The end of all things – Melody holmes I don't own anything purely for fun. Please r&r.

Molly had always suspected that there was passion behind his ice cool exterior but never anything like this.

Chapter 1

The beginning.

Everything was back to normal, too much so. The lab its bright white walls shining under the heavy florescent lights. All her instruments lay out in front of her. A job on hand as she glanced at the corpse of Harry Wainwright but her mind was racing. Why had he not come to see her, he was back the whole world knew. She remembered the headline in the times. Bofin Sherlock holmes has risen a hero from the dead. It had taken him a year to find all the men in Moriarty's crime syndicate now most rotting in jail or a few in the ground. The last had been Moran a cruel calculating man who had been sent to kill john.

She remembered the first phone call from John at the news of Sherlock's return.

"You kept this from me all this time." The accusation clear. She heard it in his voice. John had always been polite and kind to her and this tone hurt. She liked john and could not bear him being disappointed in her.

"Jo. John, I couldn't t. tell you. I re. Really wanted to" stuttering her apologies, didn't give him chance to continue babbling on about how she knew he could be in danger and hadn't wanted anything to happen to him. She was crying now.

"Molly, Molly please, don't cry. O.k. I'm sorry that was harsh. I'm just reeling that's all." Always the gentleman he never wanted to make a lady cry. She sniffed trying to regain control of herself. After a short chat they hung up. That was three months ago and she hadn't seen either of them since.

Staring at her hands she sighed was she ever going to get over him. She just couldn't seem to get her head round him. Making her small hands into fist she beat them down on the surface of her workspace. Spreading her fingers on the cool surface she struggled with her feeling, she did not notice the doors open.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. Standing around like an idiot. You have work to do Molly Hooper." She ground through her teeth. Raising her eyes to look at the image of herself reflecting back from the storage door.

She looked tired worn to the bone. Eyes circled with dark flesh. How long had she been working. Looking at her small watch, fourteen hours.

"Right, there's only one thing for it, music!" reaching over she turned on her C.d when a man loves a woman. Arrrrrrgh she screamed in her head if only. Turning back to the man on her slab she chose her favorite scalpel.

Singing lightly

"When a man loves a woman. He can't keep his mind on nothing else. He'd trade the world for the good thing he's found." That made her smile.

Behind her Sherlock holmes stood aghast at the singing pathologist. After her small outburst where she declared herself stupid. He had decided to wait for her to calm but now as she sang and swayed to the music and he was unsure of his approach. The music changed to Kiss by Tom Jones and the dancing started Molly Hooper could dance, even more she could grind. With every passing moment the good Doctor became more abandoned. Hips and knees swishing and sliding in perfect rhythm. Even when they had briefly shared her room she had just flitted around him like an annoying butterfly. Never had he seen her so free. He noted almost at once, circles under her eyes working for 14 hours' smudge of concealer where she had tried to cover the dark rings only to rub it off after her third autopsy. Coffee stain on the cuff of her lab coat three cups. Dressed in a pale grey pair of trousers and a light blue top ballet pumps in the same colour, heavily worn. Hair washed this morning with coconut shampoo he noted as the scent floated over to him when she swished her long hair around her. He liked that smell it was his favorite on her, what! where had that come from.

He coughed lightly and she stiffened so straight as if called to attention. She turned the music off with a quick flick.

"Ho. How long have you been here?" she stuttered. She knew that sound, would know it even in a million years his low baritone cough when he demanded attention. Blushing furiously to the roots of her hair remaining resolutely facing away from him. Her heartbeat tripled sweat beaded on her head and all thought went straight out of the window. How could one man have this effect on her? She shook her head trying to make one wandering thought stay in her head. Her hands shook.

"Long enough" indifference coated every word. "You dance well." He added a quick compliment at the end.

"Right, what do you need Sherlock" oh no that sounded so much like the last time de ja vu all over again.

The last words had not gone unnoticed by him, as always looking out for his needs. He was unsure why this felt comforting to know that she would always be there to help. Sentiment, clouded judgment and thought and he had no use for it. Shaking of the feelings she still hadn't faced him and he wondered why so he asked.

"I have been in the room twelve minutes and twenty second, having made my presence known you still have not turned to face me, why?"

Oh there are a few reasons she thought to herself, one as soon as I turn I will blush at the mere sight of you, two I will have to look you in the eyes an see once again that I don't count, now I've helped you and lastly I will get lost in the plains of your face and the ice blue of your eyes. She didn't know which was worse.

"I I just have to concentrate on this case." She said lowering her head hoping he believed the outright lie. She recovered the body knowing what was to come, his cold eyes deducing every action.

Head down, shoulders slumped obviously a lie, that's new Molly never lied. Especially to him she must know he would see through it. He could see her start to fidget. Uncomfortable, well that's nothing new he seemed to have that effect on her oh yes he knew she liked him more than like in fact. "Molly why are you lying?" his voice stern and demanding. He stood straight waiting for a reply. She continued to stare holes into the floor before straightening her back still to him.

"GO!" she all but screamed. She just wanted him to leave. Leave her alone in her morgue, with her dead. Clutching her hands on the gurney in front of her she screwed her eyes together willing the tears away, she just couldn't take anymore. The false charm the kind words just so she would bend to his will she couldn't do it anymore. She was broken. She didn't hear him move at all.

"Fine I'll go." So she gathered herself together. Stood straight and left. As soon as the door to the morgue shut the tears started free falling. So much pain caused by him so much anguish. She knew now she would never be anything to him apart from a tool to be used at his whim. She forced her headphones brutally into her ears and turned on her music her heart fell Sara Bareilles – gravity. Ripping them back out she ran as fast as she could to get away. It was awful she had waited for him to turn up and now that he had she didn't want to see him.

Sherlock had no idea what had just happened. He tried to process the information but came up with too many blanks to form a conclusion. Just as he was about to follow her John walked in carrying three coffees. "What the hell did you say to her this time?" he asked voice exasperated. For once he had no answer. He explained all that had transpired to John hoping that he may have a better answer than the one he was forming in his own mind.

"Sherlock when did you last speak to her?" John asked his tone was worried and his eyes wide. "Why does that matter?" he stated dumbfounded. "Sherlock she helped you fake your death. Probably illegally, she could have lost her job and you're telling me that since your return you haven't contacted her once not even a text. I'm surprised she just ran out I'd have thrown the scalpels at you." John glared at his friends insensitivity. He watched as the light went on behind his friends eyes

"MOLLY!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. His coat disappearing around the door. John rushing behind in his wake.

Chapter 2

She had run so hard her sides where splitting. Clutching her arms around herself she continued to walk passing people who didn't even notice a woman crying. She found herself in Hyde Park and she breathed easy in the knowledge that he'd never find her here. Sitting on an old worn bench she wept bitter tears into her hands. It started to rain but she didn't care soaking her down to the skin. The torrential down pour flattened her loose hair; turning her face to the sky she allowed the rain to wash her stinging face. Gasping she lay on the bench curling into herself. Viewing the park in front of her happy couples walking hand in hand in the rain, workers rushing to and from trying to stay as dry as possible, a group of idiotic girls giggling while they looked at her she had no emotions left to feel abashed.

She didn't know how long she lay there as the rain poured. She closed her eyes against the rivers running down her face. She didn't rest just lay there, no thoughts nothing crossed her mind just a deep well of sadness. Even then his face floated behind her eyes and she could no longer bear her love for him and she did love him now more than ever. She opened her sore eyes to be confronted with a grey frock coat, a blue scarf and blue piercing eyes. She couldn't even move he was speaking but she couldn't hear him. Staring blankly at him just taking all she could in. He lifted her into his arms, she was shivering when had that started she couldn't recall the cold. She saw the concerned look on Johns face but she was gone there was nothing left inside her to feel.

"Molly!" he yelled across the park. It had taken him an abnormally long time to figure out where she had gone to. They had checked her apartment, the pub at the corner of her street. Where could she have gone, heading back to St Bart's he started fresh when he heard a group of giggling girls laughing about the lady lying on a bench crying in Hyde Park. He was off running again. Then there she was a fragile figure curled up. His stomach flipped he'd never seen anything so helpless. Guilt he knew that feeling he'd experienced it before where Molly was concerned, that Christmas was burned into his memory. It had its own room in his palace. Striding over to her she opened her eyes to look up at him. Her eyes were blank.

"Molly I'm sorry" he said in a clear voice and to his surprise just like Christmas he meant it. She didn't respond just kept looking at him. Sighing he lifted her small form into his arms. She was shaking violent tremors wracked her body she was freezing. unconsiously she clung to him.

He could see now the blue tint to her small lips the ashen color to her usually rosy cheeks. Her eyes glassy as tears continued to fall. He couldn't see any of her bubble personality behind them just hurt. He had not realized that he could cause someone this amount of hurt he always seemed to get it wrong when it came to Molly. She screwed her eyes tight shut not wanting him to see. Carrying her to the main street John hailed a cab. He held the door open as his friend sat in the cab with molly still in his arms. Laying back into the seat he cradled her to him, he could feel the water soaking through from her through his coat. The shivering hadn't stop nor had she opened her eyes. She felt tiny in his arms an to his surprised and consternation he found he enjoyed having her pressed to him. That worried him where had these sudden thoughts come from.

"221b Baker Street" he ordered the cabbie.

Chapter3

The ride was short lived. John whipped round to Sherlock's side opening the door as his friend carried Molly into their flat. He raced up the stairs after him he feared that Molly was suffering from slight hypothermia. Her lips were blue and she still hadn't stopped shivering. Her breath came in short gasps. Sherlock lay her gently on their sofa. Sherlock started removing her wet clothes.

"Sherlock, I'll do that" he stated moving his friend away sure that Molly would not want him to be the one to undress her. Sherlock made no comment and left for his room returning seconds later with an armful of clothes and his second best dressing gown.

"Molly, Molly can you hear me." John whispered near her face "Molly I'm going to have to remove your clothes you're soaked through."

Molly's eyes shot open she didn't want to get undressed anywhere near him. "No!" she almost screamed everything coming back to her in one moment. She wrenched herself in to seating position. Her eyes wide, she went to stand, to leave she didn't want to be anywhere where he was. In a moment though he was at her side a warm hand pressing her lightly back into the seat. He kneeled by her, her mouth opened like a goldfish. He never prostrated himself in front of anyone. "Molly, stay. It has been brought to my attention that I have been rather remiss in my treatment of you." he stated. "As it is. I apologize most sincerely."

"John, leave." John huffed, feeling like he was being sent to the naughty corner but he left closing the door silently behind him.

"Molly" his voice sounded soft, warm even. "I have ignored you over the last few weeks I can only apologize; it was not my intent to hurt you feelings. As I have stated before you count. You always will." He grimaced around the word feelings. He hated feelings but was shocked at the power they had over him. When he had seen her laying so feebly on the bench a shocking stab of protectiveness came over him. It hurt him to see her so crushed. Sentiment he almost seethed the word in his mind, he was never one for friends or feelings but they were there all the same. Placing a hand round her face he spoke once more

"I have asked your forgiveness once before and graciously you did. I hope you will again, forgive me."

Damn this man damn him, he had her at "Molly". She couldn't help it hope returned to her. Warmth spread back into her heart, his words placing the shattered pieces back into place. She couldn't deny him anything. Oh god how sentimental she was, she hated it and she wanted to hate him to loathe him but she couldn't it wasn't who she was. She sighed why did he always bring her defenses down. He's Sherlock that's why she thought. His eyes were searching her face, she decided to play a little letting her face fall her mouth turn down, she knew he couldn't read emotions. He bit his lip unsure.

"Molly, please" he pleaded. She couldn't help it she grinned fully. The sparkle returned to her eyes she released a giggle. His eyes hardened to ice, his face fell.

Molly, little Molly Hooper had fooled him it may have only been for a moment but it still irked him. In that moment he had felt his stomach drop to the floor, he was sure he had lost her completely. When her face fell, it did something inside his chest he felt an almost crippling pain at the thought. He rolled his eyes. "Molly, get changed" he ordered sulking closing his eyes only to snap them open again as he heard her resounding laugh. He stood and sauntered off to his room slamming the door behind him.

Left in the living room she regained control of herself. She sat uncomfortable in wet clothes sighing she stood removing her coat and cardigan. She was soaked down to the skin. She grabbed the pile of clothes, as quickly as she could she changed. He had brought her pair of his pajamas, black with silver trim his blue dressing gown now draping over her shoulders. She looked like a kid dressed in her dads clothes. She stood for a minute until finally she kicked her sodden shoes off instantly she felt better. John's head popped back around the door and smiled at her

"Is he done then?" he asked.

"I think he's sulking in his room." She answered her voice shaking a little as the rest of the cold left her. "Nothing unusual there" he grinned back "What did you say to his highness?"

"Nothing I just let him think for a moment that I didn't forgive him but I couldn't hold in a grin." She stated simply.

John laughed. Sherlock hated to be fooled even just for a second. He silently congratulated her by placing a hand on her arm "I'm glad you're better." He stated.

Chapter 4

He lay on his bed his mind racing all this was so new. He tried to focus but to no avail his mind kept slipping back to her, her eyes in those last seconds, they had glowed with mirth and forgiveness. He hadn't left sulking because his pride was injured he had in fact gotten over that almost instantly. It was however the fact that when he had looked into her eyes he had felt at home, home in her eyes. He didn't want to but he couldn't stop that feeling it was like a vine spreading through his mind. He steepled his fingers trying to regain his usual composure. Slipping his eyes closed he was assaulted by her image, every image in the lab that he had ever had of her, her coy glances at him. The pain in her eyes at that Christmas. He tossed, turned even smothered his face in his pillows. Just washed, new conditioner traces of perfume where Mrs. Hudson had rubbed her wrists over it in her efforts at straightening them out. Interesting even with his mind occupied with Molly he was still able to deduce.

There was a quite knock on the door; he ignored it knowing who it was. He heard the sigh outside. The whispered "Do you think he's fallen asleep?" her voice concerned. He heard johns reply, well who couldn't he almost yelled it. "No he's just being an arse!" Molly giggled and he scowled. Silently she opened the door; he refused to look curling up on one side facing his book shelves.

"Yes" he drawled. Rolling his eyes he heard her approach his pajama bottoms dragging along the floor.

He looked so approachable just lying there facing away. She dared a little and approached the side of the bed. His bedroom a lovely green, the bed was huge mahogany. Pushing herself a little further she sat on the corner of his bed. If was comfortable but firm. She noticed him stiffen. This was going to be difficult she could tell.

"Sherlock" she reached over a hand hovering over his shoulder. He didn't move, didn't respond. She got annoyed now, why couldn't he just for one act normal and accept an apology.

"Sherlock" she spoke with more power to her voice. She touched him then, felt his muscle tighten then relax, she pulled him to face her. Surprise registered on his face for just a second obviously he never thought she would be so bold. She blushed how she hated the unconscious reaction.

"Sherlock, will you just for once accept an apology, with good grace." She asked exasperated.

He sat up so fast she jumped back startled. God he could move quickly, viper like she almost didn't register the movement. His eyes were wild she had never seen such a look behind them before, like fire. His pupils dilated fully, she gasped his face was almost savage. She felt like running but she was frozen shocked to the core. Instead she slowly stood.

"Sherlock are you o.k.?" she asked had she really hurt his pride that much he looked furious. His eyes calmed and back in place was his old cold, calculating glare. She could still see it though under the surface the feral gleam hadn't completely left his eyes. It was there in the tilt of his mouth and the lines of his face. "I'm fine Molly." He lied.

"No you're not." She challenged holding herself straighter. She knew him better than that.

He was taken aback, how could she know. He had placed his mask back on when he saw her grow frightened of his outburst.

"Tell me what's wrong?" and there it was again the words from so many months ago, her concern. Why did she care so much he never gave her reason to? Yet there it was the worry in her eyes the almost out stretched fingers. He suddenly wondered what it would be like to have those fingers in his hair. He shook away the thought, appalled with himself. He had never had to struggle with himself before. Always certain of what he wanted and emotions were not part of it. He looked at her not knowing how to reply for the first time ever he was speechless. Then without warning she swept towards him pulling him into her arms laying her head on top of his. "Its o.k." she soothed. Planting a light kiss on his head. He just sat there enveloped arms by his sides and for one moment one unbelievable moment his rushing thoughts stopped nothing not one thought in his head.

Looking up he was lost. Her face tilted down to his, he lifted his hands to her face the wildness creeping backing in as he took her face roughly in his hands an placed his lips on hers. Possessive and hungry he ravished her mouth.

I think this is how it would go, he has a fiery personality. His out bursts are passionate and unguarded. If anything were to happen it would be in one of those moments.