He quickly strode over to her, and gently placed his hands on her upper arms, his touch feather-lite. She snapped her head up to look at him, and blushed even deeper when she saw that he was giving her a very gentle, open look. He gazed into her eyes, and she didn't sense any of the intimidation that Sherlock usually gave her.
"It's alright, Molly. You can tell me. It's about Thomas, isn't it?"
Suddenly, Molly felt the pressure of more tears pushing against her eyes. She couldn't hold it in, anymore. She let out a wail, and hid her embarressment by burrying her face into the warm chest infront of her. She sobbed into Sherlock's designer shirt, and clutched at his jacket, desperate for comfort. In the back of her mind, she felt somewhat surprised at the warm arms that incircled her. Sherlock pressed her even closer, and, much to the shock of Molly, even started gently patting her hair.
"Did you finally find out about his string of lovers?" Sherlock asked, sounding more pitying than condescending. Molly answered him by sobbing louder, and digging her head impossibly deeper into his chest.
"I-I just don't un-derstand wh-what I do that m-makes me s-s-so un-unlovable!" She cried out between choked breaths. She felt Sherlock's grip on her tighten. He then spoke with an insisting, almost threateningly dark voice. It was times like these that made her realize how deep his voice truly was.
"Nothing. You are near perfect. Your only flaw is that you seem to be drawn to completely brainless idiots. Why else would anyone intentionally hurt you?"
Molly felt a shudder run down her spine, and her face turn bright red. She felt a new wave of immense love for the man holding her rush through her heart, and she felt her sobs come less and less. Soon she was just shuddering and snivelling, with the occasional hiccup.
"Th-thank you.." she stammered, thouroughly embarressed.
"I-I'm so sorry," she exclaimed in horror, pulling back from Sherlock, "I got your nice suit all wet, and-oh-I'm so sorry, this is completely unproffessional of me, and-"
"Stop apologizing, it's unbecoming of you. There is no need of it," Sherlock said, matter-of-factly. His eyes and touch were still gentle, though, as he carefully put one hand on her small shoulder, and softly cupped her cheek. He used his thumb to lightly wipe away some of the tears still present.
She leaned into his touch, and felt herself swoon. A small spark of hope flickered in her heart, and she gathered her courage. She looked him in the eye, forcing herself to keep eye-contact.
"Did-did you mean what you said? Before, when I was crying?" She asked, bashfully.
He tightened his hold on her cheek, and let his other hand run down her arm, somewhat. He was careful to keep his touch barely-there, though.
"Every word," he said seriously. He leaned down and the arm that had been on her shoulder snaked around her waist, pulling her closer.
She held her breath as he leaned down even closer. He was going to kiss her. Molly thought she might faint.
He crept closer, and Molly found herself unconciously leaning towards him, as well. She felt his warm breath on her face, and let her eyes flicker closed.
"Molly.." Sherlock whispered, his own eyes threatening to close.
"Hmm?" she replied. She could feel his lips brush against her own as he spoke. She felt the quiet words more than she heard them.
"You deserve...so much.."
Molly felt the tears wanting to be let out, again. She felt her bottom lip tremble, as she desperately clung to the warm body encircling her.
"I'm so sorry," Sherlock whispered. He moved so that he was hugging her again, and squeezed her gently.
"I know," she responded. And she did. She knew why.
They pulled back, and Sherlock gingerly pressed his soft lips against her cheek. She closed her eyes breifly, to soak in the warmth of his lingering touch.
She heard a buzzing sound, and felt all of Sherlock's touch leave her.
"Lestrade texted. New case. I've got to go."
She didn't bother to analyze the strangled sound of Sherlock's voice.
She heard the door swing open, and tilted her head down. She almost didn't hear the faint "Goodbye, Molly," before the door closed again.
Her eyes were still closed five minutes later, when almost all of the warmth she had stolen from her detective was gone. Only then did she realize that the small wetness left on her cheek wasn't hers. Sherlock had been crying.
Yikes! Went alittle angsty there at the end..
I wrote this because I am under the impression that Sherlock and Molly love eachother, but they can't be together because Sherlock is married to his work, and is...Sherlock...They both know they can't be together, and it kills them inside, so Molly tries to forget about it by clinging to any new guy that will give her the light of day, hense her poor boyfriend choice.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Sherlock. Unfortunetly...
Also, sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes; I don't have a beta or spell-check or anything.
Tell me what you think!