CAFE - THE PRESENT

Molly Hooper was on cloud nine. She couldn't keep the enormous grin off her face. And she desperately needed to talk to someone about it, or she would very likely burst.

She was on her way to her favourite café to catch up with Mary Watson.

"Goodness, if that smile gets any brighter I may need to buy some sunscreen," Mary laughed as Molly sat down opposite her.

If possible Molly's grin got even wider.

"So, spill." Mary demanded.

"Where to begin…" Molly began coyly.

"The beginning would be a good starting point," Mary stated as she leaned forward expectantly.

Molly giggled.

"I've never been to a masque ball before," she started. "I was initially quite nervous. But then I thought, everybody here is wearing clothes they wouldn't usually in their everyday lives, and we're all wearing masks. So why not just enjoy pretending to be someone else for a few hours."

Mary nodded encouragingly.

"I'd bought this lovely little yellow dress with a full skirt, with a delicate yellow mask to match," Molly explained. "You know how bad I am at small talk, especially when I'm in a room with people I don't know?"

Mary nodded.

"Well something happened. And I think it was the mask. But I had no trouble at all talking to men at the party."

Molly paused, and a dreamy expression came over her face.

Mary had to nudge her sharply to get her to continue.

"I was talking to this guy when I became aware that I was being observed. I looked around, and then I saw him. He was dressed in black from head to foot. He looked like…"

"Zorro," Mary said.

"How did you know that?"

Mary looked a little uncomfortable. She wriggled in her seat and refused to make eye contact.

Molly's eyes widened with shock. Her expression went from excited to stricken.

"That was Sherlock."

Mary nodded. "He was on a case."

"Oh! My! God!" Molly cried. Her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she remembered what she and the masked man had got up to.

"But it can't have been Sherlock," she tried desperately. "Zorro had straight hair and black eyes."

"Hair gel and contacts," Mary responded.

Molly scrambled to her feet. She grabbed her bag, left enough money on the table for her untouched cappuccino and then headed for the door.

"Molly," Mary called out.

Molly turned. "I… I have to go," she said. "I'll call you later."

After Molly had left Mary got out her mobile and sent a text.

MOLLY'S FLAT

When Molly reached the sanctuary of her flat she let out a sigh of relief.

But that relief was short-lived when she realised she was not alone.

He stepped out of the shadows and took a cautious step towards her. Dressed as he had been the night before, but with two exceptions. The hair under his hat was curly, while his eyes were his unique blue-green.

A mixture of humiliation and rage built up inside Molly, and before she could give herself time to think about it, she stormed over to the consulting detective and began striking him any way she could.

"How could you?" she cried. "You knew it was me didn't you? No, don't bother denying it," she said as Sherlock went to reply.

"Why did you do it?" she demanded. "You knew how I've felt for you all of these years. Did you decide to take pity on me? Give the pathetic little pathologist what she's always dreamed of."

Then a sudden thought struck her. "That's why you never said a word, isn't it? In case I recognised your voice."

Molly's rage ended as quickly as it had begun. All her energy spent, she burst into tears and without realising it, she rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Why Sherlock?" she said, no louder than a whisper. "Why did you do it? Was it to humiliate me?"

Sherlock rested his head against her own as he returned her embrace.

"No Molly, never that. The case was all wrapped up and I was about to head back to Baker St when I spotted my pathologist across the room."

Molly raised her head to look at him enquiringly. "Your pathologist?"

"Obviously," Sherlock haughtily responded, as if there was any other conclusion to be made.

"I have come to realise of late that the feelings I have for you amount to more than just a platonic friendship," he explained. "It occurred to me that the masque ball would be the perfect opportunity to test a theory."

"So, it was an experiment then?" Molly queried.

"Not… exactly, no," Sherlock replied cautiously.

"What was it then?"

Sherlock swallowed nervously. "I've not been in a relationship since I was at Uni, and none of them had ever been serious. This costume offered me anonymity. It made me feel…"

"Brave?"

Sherlock nodded.

"You were certainly that," Molly replied, blushing again at the memory of the passionate kisses they had shared.

Sherlock grinned as he gently grazed his fingers over her heated skin, before cupping her head in his hands. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to hers. Instantly her lips parted, and gentle kisses soon turned blazing hot. Sherlock gently pulled away.

"I would very much like to continue where we left off last night," he said, his voice lowering to the pitch that always made shivers run up and down her spine. "And perhaps take it a step or two further."

Molly looked up into Sherlock's passion-filled eyes. She reached up and removed his hat, and then his mask.

"But are you as brave now that you can no longer hide behind a mask?" she asked teasingly.

She gave a startled yelp as Sherlock swept her up in his arms and made his way purposefully towards her bedroom.

"You'll have to give me your assessment in the morning," he replied as he deposited her on the bed. He then quickly removed his clothes before assisting Molly with hers.