"So, bad day was it?" Sherlock laughed nervously, tugging at his coat. It was two in the morning, and by the look of her face, the petite woman standing in the doorway was not amused.
"Possibly the worst day of my life; what do you think?" Molly huffed. After Mycroft's hurried phone call about how none of the earlier events were any fault of Sherlock's, she had told herself she'd be cordial, but for some reason, the sight of him made her defensive.
"It wasn't a picnic for me either," he muttered, running a hand through his matted curls. "I very well could've watched you die tonight."
"So, you came here to say you had a worse time of it?" she fired back. "I'm the one who could've died."
"God, Molly, no," he replied in a panic. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. It's just—how do I explain this? It shouldn't be this hard. Molly, yes, you're the one who could've died, but had I watched it happen, completely helpless to save you…it would have killed me."
"You really care about me that much?" her voice was softer now, as was her face.
"Heart strings can snap when faced with deep emotional trauma; I'm surprised I'm still alive, all things considered. But your death—the life being taken from the woman I—"
"The woman you what, Sherlock?" Molly moved closer to him, the light rain now hitting her as well. "Tell me."
"The woman I am deeply in love with. Molly, I—mmph!" She was snogging him. Her lips on his felt quite remarkable, as if his heart was being awakened; brought back to life just from her love. It was simultaneously soft and firm—a contradiction that shouldn't exist, but is being proven in this very moment. He held her close, never wanting to let go, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, and oh God, it was the most exhilarating feeling.
"Sherlock," she half-whispered as he pressed kisses from her jaw to her neck. "Darling, as much as I"—she struggled to keep her breathing steady—"enjoy this, we should finish this inside."
"Finish?" he asked, that wonderfully crooked smile shone brightly in the dark. "Molly Hooper, I'm just getting started." He lifted her up in his arms, carrying her over the threshold, and kicked the door shut behind him. It was already past two in the morning; there was no chance of sleep tonight.