The street was dark and dirty and because it was late at night all of the lowlifes had come out in London. Most of the people had stopped to watch the developing confrontation in front of a warehouse, where Sherlock Holmes had cornered the jewel thief he'd been tracking for two days.
"You'll regret this Holmes!" the cornered man yelled at the tall, distinguished man in his trademark coat. "You wormed your way into my plan and had my team taken by the police! Well, you'll not survive this time!" the man said, his expression turning dangerous. He reached in his coat for the gun he'd been hiding.
Sherlock had no weapon of his own and dived behind the dumpster as the man began to shoot. Suddenly the shooting stopped and he stepped out from his hiding place to find the thief gone. Damn! I should have brought Watson's revolver, now that the thief he'd been paid to apprehend had once again slipped away.
He did however have a good idea of where his jewel thief would show again. In two days there was to be a gala at Somerset House in the Strand where an exhibition of lost Russian jewels would be shown for the first time. He hailed a cab and returned to Baker Street where he threw himself into his Mind Palace.
"Damn!"
The sound shook Sherlock out of his thoughts and he realized he'd said the word himself. He wouldn't be able to go to the gala without going undercover and he'd need a companion to seem less conspicuous. Molly Hooper came immediately to mind as the logical person to accompany him to this event. He'd have Mary talk to her, yes that would work! With his problem solved he lit up one of his "banned" cigarettes.
The night of the gala, Molly wore a diaphanous white silk dress with elegant gold strap heels. She left her hair down, curling at the ends. She looked attractive and the gown fit well in all the right places. She just hoped that the dress Mary had helped her choose fit Sherlock's requirements for this gala. With one more glance in the mirror her doorbell rang and she knew it was Sherlock at the door.
"Hello Sherlock, are you ready to go?" Molly said as he entered into her flat. He was looking as elegant as ever in his tailored suit and his coat.
He had gone silent and was studying her thinking that Mary had done a great job choosing a dress for Molly. Its light color suited Molly and it left a great expanse of her smooth creamy skin exposed which made him want to run his fingers across it to see if it was as smooth as it looked. He tried to not think about putting his hands around her small waist to pull her against him when they danced at this gala. He pushed the thoughts away as he'd kept his attraction to her hidden and that was where it needed to stay.
"Well?" she asked "How do I look? It's a very nice dress and I hope it's elegant enough."
"It's perfect," he answered. "It will suit the gala and it fits very well." Molly blushed at his approval and hoped he wasn't going to make a derogatory comment as his eyes ran over her figure.
"Thank you, Sherlock. Shall we go then?" She asked him and he offered his arm causing her to smile up at him. She immediately took it which he liked as he enjoyed any moment that Molly touched him.
As they made their way down the stairs off 221B Molly really felt like they could be a couple. She sighed as she knew that this was all for a case and whatever feelings she had for Sherlock they were never going to be returned.
They remained silent all the way to the gala where Sherlock gained entrance into the party under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Hooper so they didn't immediately identify him. Molly was entranced by the elegance of the party with its crisp white linen tables, glittering lights and butterfly motif it was a beautiful and dazzling sight.
Sherlock watched her while she surveyed the crowd of people sometimes dressed elegantly while others just looked gaudy. She had a look of wonder on her face which he used to see when she looked at him during one of his deductions. She no longer looked at him like that and he desperately wanted to see it directed at him again.
As she moved further into the room he could see that there was a wide space that had been left for couples to dance and the band was just beginning to get ready to dance. Sherlock knew from John's wedding that Molly loved to dance. He desperately wanted to dance with her but knew he could not. For he knew that if he held her in his arms he wouldn't be willing to let her go and she'd know that he was far more interested in just being her friend. He'd had to be careful before, when she stepped too close to him, his body would get excited just from her clean scent of lemons. If he danced with her he'd be unable to control his body and she would feel his excitement.
She turned her bright chocolate eyes on him and smiled waiting for him to invite her to dance. Instead he steered her off to a wall where he kept his arm around her waist. Her smile faltered and he talked to her about their plan to catch their thief and what she was to do. She was putting up a brave front and following all of his plan but he could tell by the way her eyes kept returning to the couples on the dance floor that what she really wanted to do was dance.
Molly had thought that Sherlock was going to ask her to dance. She'd thought it was, well, certainly not a date, but at a function as big as this they would dance. She knew through John and Mary that Sherlock loved dancing and that he'd relax enough with her to dance. Obviously she'd thought wrong. Sherlock immediately steered her over to the wall and commenced people watching. She was starting to wonder why he'd bother to bring her if all he was going to do was people watch.
He was busy making deductions based on people's appearances which from what she could tell were correct. While she enjoyed listening to his baritone voice and being with him, what she really wanted to do was dance. She decided to gather her courage and ask him.
"Sherlock, if we're to appear as a couple, can we dance?" she asked him. Interrupting him mid deduction of a middle aged politician. She smiled up at him proud of herself for using her courage and she thought he was going to say yes. But then his eyes went cold and he looked at her strangely.
"No, I'm not dancing to this idiotic music."
"What does it look like when a couple in such elegant clothing as us doesn't want to dance? We make ourselves stand out." She tried using his logic of being undercover.
"Molly, we're not here to have fun even though you'd clearly enjoy putting yourself on display, I do not." His tone was harsh and her smile fell. She hated when she always plucked up courage with Sherlock only to always be insulted by him. Why did she always do this to herself?
"Excuse me, I have to use the bathroom." She walked away from him, trying not to let her hurt show. She wasn't sure if he was watching her or if it was her imagination but she thought she felt his eyes follow her. She didn't know if he always meant to insult her to drive her away or if he just didn't realize that his words hurt her. He probably knew what he was saying to her.
Fantastic, thought Sherlock. I've managed to hurt her again. He watched her walk away with jealous eyes as other men turned to look at her beauty. He hated that other men looked at her as if she was just available.
He shook his head and told himself to control his emotions. Molly was not his. She was just a friend who was always there for him. He had no rights to her. He knew that Molly had loved him and that if he encouraged her it would be so easy to be in a relationship with her. She was kind, loving and they shared mutual interests. He didn't know how to approach her about his emotions but he did know he couldn't stand to watch another Tom come into her life.
He watched her return from the bathroom, but instead of coming back to him she went towards the buffet table to pick up some food. He thought about going after her and confessing why he didn't want to dance. He was about to go after her when a raven-haired woman, immaculately dressed, joined him. "Sherlock, why do you push such a delectable creature away?"
"Woman! What are you doing here?" he snapped back knowing that Molly would feel worse if she saw him talking to Irene.
"The usual, I'm here by the request of a client who needs to be punished," she replied smiling at him.
"Really, I thought you were here for the jewels?" he quickly deduced.
"Yes, well I'm getting to those in my own time. But why are you standing here when you clearly want to dance with the gorgeous Molly Hooper?"
"I'm not interested in either Molly or dancing." He claimed coldly.
"Well. I hope that is true as there is clearly another gentleman who is interested in both," she said nodding across the room to DI Lestrade who was crossing the buffet table to where Molly was getting a drink to go with her food. "Ah the silver fox, I've heard him called by several women, I'm sure he'll keep Molly entertained. Have a good evening."
Irene glided away leaving Sherlock with his thoughts. When he looked up Molly was indeed dancing with Greg and looked happy doing it. He thought it wouldn't do any harm for Molly to dance one dance so she could enjoy it. There was no harm for her but it certainly made him miserable watching her in another man's arms. He should have just danced with her himself.
"Hello Molly," said a voice behind Molly which made her jump as she was choosing food from the buffet table. "Sorry didn't mean to make you jump."
"Hi Greg, what are you doing here? Is it to do with the jewels," she asked quietly making sure nobody overheard them.
"Yes, Sherlock asked if I could provide some backup in case the heist occurs tonight," he replied. "What about you Molly? You look very beautiful this evening in your dress."
Molly blushed under his compliment and spoke, "Sherlock needed to bring someone to this gala, however, he didn't really need me as he's decided to stay against the wall and watch everyone." She couldn't help the bite of bitterness in her words.
"That's a shame as you deserve to dance in that dress, what do you say Molly, will you dance with me?" he spoke with puppy dog eyes.
"I say that I'd love to dance with you Greg" Molly replied with a smile. She put her plate down and took the hand that Greg proffered. They moved perfectly together as if they'd always been destined to dance and she smiled up at his handsome face and wondered why she couldn't love a man like Greg instead of loving a moody, arrogant and unsociable git.
As she twirled around the floor she thought she felt Sherlock's eyes on her, but whenever she turned in his direction he was looking a different way. He seemed bored and even lonely stood against the wall. However, she shook her head and smiled again at Greg, if she was going to wear an exquisite dress and shoes to go undercover at least she could enjoy herself even if it wasn't with Sherlock.
As the dancing continued on she could feel Greg's hands slipping down and becoming more familiar with her. She didn't mind though as it was nice to feel wanted for once, even though she knew about Greg's on again, off again ex-wife. With Sherlock, she never knew where she was, sometimes he would completely ignore her for days and then other times he desperately needed her, just as he had done the night before the fall. He was just so confusing and she couldn't figure out what he thought of her.
The music stopped and Molly caught her breath while Greg led her over to the refreshments to get a drink for her. Once the music started again Greg asked, "Should we get back to the dancing?"
Molly looked back at the dance floor longingly but then started to feel bad about how she'd abandoned Sherlock. "I can't," she said regretfully. "I really should be getting back to Sherlock. He probably needs me for something."
"Are you sure?" he asked. "Molly, I've really enjoyed being with you and I'm sure Sherlock wouldn't mind if you danced some more."
"Oh, I'd mind," said Sherlock from behind her with his hand on her upper arm. "It's time to go, Molly."
"Bye Greg," Molly said, while Sherlock glared daggers at him.
Molly was surprised that Sherlock sounded so angry, she'd only been dancing with Greg, while he'd been watching everyone in the room.
"We're going? I thought you'd come here to solve a case." Molly replied.
He pulled her towards him and she shook him off and his hand slipped around her wrist. "Thanks for a lovely dance," Molly said to Greg as Sherlock pulled her along.
Molly found herself being pulled along by a very agitated Sherlock Holmes and she wondered what had gotten him all riled up, maybe frustration at not solving his case. "Well, that was rude," Molly told him as they exited the building and as the cold hit her skin she realized that Sherlock hadn't even stopped to get their coats.
He just ignored her and then called for a cab. Molly decided to not provoke him while he was in one of his moods but she didn't understand why he was so upset. As they got out at 221B Baker Street, Molly was reluctant to go inside but Sherlock made that choice as once again he took her by the hand and led her up the stairs.
When they got inside, she questioned softly, "Sherlock?"
His shoulders bunched with tension and he closed the door which he never did. Then he turned to look at her and she'd never seen such an expression on his face before. She'd seen him happy, excited, sad and angry but this look was darker than anything she'd ever seen and it was directed at her. "Molly" he said in his deep voice which seemed even deeper. She shivered as he pulled her against him.
"What are you doing?" Molly demanded.
"I saw him touching you." His fingers curled around her arms and he pulled her even closer until her breasts pressed against him.
"Who? Greg? He was just dancing with me." She tried to pull back but he was holding on too tight.
"He wanted you! He wanted to fuck you!" He shouted at her.
"He was just dancing with me, Sherlock," she explained to him. She didn't know why she had to defend herself, she'd done nothing wrong. He hadn't wanted to dance with her, so she'd danced with another man. Sherlock was acting jealous, which was a surprise as he'd never even shown any interest in her.
"Well what I was supposed to do, you were just stood there and refusing to dance with me. Besides, it's nice to be wanted."
She could tell it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words had left her mouth. It was as if she'd lit a fire.
"You think I don't want you?" he demanded. "Molly you're mine. You've always been mine since the first time I started working with you. You're my pathologist!"
"Show me," she replied to his tirade. She reached up and put her hand on his cheek and pulled him down for a kiss.
His kiss was hungry and demanding as his tongue ran along the seam of her lips to let him in. She opened her mouth giving him what he wanted. She let a moan out at the pleasure he was causing to run through her body. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach and she felt her knickers becoming wet with her arousal.
Well if she ever thought that he was gay or asexual this was proof that the great Sherlock Holmes was very heterosexual and interested in her of all women. He'd never shown the slightest interest in her and now he was kissing her silly. His hands released their hold on her nape and made their way down her arms until he was caressing the curve of her breasts through her dress. His mouth released hers and he undid the tie that kept her dress up and stepped back to see the dress slide down to her hips. She covered her breasts remembering his harsh words at that Christmas long ago.
"No, Molly, let me look at your gorgeous body. I'm sorry about that comment about your breasts they're perfect.
She uncrossed her arms letting him look at her breasts and the heat in his eyes made her more confident that he was indeed speaking the truth. His eyes were dark with desire, for her, and that he was restraining himself.
She studied him carefully, from the ever changing eyes filled with desire, to the plush cupid bow lips which had taken hers, to the cheekbones that were so sharp they could've cut glass. She let her eyes fall to his lithe and she imagined well-muscled frame. She then made her decision that they were going to do this.
"Sherlock, I never knew you wanted me, if you'd said something, you could've had me a long time ago." Her talking was put to a sudden stop by him claiming her mouth once more. This time she responded with all of her pent-up desire for him. She pulled his shirt out of his pants and roamed her hands over his firm and pale skin. He tore the buttons off and she pushed the offending item away. She closed her eyes at the feeling of her sensitive nipples brushing against his chest.
He pushed her backwards, walking her back to his bedroom, never letting up the pleasure of kissing. Her knees suddenly hit a bed and she fell back. He released her and pulled her dress down quickly and admired the sight of her in sky blue panties and beige stockings held up by lacy garters. Without waiting he pulled down her underwear and rolled the stockings down her slender legs. He then pulled her to the edge of the bed and kissed the inside of both thighs before pressing his lips to her mound and touching his tongue to her clitoris.
Molly's hands came to his hair and she scraped her fingernails against his scalp, causing him to groan which reverberated through her sex as his tongue danced across her. She arched her body against his mouth as she felt her climax climbing. "Sherlock!" she cried out as she came against his mouth.
He rose to his feet and Molly pushed herself up to wrestle at his pants, popping the button open and yanking down the zipper. His erection came free as he wasn't wearing any pants. Molly licked her lips and pulled his narrow hips towards her to take him in her mouth. She licked the head and ran her hands down his length before taking him into her mouth. She sucked hard on him and cupped his balls in her dainty hand.
"Molly," he growled in warning running his hands through her hair and watching her take him. "I'm going to come."
She withdrew him from her mouth and spoke, "come for me, let go." Before taking him back into her warm, wet mouth. He pulled her mouth further onto him and felt his eyes roll back into his head, "Yes, Molly! Oh my God!" he called as pumped his semen into her mouth with her swallowing it all.
"God, Molly, that was amazing!" he commented as he recovered.
"Well, I hope you're not done, as I plan to have you come more for me." Molly smiled at him. He pushed her up the bed and pushed her hands over her head holding her wrists together in one of his hands as he lined his erection up to her very wet entrance. He thrust himself deeply into her until he was fully seated. He stilled waiting for her to get used to his size, his eyes held her and he ducked his head down to kiss her deeply.
When she felt comfortable she arched her hips into his letting him know that she was ready. He began to thrust and let go of her hands, she brought them up and ran them down his arms to his elbows, then down his back to grasp his bum to pull him further into her. This action made him thrust harder and she brought her legs up to change the angle of his thrusts.
He then pulled her legs up to his shoulders and pounded harder into her as she felt the first stirrings of her orgasm. "Come for me, Molly, come on me," he spoke as he felt his own orgasm building. She came screaming out his name so hard that she thought she'd never be able to put herself back again.
"Molly! Fuck, I'm coming, take it, take it all!" yelled Sherlock as he ejaculated, bringing her back to orgasm again. He dropped her legs and collapsed on top of her. She reveled in the fact that she'd brought the great Sherlock Holmes to this stuttering mess. He rolled off of her, withdrawing, and tucked her against him as he kissed her forehead.
"If I'd known this would happen when I danced with Greg, I would have done it years ago!" she said as she stroked her fingers across his muscled chest.
"You are mine, Molly Hooper" he said possessively.
"Yours," she agreed as he rolled her onto her back once more and entered her again in one thrust.
