So here is the end to the mini-story. I look at this as being more of a prologue to a bigger story involving Molly and her journey of self-discovery. Thanks to everyone for reading.

SM - SM - SM

A week later Molly stood in the living room of 221B Baker Street, staring at a shocked Sherlock Holmes.

"I love you," she blurted out. She hesitated, feeling uncertain, then she smiled, it was a wide, genuine, beautiful smile. "Oh my, I never thought I'd actually tell you." She laughed. "It wasn't even that hard. I have been in love with you for so long I couldn't even tell you when it began. I would do anything for you. But I can't keep lying to myself by pretending that I don't love you."

"I had no idea. I suspected a small infatuation…"

"Of course you didn't know. That would involve you actually paying attention to another person's feelings." She smiled sadly. "Would you like to have coffee? And, yes, I know, black, 2 sugars. I mean would you like to go out with me and have coffee? Or tea. Or any beverage really. Just you, me, together. Like a date."

She was pushing her hand, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to give him an out this time. No misunderstandings, no misinterpretations, if he was going to reject her she was going to make him say the words out loud.

She needed to hear the rejection, needed to feel the words wash over her like waves, needed to feel the physical pain, needed her heart to break in two. She needed it all so that she could finally start her journey to healing, her journey to forgetting Sherlock Holmes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't."

Even though it was exactly what she had expected, the words still ripped a hole through her lungs, momentarily taking her breath away. What was that old cliché, 'pain is just weakness leaving the body?'

Her weakness had always been Sherlock.

Sherlock was the pain inside her.

Well, if Sherlock had ever been inside her, she probably wouldn't be in this position right now.

Don't make jokes Molly; they're really not your area.

A small laugh escaped Molly, then another and another, followed by a sob until she didn't know if she was laughing or crying.

"Molly, are you okay?"

"No," she choked out on a broken sob. She wiped haphazardly at the tears streaking down her face. "No, I'm not alright. But I will be."