All righty, here is part two!

If you haven't seen Season 4 of Sherlock yet, then ahhh ... there's going to be a bit in this chapter that you won't understand.

I HIGHLY RECOMMEND watching that season ;)

Part Two

Later that evening Molly made her way home, humming quietly to herself. She had to admit though, she was slightly nervous. It wasn't like Sherlock to want to … well … talk. At least not in the way he was so clearly implying. And she knew exactly what it was that he wanted to talk about.

The phone call.

They had discussed it. He had explained everything to her, what Eurus had done, had led him to believe would happen if he hadn't convinced Molly to say those three little words. Those three little words that she had made him say first. Surely Eurus hadn't expected that. But clearly there was more he needed to tell her. Yes, those were the very words he had used: 'there is something I need to tell you.' What could that be?

Toby greeted her at the door with a meow of delight. He led her straight into the kitchen, and she followed chuckling, knowing that he was anxious for his evening meal. She hadn't even taken off her coat or put down her bag. Once Toby was fed, she undid her coat and set her bag down on the chair in her front room. She glanced briefly at the time and decided that she would take the risk and have a quick shower.

Fifteen minutes later she surfaced from her bathroom, toweling dry her hair. There was still no sign of Sherlock, and no texts from him either. Refusing to allow herself to worry she pulled on a ratty pair of pyjama pants and a loose t-shirt, not bothering with either bra or knickers. After squeezing out as much water from her hair as she could, she plaited it and left her bedroom. Just as she was about to walk into the kitchen she heard a key in the lock. She stood and waited for the door to open. Sherlock stepped in, bringing with him the smell of fresh chips, making her mouth water.

"You're later than I expected," she said to him in mock dismay, placing her hands on her hips for emphasis.

"I place the blame entirely on Mrs. Hudson, you know how she can get, babbling on."

Molly laughed, and stepped forward, taking the chips from him. "Ohhh, you got double portions!"

"Of course," he said, removing his coat. "I always do." He followed her to her sofa. "There's napkins in the bag," he said, removing his suit jacket.

"Oh good, do you want anything to drink? Tea? Water? Beer? Wine?" she asked, setting the bag of chips onto her coffee table, before moving towards her kitchen.

"Water is fine, thanks."

She returned shortly with two glasses of water. Toby had made himself comfortable on Sherlock's lap, purring loudly. After she sat, she handed Sherlock his chip portion and took up her own.

"Mmmm … these really are delicious," she said after taking a bite.

He didn't respond, eating his chips quietly. She wanted to ask him what it was that he wanted to talk about, but thought that perhaps it would be best to wait until after they had finished eating. Thankfully the silence wasn't uncomfortable, it never had been between them.

When they were both finished she took their containers into the kitchen and tossed them into the bin. She washed her hands and returned to the sofa. Toby had jumped down and wandered off to who knows where.

"So … what did you want to talk about?" she asked, tucking a leg beneath her.

Sherlock straightened, took in a breath and looked at her. "I meant it. What I said on the phone. I meant it. The first time I only said it because you told me to, but the second time, the second time was when I realized that it was true." He paused, glancing away briefly before returning his gaze to hers, his expression mirroring that of a fearful child. "I love you Molly, and I know that I don't deserve to love you but I-" His sentence was cut off by her climbing onto his lap and kissing him soundly. He locked his arms around her waist, pressing her to him as he deepened the kiss.

"I know Sherlock," she murmured against his lips. "I've always known." She brushed her fingertips across his cheekbones, before moving her hands into his curls; they were so incredibly soft.

"You-you have?" he stammered out.

She smiled sweetly, bumping the tip of her nose against his. "Mmmhmmm."

He sighed. "You really do see me."

She gave his lips a gentle kiss. "Yeah, far more than you realize."

He humphed. "That's rather a frightening thought."

She giggled. "Don't be frightened. There's nothing to be frightened about."

He sniffed, making her giggle again.

"Do I need to kiss that pout away?"

The corners of his mouth twitched. "It's worth a try I suppose."

She kissed him, and as he tightened his arms around her she made a noise that went straight to his groin.

"There's something else you need to know," he said once they parted. "Something else that I haven't told you."

She leaned her forehead against his. "What is it?"

"There was … my sister …" He fumbled over his words, unsure of how to say it. "...Before she called you … there was …"

"A coffin."

His eyes met hers. "You know?"

She nodded. "John told me." She reached behind her and took a hold of his hands, bringing them forward. "He told me what you did. How upset you were … after …" She looked down at his hands, the scars barely visible, she raised them to her lips, pressing kisses to his skin.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Molly. I never have. And at that moment I feared that I had truly lost you, that what I had done was the final straw."

She pressed herself against his chest, slipping her arms around his slim waist. He mirrored her actions, cradling her close.

"You didn't, you didn't lose me," she said quietly. "You still have me, Sherlock."

He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in deeply. After a time she leaned back, their eyes meeting. He brought up his hands and undid her braid, working his fingers through her hair until it fell softly against her shoulders. She kissed him, and he placed his hand on her neck, stroking the skin there with his thumb.

"Stay the night?" she questioned.

"If you'll have me."

She nodded and slipped off of his lap. He followed her as she led him into her bedroom. When they neared the bed, she turned to face him.

"We can take things slow, we don't have to do anything else tonight," she said to him.

He hesitated for a moment, before saying, "All right."

"I don't want you to be overwhelmed."

He kissed her. "Thank you," he murmured. "My pyjamas are in the bottom drawer, like always?"

She nodded, and he kissed her again. He got his pyjamas and moved into the bathroom. She climbed onto the bed and slipped beneath the covers. He returned to the bedroom a few minutes later, placing his folded clothes on the chair before coming over to the bed. She patted the spot beside her. He raised the blanket and slipped beneath it, sliding up next to her.

"Hi," she said to him.

"Hello."

Their lips met as he gathered her into his arms. She sighed into the kiss, gently scraping her nails against his scalp.

"I never thought much of kissing before …" he murmured to her, "...but now … after kissing you …. mmm, I see what all the fuss is about."

Before she had any chance of giving a reply, he was kissing her again. He rolled on top of her, his body settling against hers as if they were meant to fit together. She smoothed her hands down his sides, until they reached the hem of his t-shirt. She slipped her hands beneath the fabric and stroked the skin of his back. He broke apart their kiss, breathing heavily as he laid his forehead against her shoulder.

"You alright?" she questioned softly.

He nodded before moving off of her, and said, "Yes … it's just … if we want to take things slow … I think we better stop … right now." He stretched out on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

She moved onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. "I can help with that … if you want …" she said, nodding her head towards his very obvious erection. She had felt it when he pressed himself against her, and her own body had responded in kind; wetness pooling between her legs. She watched as he swallowed, but was surprised when he shook his head.

"No, you needn't do that."

"What if I want to."

"Molly," he growled out, making her unable to stop a giggle.

He glared at her, and she instantly put a stop to her mirth.

"I only want to help make you more comfortable," she said, biting down on her bottom lip.

"It's fine Molly, I know how to take care of it."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

His glare returned, and she smiled cheekily.

"I know that you are well aware that I am a man."

She kept her smile from widening. "Oh, I am very aware that you are a man Sherlock … but I also thought that you considered your body to be merely transport."

He sniffed, all too well aware that she was teasing him.

"I am human," he bit out. "I do have needs, no matter how hard I try to ignore them."

She moved closer to him. "Yes … you do have needs … won't you allow me to service this one?" she asked, moving her hand towards the tent in his pyjama bottoms. She stopped, just before she was about to touch him, waiting for him to tell her yes or no.

He stared at her for several moments. "I thought you said we would take things slow?"

She moved her hand away. "I did, but usually that refers to having sex … this … isn't having sex. And we don't have to get naked. So … do you want me to help you or not?"

He stared at her for a few moments longer, then nodded. But just as she was about to move her hand, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist, stopping her. She looked at him in surprise.

"I want to do the same for you," he stated.

"Oh…" She could feel her cheeks burn pink. "If you like."

He smirked. "Molly, I know you're aroused. Don't deny it."

She practically squirmed at the thought of what he was suggesting. "Ok," she said, sounding a little breathless.

His smirk widened into a smug smile. He released her wrist and she moved onto her knees, facing him. She appeared to think for a moment, then straddled his leg and leaned forward to kiss him, her body hovering over his.

"Give me your hand," she whispered to him.

He placed his hand in hers, and she brought it to the top of her pyjama bottoms. She pressed his palm flat against her stomach, then dropped her hand away. She quirked a smile at him and slipped her hand beneath the top of his pyjamas. He hissed out a breath the moment her hand made contact with his cock.

Wrapping her fingers around his girth, she held him, giving him a moment to adjust to the sensation. When she felt his own hand slide beneath the hem of her pyjamas she began to stroke him.

"Oh!" she gasped, his finger managing to make direct contact with her clit.

He swirled his thumb across and around it, trying his hardest to stay focused, the movements of her hand on his cock was proving to be extremely distracting. He wanted to put his fingers inside her, but also feared that he may hurt her. Especially due to the fact that she was rocking her hips in rhythm with his hand.

Suddenly she tilted further forward, pressing herself against his thumb, and kissed him. He groaned into her mouth as she quickened the pace of her hand on his cock, pumping him.

"Close," he managed to croak out, his cock practically pulsing, he was certain she could feel that.

She made a soft mewling noise against his lips, and with one final swipe of his thumb, she was done for. He bucked his hips as she squeezed him, his cock throbbing and twitching.

"Fuck!" he groaned, falling back down to the bed, suddenly feeling boneless.

She released his cock, but gave him a few tender strokes before removing her hand from his pyjamas. He did the same, laying it across his stomach, his fingers glistening with her juices. After taking in a breath she fell down onto her side, before letting out a blissful sigh.

"That was …. mmmmmm!" she murmured.

He breathed out through his nose. "Yes." He sat up, somewhat awkwardly. "I think I'll just …" he stopped, and looked at her over his shoulder.

"It's all right, you can clean yourself up first," she said to him. "There's another pair of pyjamas in the drawer."

He smiled at her then stood. She watched him as he got the pyjamas and stumbled towards the bathroom. Once the door shut behind him she let out a few blissful giggles, pressing her face into the pillow to stifle them. She couldn't believe what had just happened! And how good it had felt. If such a simple thing as his touch could feel so incredible, what was everything else going to be like? She silently cursed herself for suggesting that they take things slow.

The bathroom door opened, and she popped up. She quickly grabbed another pair of pyjama bottoms and hurried past him, desperate to be back in bed with him. Once she was done she hesitated in the doorway, drinking in the sight of him stretched out on her bed. He hadn't returned beneath the covers.

"Are you going to come back over here or are you going to stare at me all night?" he questioned.

She laughed and walked towards the bed, he sat up, moving so rapidly that he caught her off guard. She gasped as he pulled her down onto the mattress, rolling her beneath him before he kissed her soundly. She returned the kiss, holding onto him tightly.

"Thank you," he whispered against her lips, his eyes gazing into hers.

She smoothed her hands through his curls. "You're most welcome, and thank you!"

He kissed her again, then moved off of her. They pulled the blanket and sheet out from under them, snuggling together beneath it.

"I never thought of you as a cuddler," she said to him.

His arm was tucked around her, moulding her body to his, he was pressing kisses to the side of her neck. "I'm not. This isn't cuddling," he declared.

She chuckled. "If this isn't cuddling, then what is it?" she asked, moving her hand up and down his back.

"Mmmmm … holding!"

She laughed outright. "We're cuddling Sherlock. Admit it."

He breathed out against her neck. "Must I?" he asked, sounding like a petulant child.

She laughed again, leaning back so that she could look at him. He was pouting.

"Oh honestly Sherlock!" She kissed his pout away.

After a few minutes they settled down against the pillows. He yawned widely.

"I didn't expect what we just did to make me feel so tired," he said.

She smiled. "Yeah, a good orgasm can do that to you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Mhmm. File that in your Mind Palace."

He laughed. "I think I will."

She tucked herself beneath his chin, sighing contentedly when he put his arms around her. Within minutes they were both fast asleep.

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Soooo ... do you think they are going to manage to continue to "take things slow?" -whistles innocently-