Sherlock looked at the clock on the wall in the lab. Molly is an hour late for her shift. Hmmm, very unusual for the customarily punctual pathologist. Frowning, he pulled on his coat and headed out to check the morgue, disappointed when he only found Mike completing paperwork.

'Oh hi Sherlock. Can I help you with anything? There are no new bodies..?'

'Where is Molly?It's her shift.' he asks rather brusquely, irritated by the fact that Molly isn't where she is meant to be.

'Oh, she sent a text last night, said she wouldn't be coming in today. Taking a personal day. I can help you if you need anything?'

'A personal day?' he asks confused, not quite understanding the meaning, but Mike just shrugs apologetically and says, "Guess she has some stuff to work out."

Sherlock turns and heads out to the street to hail a taxi. .

Ten minutes later Sherlock let himself into Molly's flat, not bothering to knock. He walked around the sofa to find the pathologist huddled under her quilt, apparently watching some romantic drivel on television. The curtains are all closed, tissues are spread across her coffee table next to an empty mug, another clutched in her fist, dabbing at her red nose, her eyes are swollen and red rimmed and glued to the TV set where a woman jumps into a bearded man's arms and they kiss. Sentiment. And why are they standing in the rain? Apparently it means something to Molly though, as she gives a small sob and dabs at her nose again.

Sherlock clears his throat and Molly shrieks at her intruder. 'Sherlock! What the hell are you doing here? Can't you knock?' she shouts as she sits up and pulls the blankets higher to her chest.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'I'm here because you weren't at Barts. Obvious. I could knock but its such a waste of time.'

She shakes her head incredulously, too used to his antics to argue and with no real energy to care. 'What do you want Sherlock? I can't go in to work today, I can't help you.'

Sherlock surveys the situation again, the romantic movie, the tissues, the tear stained cheeks and swollen eyes. Ah, so after 4 dates...whatitsface...must have called it off. He sighed and sat down on the sofa by her feet, unsure of how to proceed. He could hear Johns voice in his head cautioning him to be "sensitive" to the situation.

He reached out his hand and put it on the blanket over her ankle and looked up at her dejected face. 'So...uh...whatshisname broke up with you. Really though Molly, 4 dates is hardly sufficient time to harbour any real sentiment for the man.'

Molly snorts softly, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. 'It's not that Robert doesn't want to be with me, Sherlock. Its that nobody does'

She stares down at her hands miserably, picking at her thumb nail. Sherlock scoots up the sofa next to her still outstretched legs, to settle a little closer to her.

'Molly, any man who doesn't want to be with you must be the most absurd and ridiculous man and you don't want to be with a man like that.'

Molly closed her eyes, bringing her hand up to her forehead and rubbing at her temples before she looks at him pleadingly.

'Sherlock please, I'm feeling a bit vulnerable right now. I can't take your false flattery today, I know that sentiment isn't something you understand so you don't know what it does but please. I thought we were past that.'

Without knowing what else to do, he stretched out his hand to rest on Molly's in her lap to still her, looking at her earnestly, hoping she could see his sincerity. 'I'm not being false molly, he truly is an idiot if he doesn't want to be with you.'

'Sherlock, please. I really do appreciate you coming here and I know you're trying to be nice and you mean well and but its not helpful when I'm just reminded that you don't want me either. I'm sorry. Just let me have today, I'll help you tomorrow, yeah?'

Sherlock looked at the plead in her eyes, to just be left alone. But he couldn't bring himself to leave, not when she was hurting and he could ease her. He put his head down and ruffled his hands through his hair, trying to find the words and the courage to say them. He took a deep breath and leaned his elbows on his knees, eyes trained on a mark on the coffee table to avoid looking at her.

'Molly...'

'Sherlock, no...'

'Molly, listen to me!'

His blue eyes quickly shot to hers before returning to the coffee table but she found she couldn't argue with the fire in his eyes.

'I am an absurd and ridiculous man, I'm an idiot. But not because I don't want you.'

He scrubbed his hand over his face before looking at up at her, his features knotted with consternation, wringing his hands nervously. She had never seen him like this before.

'Molly, I am a ridiculous man because I do want you, I want something I could never hope to deserve.'

Molly could not find the air to breathe at the weight of his confession, the weight of his eyes on hers.

'I never told you because I hoped that you would move on from me if you never knew. You really should Molly.'

He hung his head. 'But I cant bear to think that you feel unworthy when the truth is they're not worthy. I'm not.'

All these years she had believed she wasn't good enough to for Sherlock, that he had not thought enough of her to take any notice when the truth was that he had hidden his feelings because he thought he wasn't good enough. Ridiculous indeed.

Molly scooted forward on the couch, coming to rest just in front of Sherlock who was still staring at the coffee table. She put one hand softly on his leg and looked over his shoulder into his face.

'Sherlock,' she whispered, 'look at me.'

He clenched his jaw and looked up at her through the corner of eyes.

'You are an idiot' she began softly, scrunching her nose as she smiled at him, 'if you think you don't deserve me then I'm afraid to say you are. Sherlock, I've loved you for 6 years. I tried to move on before...but its always been you. It will always be you. You're the only one I've ever wanted.'

'I can't...I'll hurt you Molly.'

'Sherlock Holmes, it's time you evaluate the evidence. For 6 years I've taken everything you've ever thrown at me and I'm still here. I know who you are and I think I have proved that I'm capable of loving you.'

Sherlock could only stare at her as her words settled on him. His blue eyes bore into hers with such force it made her heart ache as he searched her face for the truth of her words. His face softened when he found the answers there and Molly smiled knowing he understood.

Slowly he leaned towards her and pressed a soft, tender kiss on her lips. Molly lifted her hand to his curls and pulled him closer. She parted her lips and Sherlock deepened the kiss, pushing Molly back down to lie on the couch as he kissed her, all his suppressed feelings rushing to the surface looking for release. He kissed her passionately and lovingly. When the need for air became urgent he gave her one more quick peck and rested his forehead against hers.

'My Molly'