Really short, but I'm trying to start writing again so whatever.
Enjoy~
She watches him leave.
She doesn't follow, no, at least not right away.
It's no longer that little voice in her head whispering that she's moved on; that she only feels friendship towards him, and nothing more. Not after tonight can she really convince herself of that any longer. No... it's a multitude of things. She is, after all, still engaged to Tom, and running after another man so soon in the evening probably wouldn't be the best course of action.
(Of course, her and Tom really do need to have a long talk, and seriously consider breaking off said engagement.)
Another part of her wants to have this evening. To celebrate her friends' happiness. To dance for a while and forget about Tom, forget about him.
(She had moved to the opposite end of the room from Tom. Luckily for her, John and Mary were over there and both were eager to offer her at least a single dance, albeit separately.)
It's a little after midnight before she deems it reasonable to leave. Tom and her had come to the wedding together (as couples tend to do), so she offers him an apology before assuring him they'd discuss it later.
He looks more than a little hurt, but she doesn't allow herself to dwell on it. Not yet. And there's one stop to make before she heads to her final destination.
She pockets her ring after stepping outside.
There's movement upstairs after Molly knocks. Which makes sense, of course. Sherlock wouldn't have turned it yet, although she is a little surprised he wasn't playing his violin.
The door opens slowly, and he greets her with perhaps the most stunned expression she's ever seen on him. "Molly."
"You hungry?" She has a sneaking suspicion he is. He can eat quite a bit when not on a case. Molly shows him the plastic bag she had been holding behind her back. "I brought fish a chips."
Sherlock's still staring at her as if she's some great puzzle. She bites her cheek to keep from laughing. "Shouldn't you be at the reception? Or with..." he trails off and she watches his eyes dart down to her left hand. "...your ring."
Molly shrugs, "it wasn't working for me."
Now it was her turn to watch Sherlock bite back a smile. "So you came here in hopes..."
"Of having dinner, yes." She repeats, motioning to the bag of fish and chips again.
"Little late for dinner, don't you think?" Sherlock moved aside as he spoke, allowing her in.
She giggles, moving past him and up the stairs. "We can work something out, I'm sure."