Dear diary,

It happened again last night, every night this week. The same dream. I don't understand, I was sure i'd moved on, I mean I have Tom now, but it can't be a coincidence. Engaged women don't dream about other men in that way, especially self proclaimed sociopaths that are incapable of handling normal human emotions. After two years without him I was sure he was gone forever so I allowed myself to forget the way I felt, at least I thought I had. I was perfectly happy and everything was going well with Tom until last week...

Molly's day had started like any other. Cereal for breakfast, a kiss goodbye from Tom, and then a five minute walk to 's for a day of inspecting cadavers.A morbid job, but she had always found it interesting. She had completed her third post mortem of the day and was on her way back from the canteen with a mediocre cup of coffee when she saw him. Standing there, in her lab, same black curls, same coat, same plumb shirt (her favourite, that shirt did things to her). It was impossible. Before she knew it she was wearing the scolding coffee, but barely noticed the burning sensation as she stared ahead in disbelief. Words failed her as all of the colour drained from her already pale face. It felt like hours passed before either of them said anything, though it couldn't have been more that a couple of minutes.

"you really ought to change that lab coat Molly"

All of a sudden she snapped back to reality, finally acknowledging the state in which she was standing, but disregarding it as insignificant. He was here. Standing in front of her. Alive and half way healthy (he never was good at looking after himself). Eventually she regained control of her voice, well, as much control as she ever had around him,

"Sh-Sherlock?"

It came out as a whispered question, as though she needed confirmation that what she was seeing was real. She hadn't stuttered in two years but he just brought it out in her. Why did he make her so nervous? Obviously it used to be because she was completely and overwhelmingly in love with him but she wasn't anymore, was she? Her head was spinning with questions that she couldn't answer. Questions with answers that unsettled her.

"Wh-What are y-you doing here?"

She was practically having heart palpitations in anticipation of his answer.

"Mycroft's got a case that was too interesting to ignore."

Molly's heart sank a little despite herself. Of course he hadn't come back to see her, but why did it bother her?

"But what a-about-"

"Don't panic Molly, it's all been sorted. Everyone else is aware of my return. It's perfectly safe."

So she was the last to know.

"R-Right."

Molly turned away and busied herself with some paperwork. Once she'd managed to slow her pulse and stop the stinging in her eyes from the tears that threatened to spring, she faced him again.

"What do you need?"

The familiar words echoed through the room. The same words that got her into this mess two years ago. The same words that resulted in a answer that she could have only dreamed of. But now they hung in the air, awaiting a different answer this time she was sure, despite the suppressed hope within her.

"Oh-um i'm going to need a fresh cadaver and my riding crop."

...It was strange,i'd never seen him stumble over his words. It was like he was nervous or something. Actually, come to think of it, he's been doing it all week. Odd things that I haven't seen him do before, he even got me a coffee yesterday when he came to the lab. Anyway, back to the dream. I'm not sure what to do, it can't be a good sign. I know people get cold feet but this, this has to be something more.

There I am outside the church in a gorgeous white dress with pale yellow embellishments and a lace veil covering my face. Greg takes my arm as the wooden doors glide open ad the wedding march sounds. One step at a time I get closer to my soon to be husband at the end of the isle. I see Mrs Hudson, tissues at the ready, front and centre, and John and Mary making doe eyes at each other next to her. I reach the end of the isle and turn towards my groom. Slowly, he lifts my veil and as I look up into his eyes I see Sherlock.

How can he still do this to me? How can he still make me feel like this after all this time? Butterflies in my stomach, racing pulse, and i'm pretty sure my pupils dilate every time i see him. I love Tom but I worry about what these dreams mean. I need to talk to someone to clear my head so i'm having lunch with Mary tomorrow. The only problem is that she didn't know me when Sherlock was around, she doesn't know what he's like or the effect he has on me. Hopefully she will talk some sense into me. I can't go back to the old me. I can't put myself through it again. The hurtful comments, being constantly ignored. But what if he's changed? He did tell me that he needed me and that I matter to him. Tom is safe and reliable and he actually wants to marry me. Sherlock has't ever shown any interest other than to use me. Although since he's been back there's something different about him, he's less...Sherlock-like. There have been less mean deductions, less invasion of privacy when he's around me, but why?

Stop deluding yourself. Sherlock will never love you the way that you have always wanted him to. Deal with it. Please.