Molly Hooper walked into 221b baker street, at 3 in the morning, along with Sherlock Holmes, and John Watson.
"You were not smart tonight."
A pang of guilt.
"I know." She said.
"You could've been hurt."
"I know." She said… again.
"What did you intend on doing with that man anyhow?" Asked Sherlock.
"Sherlock." John scoffed.
"What?" He snapped, scrunching his nose at John in disgust. He obviously knew what Molly's intentions were, and wanted to put her to shame for it.
"Let her be hmm?" Asked John, rather ordered than asked. His soldier was showing.
"Fine but I would just like to say, Molly Hooper,-" She felt like a child. "-You ought be ashamed."
"And you should know! What with that Janine girl, don't think I didn't hear about that." She'd lost it, Sherlock Holmes was being a complete hypocrite, and why did he care so much what her intentions were.
"Yes I'm not proud of that, but Johns life depended on it."
Molly waved her hand at him dismissively.
"I knew Janine besides. You had to call me up in the middle of the night to get you away from a man who was NOT who had said he was, a man whom you had intended spending the night with!"
"He was handsome." When she said it aloud it sounded even worse.
"And that justifies it does it."
He walked away into his bedroom and slammed the door.
An hour later, Molly was still awake, and quite upset. John, being a doctor, could tell something was bothering her and had intended on staying up with her until she told him.
"Out with it then already."
"Fine."
"Really?"
"Yes I'll tell you."
He cleared his throught.
"Why is he so angry."
"Got me there." He said.
She sighed and looked at the cup of tea John had made her, it had long since gone cold because she had no appetite, what with the oncoming hangover.
What bothered her the most was that she didn't know why she was acting this way, she never partied, or went to night clubs, Molly Hooper was NOT a partier, she'd discovered that tonight. Why had she done it? She knew it was wrong, and admittedly she was happy Sherlock came to rescue her; but that was just it wasn't it? It was Sherlock, she'd done it to get closer to him, somehow.
"John?"
His head snapped up, he apparently was dosing off.
"Hmm? Yea?"
"How long had it taken you to get a date with Mary?"
"I don't know, it wasn't in one night, like you tried tonight I'll give you that."
"No its not about- oh gosh, I don't even know his name."
John gave her a questioning look.
"Never mind." He may have dropped it, but she had the sneaking suspicion he knew what this was about.
Two hours after they'd got home, John decided enough was enough and he was going to bed.
Finally, as Molly had hoped (Though she didn't know she did) Sherlock came out of his room.
"I'm… I'm sorry."
He said, and it almost looked like the words pained him as they came out.
Molly nodded. "I deserved it."
"Yes you did."
He stood there silent, as she sat there, her stomach churning.
"Why do you- why do you care so much what I do?"
He gave her that well-isn't-it-obvious look.
"Its not like…" She paused. "Its not like you have feelings for me." She said very matter-of-factly.
He sat down in his chair.
"I don't think so, no."
Her stomach dropped.
"But then, I've never fancied someone, so I don't know what it feels like."
A sparkle of hope.
"Could you tell me what it feels like? So I know?"
She felt like her stomach at been ripped out, and forced back down her throught, all the while blushing.
"Um… It sort of feels like… Like you cant think straight. And you, you get all flustered when you talk. And um…"
"Yes the usual rubbish."
She looked at him.
"I want to know what it actually feels like, not what it 'feels' like."
"Sorry, what?" She asked.
"I don't know,- no yes I do- I don't want the physical symptoms, I want the thoughts."
"You want to hug them, and kiss them. And you just want to be with them forever. And when you see them you just sort of think, 'I could be with you, forever." She said directly at his face. It was almost as if she was saying all these things she'd thought to him a million times, to him finally for real.
He sighed.
"Right."
"But, you don't want to go too fast. You just want to be with them, hold their hand and when you know them well enough, kiss them." She puffed.
He looked at her.
He got onto the edge of his seat, and reached for her hand.
"I know you well enough now."
And there, in 221b Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes kissed Molly Hooper for the first time.
Nothing else happened, just the lingering hope that someday something might. Molly treasured it.
Just a simple not to be mentioned kiss. Just a kiss.