It had been three months since Sherlock had solved "The re-appearance of Jim Moriarty" case. It took Sherlock less than two hours to work out the Jim Moriarty was definitely dead, "No-one, not even Moriarty, could fake shooting themselves in the head and still be alive, John. Someone in Moriarty's network was controlling all the screens in the United Kingdom" Sherlock had told John after escaping his exile for killing Magnussen. Sherlock knew deep in his mind that he had missed part of Moriarty's network and this just proved it. One man, Sebastian Moran, He was Moriarty's lover. Researching further Sherlock found that Moran was more emotional connected to Moriarty than he was to Moran. Sebastian was looking for revenge and he was trying to lure Sherlock to his demise and this time it would not be fake if Sebastian could help it in anyway. Two weeks after uncovering this information Moran contacted Sherlock. This time Sherlock knew he could not go without the help of his government brother Mycroft. Mycroft ordered government protection to be at the scene when Sherlock met Moran. Let's just say, Sebastian Moran was no more.

Sherlock walked into the lab where Molly was working. "Ah, Molly. How's the…" He suddenly noticed that she was not wearing her engagement ring, this was the second time however it seemed more permanent judging by the way the skin was darkening where the ring had been. "Case?" He finished before she became suspicious. "Erm…Well he died off n-natural causes" She spoke softly and stuttered slightly. "You've been crying." she said nothing and just stared. " Mascara stains underneath your lower eyelashes, the mascara is also smudge onto your lab coat by your wrists suggesting you wiped your eyes using the coat, swollen eyes, tense shoulders and your cheeks are slightly tear stained" She continued to stare at him. Molly really wasn't sure what to make of his deduction at all apart from it being slightly insensitive but that's Sherlock, She gave him that look"Sorry, I'll say no more." He stared at her. "N-n-no, its okay Sherlock." He looked at the woman in front of him, she'd never been more vulnerable in his eyes. The light shined through the labs windows and shimmered off her hair, he couldn't believe what he was thinking, 'She's beautiful'. Molly gave a little cough, "Sherlock?". He didn't know what had overcame him but he suddenly stretched his arms out towards her and pulled her close. He squished her in an awkward hug and then let go. She stared at him, "Won't be trying that again" He half-smiled at her. She placed her hands on his face and moved her face closer to his. Her lips touched his briefly and then she pulled away, "Sherlock, I'm-I'm so sorry! I don't know what-what came over me!" He didn't say anything he just pulled her closer to him, their lips meeting again. He didn't know how to explain how he felt, he tried to consider it an experiment but he liked it…a lot. They pulled away from each other and smiled, "Baker Street, now" Was all he said before he left Barts.

Where they really going to do this? Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper sharing a bed together, having an intimate relationship, the possibility of living together, of them having a relationship, seemed so perplexing. 'I don't think I can do this' Sherlock thought to himself. He was a virgin after all and Molly has had so many intimate relationships beforehand, still she felt the same way, 'Can me and Sherlock Holmes really do this? Oh, what am I thinking… I should call it all of before I get hurt by him!' Molly wanted to decline his offer so badly but she continued the journey in the taxi to Baker street. The journey usually took 15 minutes in traffic but it seemed to drag slower and slower, Molly's nerves creeping up on her. As the Taxi pulled up outside Baker Street she saw the curtains of Sherlock's living room move. Perhaps he was nervous about this as well? She stepped out of the Taxi and opened the door to 221B Baker Street. Molly took her time on the stairs, collecting her thoughts. She opened the door to Sherlock's flat and there he was sitting in his chair. As soon as he saw her, he rose and crossed the room. He took her face in his hand and studied it a moment, his face looming closer and closer to hers. Their lips met again and they kissed, continuing this way down the small corridor and tumbling through the bedroom door. Sherlock pushed molly gently down onto the bed and continued to kiss her everywhere. She had never expected Sherlock Holmes, the great consulting detective, to behaviour this way. The purple shirt, Molly's favourite shirt, he was wearing it right now and his chiselled muscles where visible underneath. His cheekbones where so perfect, giving her the impression that he hadn't eaten in days, yet he still had a perfect body. A body she craved. He began to undress her, examining her body, her measurements where perfect to him. Molly stared up at him, disbelief filling her mind, was this really happening or would she wake up in two minutes, alone in her own flat?