This ficlet is for sweet-sweet-escape aka MaybeItsJustMyType ^_^

In December on tumblr she had reblogged a pic of Loo Brealey

dressed as Alice for a costume party,

and had placed a plea in her tags for a Sherlolly fic where Molly wears the costume.

Well, I couldn't deny my Sweets this fic, so my brain started whirring. And now it's finally here!

ENJOY!

Down the Rabbit Hole

The party was in full swing when Molly arrived. She hadn't originally intended to show up so late, but due to unforeseen circumstances (i.e. Toby vomiting on the floor in her kitchen thanks to him deciding to swallow a ribbon), she got there feeling rather frazzled. After making a beeline for the drinks table, and now with a glass of red wine in hand, she looked about her in hopes of finding John or Mary. Who she did find rather surprised her.

"Hi Sherlock!"

The white-faced man stared at her in shock, unblinking.

"What? Buffering mode for me? I'm flattered," she said with a giggle. "Didn't think I'd recognize you beneath all that? I always see you."

He rapidly blinked before letting out a grunt.

"And besides, who else would be standing off on their own, glaring at everyone in the room?"

He grunted again, moving his gaze to his nearly empty glass.

"So ... the Joker eh? I didn't think you liked these kinds of parties at Barts, even if this one is for a good cause. Hmmm, let me guess, Mary put you up to this, didn't she?" Molly asked as she lightly touched the arm of his suit jacket. "Made you wear the green wig and everything!"

He sighed, rather dramatically. "Yes she did."

"Did she threaten to shoot you again?"

Sherlock smirked. "No. She threatened to not allow John to come with me on cases for an entire month."

Molly giggled. "Oh my."

He looked her up and down. "You're Alice."

"I am." Molly smoothed her hand down the front of her dress. "I wore this costume when I was in Sixth Form. I'm quite shocked it still fits."

"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

She stared up at him in shock. "You read the book?"

He nodded. "Mummy used to read it to me."

"Hmmm ... I must say though I would have more so expected you to quote, 'People who don't think shouldn't talk.'"

He smiled. When a few moments passed and he was still staring at her, Molly looked away before muttering about wanting to get something to eat. His gaze followed her as she walked away. If he had known he was being so blatantly obvious he would have, possibly, shown a bit more restraint.

An odd sensation suddenly began to flood through his veins. His eyes narrowed and he briefly glanced down at his now-empty glass. Had he drunk more whiskey than he realized? His gaze returned to Molly when he spotted a man dressed in a zombie costume, approach her.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed further, his fist clenching at his side as the pair of them chatted amiably. He deduced straight away that Molly liked him, and that he liked her, but they had as of yet to go on a date. He became more infuriated when he gave the man a once-over and could find nothing detrimental.

"Damn," he muttered beneath his breath.

"Oh surely the wig can't be that uncomfortable!" Mary exclaimed as she came up beside him.

He ignored her, unable to take his eyes off of the talking pair. Mary followed his gaze.

"Oh." She took in a breath. "Sherlock, if you don't do something tonight, you are going to risk losing her forever. Matt is a really nice bloke. He's passed my approval; you won't find anything to bring him down in Molly's eyes. The only argument you can use is that he's not you." Mary stopped for a moment, taking a sip of her drink. When Sherlock didn't say anything, and didn't move, she decided to continue. "Either you tell her you love her, and be with her, or you let her go, let her live the life that you think she deserves. She loves you Sherlock, after all this time she still hasn't give up on you. But she won't wait forever. She's tried, and look at where that's taken her."

Sherlock still didn't speak. Mary rolled her eyes, before giving him a push in the general direction of Molly. She smiled to herself before straightening the ears of her Cat Woman costume, and walked off in search of her husband. Sherlock quickly altered his course, sticking to the outlines of the room, but keeping Molly and her prospective within his direct line of sight.

He read their lips, gaining intel on their conversation. Dull. They were talking about work. He rolled his eyes, wondering how on earth Molly could stand it. But then it hit him. They were talking about work. He was actually interested in what she did; he wasn't showing any signs of disgust. Of course this could be due to the fact that the man was a heart surgeon. Damn, once more.

Sherlock's frown deepened as Matt placed his hand on Molly's arm, before walking away, presumably to search them out some seats. It was now or never.

He followed her as she moved away from the table laden with food and returned to the bar. Sherlock stepped forward just as Molly turned, thus resulting in her bumping into him and spilling the entire contents of her glass of red wine.

"Oh bloody hell! Sherlock! Why were you standing so close to me?" she exclaimed as she put down her now-very-empty glass and assessed the damage; the wine had left a dark red stain down the front of her dress.

He grabbed several napkins from the table and handed them to her. "I'll take you home."

"What?" she asked, taking the napkins and beginning to dab at the mess, her cheeks tinged pink.

"I'll take you home. You're embarrassed," he said to her, placing his hand on her elbow.

She allowed him to guide her from the room to get their coats. Neither one of them speaking as they walked outside and got in to the waiting black car.

"You came with the Watson's, didn't you? How will they get home?" Molly asked.

"I'll send the car back for them."

"And how will you ..." She stopped the sentence, biting down on her bottom lip.

Several beats of silence passed.

"You made me spill my drink on purpose," she stated bitterly.

"And what if I did?"

She looked at him. "Why did you? I was having a perfectly lovely time with Matt. Why did you have to go and ruin it?"

"He's not me."

"That's your excuse?" she spat out.

"It isn't an excuse. It's the truth."

Molly continued to stare at him, wide eyed, beginning to fight back tears. "Why now?"

He swallowed. "I don't want to lose you."

A tear managed to fall, slipping down her cheek. She brushed the traitor away, taking in a shaky breath as she turned to stare out the window.

"You won't lose me Sherlock. Even if I was with someone else, you would never lose me."

He made a noise of disagreement and she spun about to look at him.

"I nearly did with Meat-dagger," he noted.

She stared down at her hands. "That-that was different."

"How? How was that different?"

She let out a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Molly, I could no longer go to your flat whenever I wanted, because he was there."

She frowned, a wrinkle forming between her brows. "So that's it? You don't want me to be with anyone so you can come to my flat at random hours?"

"No! No, that's not what I meant."

She was still frowning. "Sherlock, you're not making any sense."

He moved to rub his hands over his face then remembered the makeup. He dropped his hands back into his lap. "I'm not good at this sort of thing Molly."

"This sort of thing?"

He sighed, leaning his head back. "Sentiment. Feelings. Emotions. Caring. Those."

"Sherlock ... are you...?" Her voice trailed off as she slowly reached her hand out towards him.

He turned his head and looked at her, before grabbing her hand and pulling her closer. "I love you." His eyes widened slightly. "Oh. That was a lot easier to say than I expected."

Molly laughed slightly, her eyes filling with tears once more. "You love me?" Her tone was hinted with that of disbelief.

He nodded, lacing their fingers together. "I do. I know you have no reason to believe me. But I do. I love you. "

She sniffled as he reached up to gently brush way the few tears that had fallen. "I do believe you Sherlock. I always know when you're lying … and you're ... you're not lying now."

He smiled, leaning his head towards her.

"I'm not kissing you until you wash that stuff off," she told him with a cheeky grin.

He pouted, it looking even more ridiculous than usual because of the makeup. She buried her face against his chest, wrapping her arms about his waist.

"I love you too, you know," she murmured.

He slipped his arms around her, laying his cheek upon the top of her head. "I know. I've always known."

They stayed like this, in silence for the duration of the drive, and still did not speak as they entered her building, and began the climb up the three flights of stairs. Upon entering her flat Toby came trotting over to them, purring happily as he rubbed up against both of their legs.

Molly began to undo the buttons on her coat, as Sherlock toed off his shoes and she kicked off her black flats.

"Do you think anyone noticed?" he asked suddenly, shrugging out of his coat.

"Hmmm? Noticed what?" She had taken off her coat and scarf and was hanging it up.

"That I went home with you."

She stared at him for a moment before giving a nonchalant shrug. "And what if they did?"

He blinked. "You don't mind?" He hung up his coat beside hers, unwinding his scarf.

She tilted her head to the side. "Mind what? What they'll think? No. I've decided to stop caring about what other people think. It doesn't matter. Not really. Come on, I'll help you wash off that makeup." She took his hand and led him in the direction of her loo. "Sit or I'll have to stand on a step stool."

He sat on the closed toilet bowl lid, watching her as she moved about the room, gathering up a towel and a bottle of face wash. She ran the towel under the water until it was wet, then rung it out.

"I think its best if I wipe it off, I can see everything better," she said to him.

He nodded and she set to work. Slowly he became revealed to her, returning to the Consulting Detective and no longer being the Joker. The moment she wiped the last bit of makeup away, she dropped the towel into the sink and smiled.

"There you are," she said softly.

Sherlock had waited long enough. He grabbed her about the waist, pulling her to him before crashing his lips against hers. They kissed hungrily, desperately, as if they would both die if they did not get a fill of each other. When they at last parted, they were both gasping for breath.

"Uhm … wow," she breathed out.

He smiled at her, tilting his head forward to press his lips to hers again, this time a bit more tenderly, gently. He felt her hands in his hair, carefully pulling out the bobby pins that were holding the horrible green wig in place. As soon as he felt the cool air hit his scalp, and her fingers running through his curls he couldn't stop himself from groaning into her mouth. He tugged her closer, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly Sherlock stood, pulling Molly up off of her feet. She let out a slight shriek, having been startled by his sudden movement. He smiled, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

"I think it's best if we continue this in your bedroom," he told her.

Her cheeks flushed red, and he couldn't help but be intrigued by the sight of it. He was determined to discover how far her blush traveled down. He settled her on her feet, took her hand and led her to her room.

He removed his suit jacket, tossing it over to a nearby chair where it landed perfectly, of course. Molly took off her wig, and undid her low bun. Sherlock reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp. She let out a soft hum, her eyes falling closed. He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, and she giggled.

"Sorry I ruined your costume."

Her eyes opened and she looked up at him. "No you're not."

"No. I'm not."

She giggled again, standing on tip toe as she slipped her hand around to the back of his head, pulling him down to her so that their lips could meet. Sherlock's hands slipped around to her back, beginning to undo the buttons of her dress. She whimpered into his mouth when he moved his hands over her newly revealed skin, dancing his fingertips across her spinal column. A shiver ran through her body as his hands moved further down, they parted for breath just as he gave the dress a tug and it pooled at her feet. She now stood before him, clad only in her white bra and knickers.

Sherlock drank in the sight of her, pleased to find that her blush traveled from her neck to across her breasts. Her breasts which he needed to see in entirety. He took a step closer to her, slipping one hand around her waist, trailing up her spine and stopping once he reached the strap of her bra. With a quick flick of his fingers, the hooks were undone and her bra joined the dress on the floor.

"Perfect," he murmured, reaching up to cup her breasts in his hands.

Molly whimpered again, her back arching, pressing herself against him. He took her nipples and gently rolled them between his fingertips.

"OH!"

"Hmmm … I think I've found a place you like to be touched," he murmured, before giving her nipples a slight pinch.

She mewled softly, her head thrown back, her eyes closed tight. He released her breasts and she made a sound of a disappointment, her eyes opening to look at him.

"I think you should lie down," he said to her.

She walked over to the bed, and sat down upon the edge, watching him as he undid the buttons of his shirt before pulling it off and tossing it to the floor. His trousers and socks quickly followed, leaving him only in his pants. He approached her, cupping her face in his hands before leaning down and kissing her. She hummed into his mouth as he moved his hands down her neck, to her shoulders, down her arms, to her waist. He gave her a nudge and she pushed herself back, further onto the bed.

He followed her, their lips not parting as he kneeled over her, easing her down onto the mattress. He kissed a path across her jaw line to her neck, over her throat, before stopping to nuzzle at each of her clavicles. He kissed his way across her sternum, and further downwards until he reached her breasts. He allowed his breath to ghost across her, watching as her nipple puckered further, before he took it between his lips. She cried out, clutching at the back of his head as he suckled her, lolling his tongue across her nipple before biting down upon it.

"Oh Christ Sherlock, fuck!"

He held back a smile as he slipped the rosy bud from between his lips, intent on giving her entire breast his full attention. He suckled, nipped and licked, until her skin was peppered in red marks before moving to her other breast.

"Ahh!"

He continued to work his mouth on her, groaning slightly when she dug her nails into his scalp.

"Oh God, Sherlock, you're going to make me – AHH!"

He had just covered her other breast with his hand, massaging it as he sucked and bit at her nipple. He released her breast from between his lips as a shudder ran through her body and she moaned. He silently watched her, as she gasped for breath. Her eyes opened and she looked at him.

"That's never happened to me before," she explained breathlessly. "I never knew that I could come by just having my breasts touched."

He smiled, looking quite proud of himself. "I intend to make you come at least twice before I am inside of you."

She let out a shaky breath as he raised himself so that he was hovering over her. She reached up, slipping her arms over his shoulders, before their lips met.

"Drink me," she murmured into his mouth. "Eat me." She nibbled at his bottom lip.

"Oh, I intend to."

His hand traveled down her torso, and was now grasping at her knickers, pulling them down. She raised her hips and within moments the fabric had been tossed to the floor. He cupped her face in his hand, kissing her once more before beginning to kiss a path down the length of her body. He gave the underside of each of her breasts a kiss, before nibbling and licking his way across her rib cage to her stomach, stopping to mark her near her navel. He didn't stop again until he reached the apex of trimmed curls between her legs; they were glistening with her arousal.

He shifted further downwards and placed a kiss on one inner thigh, then the other, breathing in the heady scent of her. He brushed his nose ever so barely against her, flicking out his tongue just for a taste.

"Sherlock please!" she cried, making him smile.

He parted her folds with his thumbs, taking in the sight of how wet and pink she was, the swollen nub of her clit just begging to be licked.

"Please, oh please!" she whimpered.

His cock throbbed and twitched against the fabric prison of his pants.

"Please!"

He delved his tongue into her, drinking in her juices as she screamed in triumph. His nose nuzzled at her clit as he slowly fucked her with his tongue. She was babbling now, a slew of curses followed by unintelligible words as he continued to work his mouth on her.

When he pulled away slightly, only to take her clit between his lips, she screamed again, and he knew that her orgasm had struck. He continued to gently swirl his tongue over the tender nub until she gave his head a push. He sat up, looking down at her, her breasts rising and falling as she struggled for breath. He licked his lips clean before wiping his mouth and chin with his hand. She reached out to him and he smiled, curling into her embrace.

She kissed him, dragging her tongue across his bottom lip so that he would open his mouth to her, allowing her to taste herself. When she suddenly palmed him through the fabric of his pants, a jolt ran through his body.

"Molly!" he gasped out. "I need to be inside of you."

"Yes," she practically whimpered.

He sat up, struggling to take off his pants. He flung them to who knows where, before covering her body with his own and kissing her deeply. The sensation of her skin against his sent a delicious thrill through his veins. When she rolled her hips, he let out a muffled curse, breaking apart their kiss as he stared down at her.

She smiled up at him, and gave another roll of her hips so that her folds brushed against his cock just so, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Molly!"

"Yes?"

His eyes snapped open, meeting her strong gaze.

"Mmm … allow me to take you to Wonderland," he murmured.

Molly couldn't stop herself from giggling, making him pout.

"You're allowed to quote the book, and I'm not?" he asked.

She covered her mouth to stop herself. "That's not exactly a quote." She dropped her hand away, moving it to his cock, before palming the crimson head.

Sherlock grabbed her hand, pulling it away. "Stop that!" he growled, and she giggled again. He laced their fingers together, pressing their joined hands down into the mattress. "I'm going to make love to you Molly." His voice was hoarse with desire, dropping into a deeper tone. "Not just tonight, but for as long as we are able."

She stared up at him, wide-eyed. "Are you…?"

"Shhhh…," he whispered, before gently kissing her. He kneeled between her spread legs, raising one of hers to press against the top of his thigh. "Oh." The head of his cock had settled at her entrance. She was warm, and wet, and yes, he could already sense that she was tight. He pushed himself further into her, slowly filling her with his length.

"Yes, Sherlock, yes!" she moaned, encouraging him as she clutched at his sides, her eyes squeezed shut.

He didn't stop until he was entirely sheathed by her. "Molly," he whispered softly, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "Molly, look at me."

She slowly opened her eyes, gasping slightly when she saw the intensity in his gaze.

"I love you."

They stared at each other in shock, amazed by the fact that they had spoken in unison. She smiled at him, chuckling softly. He smiled too, allowing her to pull him close for a kiss. She moaned against his lips as he began to move.

He thrust in and out of her slowly, wanting to revel in the sensation of their bodies joining for as long as he could. When she hooked her leg over his hip, digging her heel into his arse, he gave a slightly harder thrust.

His mind was overrun with the way her body was making him feel, and he hadn't realized he had been speaking out loud until she clung to him tightly, moaning that he too was making her feel so good. They kissed, and between kisses they whispered encouragements to each other, moaning as their bodies moved in unison.

"I'm close, Molly," he gasped out, his hips stuttering slightly.

"Oh so am I!" she whimpered.

"Come with me, Molly." He began to thrust into her as hard as he could.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Uhhh … SHERLOCK!"

The moment she screamed out his name, he felt her walls clench around him. He gave a final surge of his hips, biting out a curse before whispering her name as his cock pulsed and twitched deep inside of her.

"Sherlock, Sherlock!" she moaned, pressing her face into his neck.

He struggled for breath and composure, terrified that he would fall on her and crush her petite form, but yet wanting to keep their bodies connected. As best as he could, he slipped his arm beneath her, holding her to him so that he could roll them onto their sides. He cradled her close, pressing his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids and the tip of her nose.

"Molly, Molly please forgive me," he whispered hoarsely.

She opened her eyes and stared up at him. "Forgive you for what?"

"For denying both of us, this for so long."

She tucked her hand around the back of his head, pressing her lips to his in a tender kiss. "This happened when it was supposed to happen. There's no point in getting upset over lost chances. Let's just focus on that it did happen, and how many more times it's going to happen."

Sherlock chuckled, moving onto his back and pulling her on top of him. "I intend for it to happen again very soon."

Molly giggled. "Mmmm. I think a shower is first in order, I still feel like I have that blasted wig on."

"Me too. Right. Shower, then straight back to this bed. And tomorrow I will take you to Baker Street so I can shag you in my bed." He rolled them over so that she was now lying beneath him.

She giggled again, before hissing in a breath when he nipped at her pulse point. "Ohhhh the things I've imagined you doing to me in that bed!"

He raised his head and looked at her. "Oh? Hmmmm … I think you're going to need to share these fantasies!" he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

She blushed bright red, making him smile widely.

"Molly, what wicked things have you conjured up?"

Her blush deepened, and his smile grew wider.

"Hmmm …" He dropped his head back down, and took her nipple between his teeth giving it a non-too-tender bite.

She yelped, followed by a moan when he sucked it between his lips. "Sherlock! What about showering?"

He released her nipple, moving upwards so that they were once more face to face. "Later. I want you too much to wait." He kissed her before pulling away and smiling. "And don't think for one second that you're going to get out of telling me what you imagined."

Molly bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes twinkling. He lifted her legs and settled them onto his shoulders before slipping his cock into her warmth.

"OH!" She moaned as he became pressed fully up against her. "I'll give you one tiny little hint," she hissed just as he gave a quick, solid thrust. She cried out as he gave another hard thrust. "One of my fantasies involves your riding crop!"

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hehehehehe! :D

Hope you liked it, be sure to leave a comment if you do, they mean so much to me! :)

And as always, come join me on tumblr at Sherlockian87