Something was happening to Sherlock that he himself found difficult to explain.
It started when John and Mary dragged him along to a pub. It was one of those pubs that also had a dance floor. Originally it was supposed to be him, John, Mary, Lestrade, and Molly, but the last had declined because she had planned a hen night for a friend.
"John, I thought you said we were going somewhere nearby."
"Right. Keyword there being 'thought.' You know what they say about those who assume..."
"No." Sherlock looked completely serious.
Upon entering the bar the quartet noticed a group of loud women surrounding a long table at the back.
"Huh. Looks like it might be fun tonight." Said Lestrade.
"Well let's hope you don't end up too drunk and pick the wrong one Geoff."
The group turned to look at the consulting detective and his attempt at a joke. Meanwhile, Sherlock looked away innocently and noticed that his favorite pathologist was among the racous group.
When a particular song came on, the group made screeching noises. He heard one female over the others.
"Molly, let's dance! It's our song!"
The song itself kept mentioning how the they were all about the bass, but that's not what Sherlock was paying attention to. If his brain was a computer (though some could argue he is one), it would currently read "MOLLY HOOPER = ERROR."
He was trying to make room in his Mind Palace for the information he was currently processing. The woman in question was dancing. Not only that, but she was dancing in such a suggestive manner that his sight sensory was in overload.
"Mate." John put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "We learn something new everyday. I've never seen Molly in normal clothes either."
"Yes. Clothes." Was all he responded.
"I don't think that's what he was looking at dear." Mary whispered to her husbands ear.
However, Sherlock was now too busy noticing Molly's clothes. She was wearing a dress that seemed to glued to skin, which only served to emphasize his new favorite thing about Molly Hooper.
The song ended and the two women sat down once more.
"I think I need a drink." Sherlock mumbled.
The quartet was well into their fifth pitcher when the next song she danced to came on. Unlike the last time, the girls had requested the current song and they all headed to the dance floor.
This lead Sherlock to have a small heart attack.
The singer sounded slightly demented, but if it kept the pathologist moving then he would whole heartedly support her career.
"Oh my god!" Exclaimed Mary. "How does she do that? I wish I could do that."
"I wish you coud do that too." John muttered. This earned him a slap on the back of the head. "Ow. Did it have to be so hard?"
Molly Hooper was currently dancing like nobody's business. Nicki Minaj might not be her favorite artist, but the song was homage from a woman to other women about loving their natural gift of a big rear.
Sherlock was having trouble. He knew he had an elevated respiratory pattern and heartbeat, and if he were to check in a mirror, he knew he would see dilated pupils.
Sherlock suddenly got up from his chair. He found a girl from the bridal party. "Have you ever been with a detective inspector?" She nodded her head and was pulled up to Lestrade. "She's the least likely to cause you any problems George. No need for the thanks."
He walked back to the dance floor only this time he stopped in front of Molly.
"Molly Hooper."
She knew that voice anywhere. She made sure to pick this pub for the reason that she wanted to make sure she would avoid seeing any familiar faces. Still not turning around she spoke up. "I don't suppose that John is here with you?"
"Yes. We're all here." At this she turned around and looked over to where he was pointing. John and Mary waved hello and she saw Greg chatting up Meena's sister.
"Oh god." She covered her face with her hands. "And you saw that?" She pointed to where she had been dancing.
"Mary is quite jealous, John hopes she learns to dance like that and I, quite frankly, don't know what's going on with me."
That's when she looked him over. She noticed the dilated pupils, the slightly fast up and down motion of his chest and lastly she took his wrist. As she looked down, she noticed one more thing. If all the signs weren't there, then all she would have to do would be to look at the bulge he had. "Oh." She said.
Sherlock looked down to where she was looking. The last time he ever felt anything like this was when he was a teenager. Except anything he'd done about it, he had done it alone behind closed doors. After that, it was mind over matter.
Nobody had affected him as Molly had affected him tonight. In fact, she had the powers of persuasion. Some really big powers. She has persauded him to change his status as a virgin.
"I've never been to your flat." Sherlock merely observed.
"What?"
"It only seems fair I get an invite. After all, you've been to mine three times."
"Ok?" She was severely confused.
"Wonderful." He clapped his hands together. "I'll grab your things and we'll go."
She turned around and watched him walk to her table. She still had no idea what was going on.
Upon returning, they both walked past John and Mary. "I'm leaving with Molly." He announced.
"Good luck you two." Mary gave her thumbs up.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." John shouted.
"Touche." Sherlock yells back.
He smirked. "Indeed. The activities are limitless..." He thought.