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Sherlock Holmes and John Watson arrived early that morning but Molly Hooper was nowhere to be seen. Sherlock sighed and shook his head, moving towards his usual bench. Typical…she is probably in the lab running some tests or taking a break. John huffed in frustration; he had been dragged from the flat to 'help' Sherlock with his latest case. John placed the coffees on the bench next to Sherlock and took the stool next to his. Sherlock was peering into the microscope and muttering to himself, swapping slides every now and again. John noticed how Sherlock's eyes swivelled to the door every now and again and he frowned.

"Something wrong, Sherlock?"

Sherlock ignored him, biting into his lip as he stared meaninglessly into the microscope, shaking his head furiously. John folded his arms and watched as his friend desperately searched for something. The morgue doors swung open suddenly and Molly emerged, buried in her lab results. Sherlock smirked to himself and cleared his throat, speaking in an unusually loud voice.

"Just as I thought…two different samples from the same person…this can only mean one thing…the victim received the wounds after death and…"

He paused when Molly didn't look up from her results and scowled impatiently. John raised his eyebrows and leaned against the bench, a look of amusement on his face. Molly looked over the top of her papers and took a deep breath. She approached the bench at the back of the room and placed the results on the bench next to where Sherlock was trying to work. His eyes followed her movements and suddenly she had grabbed his shirt and was kissing him fiercely. After a split second of shock, Sherlock reciprocated, his hands travelling to her hips as Molly's wound in his hair. John stared open-mouthed for a moment until Molly pulled away and picked up the results, moving to her desk. Sherlock turned back to the microscope and began turning the sides before turning to John, speaking calmly yet rather quickly.

"Can you pass me the other slide?"

John reached behind him and handed it over, still blinking in confusion. What the hell just happened?

John expected there to be awkwardness the following day when Sherlock had, once again, insisted on going to Bart's. No, nothing of the kind. Molly had been sitting at her desk and she had barely looked up when Sherlock and John strolled in. Sherlock, naturally, ignored her and settled himself at his usual bench. After a few moments of silent working, Molly stood and tapped towards the doors and swiftly leaving, her every move watched closely by Sherlock. John yawned and stretched, tapping his pockets.

"I need a coffee…you want one?"

Sherlock thought for a moment before standing himself.

"Yes…I'll get them John, it's about time…"

John couldn't have protested if he wanted to; Sherlock had already left the morgue. John sighed and swivelled in his chair. I'll just…wait here then. Sherlock reached the machines and frowned at the buttons, glancing over the options. Ok, how hard can this be…if John can do it, for goodness sake. A laugh pulled him from the infuriating contraption and he immediately frowned. Down the corridor, Molly had emerged from a room and was playing with strands of her hair as she spoke to a male doctor. Sherlock clenched his fists as he watched them; medium height, mid-late 30's, separated with two children. Sherlock's knuckles were turning white as Molly leaned into the man and whispered into his ear. The man started to chuckled and nodded, kissing her hand and walking away with a wink. Sherlock turned back to the machine and shoved his money in, angrily pressing any button he could see.

"Here…"

Sherlock slammed the cup onto the table, causing the liquid to spill over the top. John raised his eyebrows and stared into the cup, a smirk on his face.

"Chocolate milk? Sherlock, are you alright?"

"Fine…"

Molly appeared at that moment and returned to her seat. Sherlock spent a few minutes breathing in and out before spinning around on his chair, speaking through gritted teeth.

"I wouldn't bother…it is obvious he is still in love with his ex-wife…"

Sherlock, of course, knew this was a lie…but he was willing to try anything. Molly looked up and blinked in confusion and John closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly whilst Sherlock silently fumed. After a while, Molly smiled and rolled her eyes.

"He's gay, Sherlock…he left his wife when he realised…I helped him to realise. We are all still friends…he still sees his kids on a regular basis…ok?"

Sherlock shrugged and turned back to his microscope, a satisfied smile creeping onto his face. John was rubbing his head now, totally confused as to what was going on around him. The rest of the day passed without another word being uttered by Sherlock or Molly, leaving John to speak randomly about various goings on in his life, particularly his latest conquest, Mary Morstan. It was late, about 10pm, when Sherlock finally stood up and ruffled his hair. John jerked awake and yawned, pulling himself to his feet and swinging his coat over his shoulders. John moved towards the doors and leaned against the frame, waiting for Sherlock. Molly was standing in front of her desk, shuffling her papers and rolling her shoulders. Sherlock approached the doors and John sighed.

"Ready?"

"Almost…"

Sherlock turned around and took Molly's wrist, spinning her around and crashing his lips against hers, dipping her as he did so. John could only watch as Sherlock 'returned the favour' from the previous evening. He didn't know how long they were there but once Sherlock had released her, they were both breathing heavily with their hair messy and lips swollen. Molly had turned back to her papers and Sherlock was already halfway down the corridor, calling to John.

"So, are you coming or not?"

John had become increasingly uncomfortable over the last couple of days. A few days ago, he had returned from getting his lunch to find Molly wrapped around Sherlock, once more, except their shirts were hanging open this time. The day after that, John watched helplessly as Sherlock hoisted Molly onto his lap and kissed her passionately everywhere he could reach. Even today, he wondered what would be awaiting him when he returned. The heat wave had passed now but it was still warm. He paused as he left Mary's flat. No…not Bart's today…I think I've seen enough to last me a lifetime. He hailed a taxi and soon arrived outside 221B, looking forward to some peace and quiet. He knew as soon as he pushed the door to the flat open, that this wasn't to be an option. He spotted items of clothing thrown around in all directions of the flat; hanging off of furniture, wedged between gaps by the walls and stuck on lamps and lights. John rolled his eyes and heard a deep breathless voice speaking from his bedroom. John sighed. At least they had the decency to keep it in the bedroom. Something was telling John that this wasn't the case but he ignored it and listened to what Sherlock was saying.

"So…I suppose…this means…you are my…girlfriend now…"

The was a small chuckled followed by a happy sigh and John groaned.

"Yeah…I suppose so…do you mind?"

"Not at all…"

John smiled and gently closed the door behind him. I think I'll leave them to it…there are just some things I cannot take.

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