Change just one thing

John and Mary's reception has ended, but Molly cant help but feel the need to go check up on Sherlock, just to make sure he was alright...

"What's the address love?"

"221 Baker street, please." Molly Hooper shivered as she settled into the backseat of the cab as it took off from her flat to the familiar address of her friend: the one and only pain in the ass detective and the official hero of the day, Sherlock Holmes.

Truth be told, she wasn't all too sure why she was headed to his flat. Despite being rather worn out after one hell of a wedding day (seriously even a wedding reception became a murder mystery dinner theater with her lot) still...Molly's mind wouldn't let her rest till she saw that he was alright.

She'd bid Tom goodnight, assuring him that she was headed to bed, with her scheduled to work in the morning, and he went home to tend to the dog. Molly waited till she was sure he'd left before she pulled the fascinator out of her hair, taking down the updo that had slid and fell all day. After a quick brushing it fell into waves. Next, she'd debated changing from the cheery dress to something comfortable, but decided not to only changing her shoes to a pair on slip on runners before setting off.

Sooner than she'd hoped, the cab reached the address and out she came. She used her key to enter the main door and walked up the stairs to his flat. He certainly hadn't asked her to come, but she knew that she was expected there somehow all the same.

"You are too late Molly. Mrs. Hudson has already been up to chew my ear out for leaving early." Sherlock's low bored voice reported from his chair, long legs extended out as he slouched deep into his preferred leather chair. He still wore most his morning suit, however the coat was thrown haphazardly on the floor and Sherlock had his shirt sleeves rolled up, vest half undone and the tie hung loose around his neck. There also set a half empty decanter of an amber liquid on the side table.

Molly walked in and slipped off her coat and sat her bag on the sofa before she strolled over into the kitchen and grabbed a mug ( nicked from speedy's cafe below no doubt ) and returned to the living room. She held it out. "May I?" Sherlock raised a heavy brow but reached to pour anyways. Molly then reached over and dragged a chair from the desk to the empty space between the detectives and the chair that would probably forever be thought of as 'John's' and sat facing the unlit fireplace. She wouldn't have dared to sit there. Not on this night. It was Johns, and needed to stay thus for at least today.

Sherlock eyed her but said nothing as she sat in silence. Molly took a drink an coughed against the burning liquid going down her throat. It may have been a very nice scotch, but Molly still wasn't a fan.

"Johns preference, not mine." Sherlock noted, taking a sip of his own tumbler. He handled it burning its way down his throat without so much as a flinch.

Still Molly sat looking at him, considering whether to say anything or not to him. The question that she'd asked in that long ago day. Are you ok? It might suit, yet she felt that seemed predictable and redundant. Sherlock clearly felt much the same. That's what he was expecting her to come. What he expected her to ask. And clearly they didn't need to fake him being okay tonight.

"Just say whatever you've come to say Molly. Ask me if I'm well or congratulate me on my speech. Just go on with it. As I said Mrs. Hudson took care of the berating earlier so if we could kindly skip replicating that-"

"I never even got to speak to you today." She said softly, meeting his eye. " How are you handling everythig?"

Sherlock rolled her eyes at her. "Splendid Molly! A capital day. Solved three cases, prevented a murder, married off John, and informed he and Mary of their forthcoming child. Banner day all in all."

"A child?! Mary's pregnant?"Molly must have been gaping like a fish, and Sherlock was not amused. Snapping her jaw closed she composed herself a bit before asking,"How did they tell you?!"

"They did not have to tell me. In fact I was the one who told them."

"So she didn't know she was? Not even a suspicion?" Molly sipped from her mug.

Sherlock watched her tentative sip and a ghost of a smile appeared while he went on. "No. Mary was completely ignorant. Had ignored all her obvious symptoms or attributed them to nerves or exhaustion. I don't understand their surprise however. Mary and John both know that antibiotics diminish a birth control pill effects, but they must have chanced it before she was clear after the sinus infection she got last month. A foolish assumption but one that they are growing to be rather happy about."

"Well I'm happy for them." Molly relaxed back. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "What? And you aren't?"

"Another change." He intoned.

"Change is inevitable."

"Not preferable."

"Do you honesty wish things would stay just as they are?" Molly tilted her head and asked.

Sherlock looked fully on her, comfortable and confident with him,

So far removed from the stuttering blushing woman she once was. This gift of a friend who came to be with him despite the lateness of the hour. This beautiful woman who had offered her love so freely and her trust without question. The person who'd held him as the adrenaline of faking his death raged through him. The one whose arms he'd longed to be in during his lonely years away. A woman who planned to marry an idiot that bore a striking resemblance to himself.

"No." It came out for too emphatically yet he didn't bother to deny it. It was the truth after all. Breathing deeply and holding her far too curious and clever gaze he watched Molly formulate the question he dreaded and longed for her to ask.

"What would you change Sherlock?" She nearly whispered.

"I'd have asked you to dance tonight." Innocent enough statement. Far more dangerous in practice however. Sherlock found himself standing and striding over to the iPod that just this morning had played John and Mary's first dance while he'd practiced in the empty flat. Once the sound of him playing filled the air he slowly spin towards his guest, offering her a hand. "Molly, would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me for this dance?"

Wide brown eyes and her mouth in a soft 'O' she stood up and allowed Sherlock to confidently place his right hand on her waist and turned the other hand in his left so he could hold it easier. On the next count he moved his feet. And Molly, hesitantly followed along with him. The pair danced in silence for the entirety of the song. Neither one commenting or resisting as Sherlock drew them closer to one another as they'd spun around the room, lead by Sherlock's superb dancing skills ( of course who would dance like bloody Fred Astaire, Molly thought) till the last note drew to a close the stood still and close to one another. The look in his eyes reminded her of a stairwell on that cold winters day after he'd returned. When he'd said such things to her about mattering the most and she'd spoken of nothing but meeting Tom and how nice Tom was and how she couldn't do this because of Tom.

Just like she shouldn't be there right that moment. Because of Tom.

But Sherlock needed someone... Didn't he? Maybe even her. Just her. Right now. Right here. And she wanted to not think about Tom. Sherlock must has deduced that line of thought because he began to ease back slightly, causing Molly to realize that she was the one holding onto him just as tightly as he'd been clinging to her. Searching her face he relaxed and obliged her request to stay close by sheer will it seemed. She felt him lean down and she crashed her eyes closed as she was so sure his lips where going to land on that spot. The one that felt branded from his two precious, chaste kisses.

It came, just not on her cheek where she expected. Instead her lips took the full weight of his kiss. It was slow, sensuous and tender, and Molly Hooper was helpless against it. Sherlock's hands slid up her arms and waist to hold her head and to comb through her hair, while her own wrapped languidly around his waist. How long it went on for was unsure, and she was almost positive of was that this was Sherlock way to telling her things that he couldn't speak aloud. The things he desperately needed her to understand. That he cared for her more than he could tell her, that he longed to be close to her. Needed to have her there and now.

Or maybe he was just lonely. The thought crashed into her. Unbidden and strong. Maybe he was just willing to do whatever it took to not be alone tonight. That thought was enough to make her freeze. She pulled back, what was she doing? Sherlock's glazed eyes lingered shut, but hers were cleared and wide. This was not right. There was no way this was the right thing to do.

"Sherlock." She said firmly, willing him to tell her she was wrong. He seemed to focus on her face again, but not meeting her eye. Tenderness and rawness and peace glowed and ebbed all over his features, it caused Molly to ache deep in her heart as he raised a hand once more to move a

hair that had crossed her face. So tender. Molly clung closer, placing her forehead on his chest and delighting in the comforting smell of him. Sliding her hands on to the unbelievably firmness beneath his shirt. The Stupid light glinted on her diamond gracing the fourth finger of her left hand. Tom.

"Sherlock..." He was going to ask her I stay. She knew it. Felt it. But she couldn't do that. The kiss... That goddamn kiss was damning enough. She had to leave: immediately. Both dropped their hands and Molly turned and grabbed her bag, running as fast as she could with out so much as another spoken word.

It took several blocks to find a cab, not her safest decision but as soon as she settled in Sherlock's text alert rang out.

Did The cab find you? He's one of my contacts. Joey will get you home safe. -SH

Sure enough the placard read Joseph Miller and she relaxed. Leave it to Sherlock to keep her safe as she was running away from him. The cab dropped her off, refuses payment from her and drove off.

Yes, thank you. - MH. She text, safe and sound in her flat once more. The tone rang out again.

I don't regret what happened tonight Molly. -SH

Molly flopped down onto her overstuffed sofa. "God help me but neither do I." She whispered back in answer.