A/N: English is not my native language so please ignore my grammar mistakes if there are any. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but this fanfiction. All credit goes to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and BBC.
He had plenty of places to go on an emergency situation. He decided what places would be the safest in the whole London a long time ago, because he always had to be one step ahead of his enemies. These places were the most unexpected ones, so it was a low chance someone actually would pay them a visit to look for Sherlock Holmes. No. They were safe and reliable. And today, he needed to visit one of them. A particular one. Not because he was in danger though. He was just bored and needed some company. As always, John was busy snogging Mary and well… Sherlock didn't have many friends, now, did he? Calling Mycroft was of course out of question.
As he was walking through the streets, he kept deducing people just for fun. A man who was cheating on three women at the same time was buying flowers for one of those women he was about to meet at a café and lie about why he was so late, then a porn watcher walked past him, and lastly, a drunk couple making out in the alley saw him walking towards them but didn't stop what they were doing. It repelled him so he decided not to take that road. The wild world outside always frustrated him as much as it fascinated him.
So when he finally reached the apartment, he sighed in relief. Finally some silence and peace.
He opened the door with the spare keys he had and entered the flat, closing the door behind him slowly. He could see the living room from where he stood. The TV was open but no one seemed to be watching it. He frowned and with silent steps, he approached the old couch to find the petite woman lying there, napping. His lips formed a small smile as he sat on the other couch right in front of the one Molly was sleeping on. For a few minutes, he sat there, analyzing Molly but then he gave up. He was tired of deducing Molly every single day and he knew it irritated her so much. He was trying to be respectful towards her.
Suddenly it felt so peaceful that he couldn't prevent his eyelids from closing. He always noticed the fact that this place made him feel… at home. But that fact scared him. Because then he would want to come everyday. He did want to come everyday. Yet, this was Molly's place and they agreed on him coming only when it was an emergency. So by sleeping on that couch at that moment, he was actually breaking a rule. Not that he would mind doing so.
Molly scretched her arms wide and yawned, covering her mouth with her small hand. The first thing she noticed was that the TV was on the whole time and she cursed under her breath. Then she sat up to a sitting position and finally noticed Sherlock sleeping on the couch in front of her. Her eyes opened wide, immediately jumping out of her seat and approaching him to examine if there was any wound on him.
Just when she touched his arm slowly, a hand catched hers and stopped her in her tracks. She turned her head and saw Sherlock staring right into her eyes.
"Are you okay?" she asked, worried.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat up straight on the couch. "I am fine, Molly. Stop panicking."
Molly sighed in relief and sat on the couch, right beside Sherlock. She didn't mind invading his personal space. He always invaded hers anyway. "You know you are supposed to come to my flat only when it's an emergency."
"Yes, I know. But I was bored." Was his only reply before standing up and making his way to the kitchen.
Molly followed him to the kitchen and saw him turning the kettle on. "What do you want, Sherlock?" she asked, her arms folded on her chest. Sometimes he was impossible to understand. Was he high again? Did she need to make him pee in a cup again to see if he had been on drugs? God, she hoped not. Because one time he came to her flat super high and she had no idea what to do. It was probably the longest day of her life.
Sherlock didn't turn around to answer her as he was making tea for both of them. "I only want to stay here for the night. If that's okay with you."
His sincerity was something she still couldn't get used to. Plus, he was trying to be more polite which was hard to get used to. Sometimes his new behaviour felt so strange to Molly and she just wanted the old Sherlock back. Missing his insults was weird though.
"Okay." She answered and went back to the living room. Just when she made her way to the bedroom, to change the sheets and everything, Sherlock called after her. He was holding two cups full of tea. She gratefully took the one he offered her from him.
"I'm going to prepare the room now. I know how much you hate to see my stuffed animal on the bed." She said and chuckled. So did he.
Well, what everyone didn't know was that this was the hideout he used the most. And contrary to popular belief, he didn't make Molly sleep on the couch. Or he himself slept on the couch. No. The truth was, they both slept in the same bed. Molly's bed. She had a small flat and there was no spare bedroom that she could give Sherlock. But Sherlock, even though he didn't sleep much, was very picky when it came to where he was sleeping. He would want a comfortable place and a soft pillow. Molly's company was a plus to all of this.
According to Molly, Sherlock has seen the most private thing Molly had. Her bedroom. And the stuffed bear that she always held while sleeping. It was childish, yes, but it made her feel safe. She would sometimes talk to the bear too. It helped her relax after a long day at the morgue with the dead. She didn't have much friends as everybody knew and she accepted that fact a long time ago.
She put Ted—the stuffed bear, into the closet and renewed the sheets. She also put a second pillow on the bed, which was Sherlock's favourite because it was soft just like he enjoyed. The bed was a two-sized one even though she lived alone so both of them could sleep comfortably. Well, at least as comfortable as it could be when sleeping in the same bed with Sherlock Holmes—her crush.
"I see Ted is back in the closet." A voice spoke from behind her and she jumped slightly. She could never get used to Sherlock sneaking up on her like that.
"Yes, because of you Mr. Holmes." She joked and turned around to face him. She didn't notice how close he stood in front of her before. His closeness was still surprising even after all this time.
He smiled and leaned in closer. Their lips brushed and she let out a small sigh against his lips, already feeling familiar to his touch.
Okay, yes, again, contrary to popular belief, they wouldn't just go to bed and sleep as far as they can be from each other. Instead, Sherlock would put an arm around her waist and pull her closer. And everytime he did that, Molly would turn around to look at his face, seeing his beautiful blue eyes shining even when it's too dark to see. Then he would lean in and close the small gap between them, pulling her into a smooth kiss. They would kiss with their tongues, both fighting for dominance. Yes, that sounds weird when we're talking about Molly but in bed, she was something different.
"You're not high, are you?" she would ask, every single time.
This answer always changed depending on the occasion. "I've smoked two cigarettes, does that count?"
"No."
"Good." Then he would bite her lower lip, earning a moan from her. His favourite part was when he was kissing her neck, nibbling on her earlobe. He always loved to play with the most sensitive parts on her skin. Especially, her jawline. He would suck her neck, leaving purple marks on her skin on purpose.
"Sherlock" she would whisper, surrendering against him. His kisses were like magic. They would make her brain go on a vacation and fire up all her body like dynamite. God, how good it felt. She always dreamt of it and it became true. What could she want more from life?
And today was no different. Only they were not in the bed. He started off early this time. His patience was gone and he didn't want to wait more. They started walking towards the bed while kissing each other with such enthusiasm just like always. It felt familiar, it felt good, it felt satisfying… It was all they needed. Each other.
At first, she didn't give much thought to it but when she noticed she only had her bra and underpants on, she felt scared. Sherlock only had his boxers on and Molly could swear she had no idea how they ended up like that. It was like she was in a trance just a few minutes ago and she just woke up from it.
"Sherlock, wait…" was all she could say after mustering some courage.
Sherlock stopped when he was kissing the area just a little below her belly button. "What?" He didn't mean to be rude or he didn't want to sound irritated but he was irritated. He was hard, his hardness was throbing so bad and he needed her right away.
Molly bit her lip nervously. What was she going to say? That she didn't want to do it? She had to believe it herself before saying it out loud anyway. She's wanted him. For a long time. And when it was finally happening, why was her logic telling her this was so wrong?
"I… I don't think we should be doing this." She said and sat up, pulling her legs to herself. She wrapped her arms around her legs protectively.
Sherlock arched a brow and caressed her left arm slowly. This made her relax a bit more. Then he took her hand in his. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, sitting in front of her.
Molly's eyes opened wide and she opened her arms to protest. "No, you—" Before she could say anything further, Sherlock took advantage of her opened arms and wrapped his arms around her waist, turning them into a position where Molly sat right on his lap.
Molly's heart started beating crazy and she found it hard to breathe while looking at the beautiful body of the man lying underneath her. He was smirking and she bit her lip, her face as red as a tomato.
"That wasn't fair." She murmured under her breath, realising he asked her if he did something wrong on purpose. He knew she would open her arms instinctively to protest. It was a reflex she had. She hated his intelligence sometimes.
Sherlock put his hands on her hips, holding them there still. "You stopped me. That wasn't fair." He murmured and pulled her down a little bit. He knew her heart was beating crazy and he liked it. He was teasing her, enjoying it too. "Are you uncomfortable? You look like you're not happy sitting on me." he asked, knew it would anger her.
Molly slapped his arm lightly, pouting. "Shut up."
Sherlock's smirk widened as he pulled her down more and was inches away from her lips now. "As you wish." He said before pulling her to another hot kiss. Their lips crashed and there were no thoughts, no doubts anymore. Molly let him suck all her energy out of her. His kisses were hot on her neck, lips, breasts, thighs… She didn't know when she was underneath him again but she didn't need to know. All she could see was him and how beautiful he was while thrusting in and out of her. She never believed he was a virgin like the others. The devilish look in his eyes when someone uttered the word "sex" always gave away the fact that he knew so much about it. And she was almost certain that he had done it with The Woman. Not that she cared, not anymore but it still annoyed her.
"Have you had sex with The Dominatrix?" she suddenly blurted out, making Sherlock stop all so sudden.
He narrowed his eyes. "Seriously, Molly? Is that what you are asking me right now, while I'm doing you?"
Molly bit her trembling lip nervously. "I… It just popped up in my mind and—"
"Oh so you think about who I have had sex with before you." he said, completely annoyed.
"N—no I… What I was trying to say… I—"
"Stop stammering Molly, for God's sake!"
"Don't shout at me!"
Both of them were irritated and the lust was slowly fading away, leaving itself to anger. They were having a good time, so why did she have to ruin it?
Suddenly Sherlock locked his eyes to her lips, which she had been biting for almost five minutes now. It annoyed him more.
"And stop biting your damn lip." He demanded as he leaned in and took her bitten lip to his mouth, tasting the little amount of blood she caused because she bit so hard. Then he bit her lip too. She moaned into his mouth. If she could bite her lip, so could he, right?
He let go of her lip, licking his own lips. "I'm still inside you Molly, do you really want me to answer your question honestly?"
Molly swallowed hard and nodded. Did she really want to know the truth? Maybe it was wrong of her to have asked such a personal question…
Sherlock sighed. "She wanted to have sex with me. A several times. And I rejected her every single time."
Molly was surprised to hear this answer. "Really? Why?"
"Because she repelled me, Molly."
"And I don't?"
"Don't ask stupid questions, you're annoying me." he said as she giggled. Of course she knew she didn't repell him. If she did, he wouldn't be in this bed with her.
When she woke up in the middle of the night, she found Sherlock wearing his trousers silently. She knew she wouldn't find him in the bed when she woke up in the morning but she still hoped.
With a tear falling down from her cheek, she turned her back to him and pretended to be still asleep.
"I know you're awake, Molly." He said as he climbed back to the bed.
Molly didn't move, still pretending for no reason. Sherlock rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist, forcing her to turn around to face him.
She was sad but angry at the same time. She looked at him, her lips a thin line.
"Lestrade texted me about a case. He needs my help. I'm going there." He knew he owed her an explanation. John always said that leaving a woman alone in the bed after a good sex was never a good thing. That it was disrespectful and rude to the woman.
Molly's eyes softened. "Okay." She whispered, feeling better now. He told her where he was going and it was a good excuse.
Sherlock smiled and pressed a small peck to her forehead before getting up from bed. He wore his jacket and Molly watched him do so.
Then he turned around one last time before going out of the bedroom door. Molly wasn't going to get out of the bed because she was naked and it would make her feel embarrased even if he saw her naked just a few hours ago.
"I'll see you at Bart's, then." He said and she nodded, watching him leave. It was then she started crying, after being sure he actually left.
It was two days after she heard from him again.
Come if convenient. SH
Molly hesitated before answering him. Any particular reason? xM
I solved the case. SH
And I missed you. SH
Meaning you're bored. xM
Yes, but that has nothing to do with me missing you. SH
Yeah right… xM
Molly… SH
She smiled at the phone, knowing exactly how he emphasized the "o" and extended her name while speaking at his baritone voice. It was as if she could hear his voice through a text message.
She sighed and gave up fighting him. She wanted to see him too anyway. I'll be there in twenty. xM
Don't take too long. SH
I really missed you. SH
If you don't believe me, I can show you how much I missed you when you come over. SH
Molly laughed at the text and pulled the cover over the corpse's head. That wasn't appropriate. xM
I know it wasn't. SH
I am waiting. SH
With that, she felt goosebumps all over her body. She quickly finished the files and gathered her things. She almost forgot to lock the morgue. Damn this man, she thought as she called a taxi and made her way to Baker Street.
So, hi again! I know I've been writing so many Sherlolly fanfics but… I just cannot get over them. :( LOL
Well, I am not sure whether I should keep writing this or not so I am leaving the decision to you guys. What do you think? Should this be a one-shot or should I continue? Please leave a review. They make my day! (:
xoxo Louvreangel