Hello again, guys. Wow, I didn't expect any of the amazing reviews and wonderful support I received for the first chapter…thank you all so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter ;) …

After a few moments of silence, John sighed and got to his feet. He bade Sherlock goodnight and trudged to his bedroom, yawning as he went. Sherlock lifted his head and swallowed, reaching for his phone. He was watching it as though expecting it to explode before shaking his head and putting it down again. Ask her out…it's easy enough to do. She'll say yes, naturally. Sherlock sighed irritably and snatched his phone, tapping in a short message and sending it quickly without reading it.

Have dinner with me. SH

Sherlock twirled the phone through his fingers and waited anxiously for a reply. He heard a loud sigh from John's bedroom.

"Ok…but you're buying." Sherlock frowned, staring at his phone. He heard the smirk in John's tone, alright; he had been so distracted he had sent the message to the wrong person. He buried his face in his hands and rolled over, bringing his knees higher and returning to his sulk.

The next day wasn't any easier; even though he didn't have a case, Sherlock still demanded they go to Bart's. John didn't need telling as to why that was; they had shared a conversation that morning about how Sherlock should go about it. It had been less than comfortable.

"What happens next, then?" John had shrugged and wriggled in his chair, avoiding his flatmate's gaze.

"Well…you have a date and then several more until the time is right to…" John had gestured with his hands and Sherlock had made an irritated sound.

"What?" John was glowing red when he glanced at the floor, speaking in a barely audible whisper.

"…take it to the next level…" he had disappeared into his bedroom before Sherlock had a chance to ask what the next level was.

They were greeted with an unfamiliar face, however, as they entered the familiar grey atmosphere of the morgue. The man beamed at them and consulted Molly's notes.

"Oh, Sherlock and John…right? Yeah…Molly's off sick today so, if there's anything you need feel free to ask."

Sherlock turned to John who was rubbing the back of his neck in confusion. Sherlock thought to himself for a moment. She cannot be ill. She was certainly fine last night. She's avoiding me. Sherlock turned to Molly's cover and shook his head.

"No, that will not be necessary."

Without another word, Sherlock turned and hurried away, leaving John and Molly's cover blinking in confusion. John sighed, preparing to slowly walk back to Baker Street as Sherlock was nowhere in sight. Three guesses as to where Sherlock's gone.

Sherlock had broken many things in his life but never had he destroyed a table leg by simply kicking at it; then again, the force with which he had done so meant the outcome was inevitable. He stared at his broken desk leg and shook his head; he could see Molly rushing around trying to find Jase's number so they could arrange a date. Sherlock gave an angry yell before collapsing onto his bed and eventually falling into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, John had to make sure he tread carefully around his volatile flatmate. They remained silent as John ate his breakfast until Sherlock insisted they go to Bart's. Sherlock clenched his fists tightly as he pushed the morgue doors open and, sure enough, found Molly hastily flicking through her reports. She gave a small smile to them as she searched.

"Have you seen Jase's number? I thought I left it right here…" Molly was scratching her head in confusion and John bit his lip. He caught Sherlock's desperately pleading expression and sighed.

"Maybe you put it in your locker and forgot about it."

Sherlock gave John a grateful smile as Molly tapped her chin and rushed away, muttering to herself. John frowned as he took the stool next to his friend. I am a horrible person. He heard Sherlock clear his throat and mutter almost inaudibly.

"Thank you." John huffed. I don't know why I do these things for you, Sherlock. You dig yourself into these holes.

Molly returned almost immediately, a smile lighting up her face which for some reason, made Sherlock's heart sink to his stomach. John glanced between the two as Molly clutched at her chest, shaking her head.

"It's ok…I saw Jase in the corridor. We're meeting after my shift, today."

She released an excited giggle as she sat behind her desk. Sherlock released a deep breath, resting his head in his hands. He faintly felt John's supportive pat to his shoulder…but it did nothing to ease the aching he felt inside his body. He rose to his feet as an idea occurred to him. I have to find Jase.

Sherlock tapped forcefully on Molly's door, tapping his foot in impatience; he was desperate to know why she was ignoring him. She should be happy. She's always wanted to be kissed by me. It should be Molly begging me to be kissed again. Sherlock sighed as he heard the sound of bare feet padding on wood before the door was pulled open; Molly was standing there, looking perfectly healthy in her sensible pyjamas and dressing gown. Molly gasped as Sherlock pushed his way inside, a furious look in his eyes.

"You are clearly not sick. Why are you avoiding me? Did I do wrong?" Molly swallowed and folded her arms, pulling her dressing gown closed. Sherlock swallowed and tried to avoid her gaze; he failed miserably.

"Well…I thought you wouldn't want to see me. I didn't want to hear you telling me it was a mistake straight away. I wanted to at least pretend it's going somewhere…for a little while."

Molly shrugged in defeat and dropped her arms, fiddling with her hands. How pathetic…if he didn't want to continue before he certainly won't now. Sherlock simply stared at her, nodding every now and again. After a moment of apparent thinking, Sherlock nodded and spoke decisively.

"Ok…let's go."

Molly blinked in confusion, her mouth hanging open as Sherlock gestured towards her door; he had sounded as though this was the exact reason he had come to see her. Molly swallowed, her nervous stammer overcoming her momentarily.

"W-where?" Sherlock's lips twitched into a smirk, his hands clasping behind his back.

"Our first date," Molly gaped and, after a long moment of open-mouthed staring, gestured at her pyjamas, failing to keep the smile off of her face. Sherlock rolled his eyes, consulting his watch "…well, how long do you need?"

Molly bit her lip. To dress to impress Sherlock bloody Holmes? An eternity. Molly tapped her chin, trying to think of something reasonable.

"Give me an hour. I'm sure I can do something." Molly winked and started to run towards her bedroom. Sherlock chuckled and Molly caught his words as he pulled out his phone.

"I am sure I can move the reservation back…the manager owes me a favour."

Once inside, Molly threw her pyjamas off and rummaged through her wardrobe but not before managing to sneak in a silent cheer, flailing her arms around like a child. He booked! He knew what he came here for! Cocky git even knew I'd say yes! Molly was looking extremely forward to their date in an hour…almost as much as Sherlock Holmes himself.

Sherlock was sitting in the morgue with an enormous smug grin on his face; he had managed to convince Jase that the best way to impress Molly was to behave atrociously. He had agreed with a nervous nod, understanding Sherlock's deductive abilities. His grin didn't last long, however, for Jase had now finished his shift upstairs and was hanging around until Molly had finished hers, nervously wringing his hands. Sherlock found his presence irritating as he tried to work, studying various samples from the autopsies that Molly had carried out. Sherlock stopped abruptly as Jase leaned over his shoulder, trying to get a look.

"Do you mind…isn't there somewhere you should be?" Preferably on the other side of the world.

Jase bit his lip and took a step back, glancing over his shoulder; Molly was preparing to leave. Jase nodded and moved over to where Molly was standing, muttering an apology to the took a deep breath and nodded, not turning to face Jase and instead pressed himself further into the microscope.

"Ready?" Molly nodded and waved goodbye to John, leaving the morgue with Jase. The room fell silent once more and, after a moment, John turned to Sherlock, smiling sympathetically.

"For a moment, I thought you were going to punch him…"

"For a moment, I wanted to." For a moment? Sherlock tapped his leg irritably and John sighed as he watched his flatmate give up and get to his feet, wandering over to their coats.

"We're going to follow them, aren't we?" Sherlock simply nodded and hurried out of the doors, pulling his coat around him as he moved. John shook his head but followed Sherlock hastily.

Molly managed to grip her bedroom door handle with her shaky hands and pull it open; she had dressed in her favourite purple dress and heels, she kept her hair down and straight and her make-up and jewellery remained simple. Molly tried to control her smiling as she moved into her living room, frowning when she saw it was empty; Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. Molly shook her head in disbelief. Of course he wouldn't stick around. He probably came to his senses…he could have any girl he wanted. Unless…I imagined the whole thing! Just as Molly considered checking if she had made the whole thing up, she noticed Sherlock's very familiar coat draped across her sofa. Molly raised her eyebrows and approached it cautiously, as though it was a bomb. It was his coat alright, but still no sign of the man himself. Molly placed her bag onto the sofa followed by her hands on her hips. Where the-

Molly heard a very distinctive and irritated huff coming from the direction of her kitchen. Grinning widely, Molly slowly approached her kitchen and gasped as she glanced around. The lights were dimmed and many candles adorned the worktops and the table, a white tablecloth was draped across her once boring wooden table and the room was cast in a very romantic atmosphere. Molly was on the verge of tears as she met Sherlock's eyes; he looked nervous as he approached her.

"The restaurant was fully booked…like I said, the manager owes me a favour if he doesn't want his wife finding out about his gambling debts. He was able to send the food," he gestured towards the table but didn't remove his eyes from hers, "…it's much more private this way, I thought. Peace and quiet."

"It's…perfect. No one has ever done anything like this for me before." Sherlock couldn't help but smile and he glanced at the floor as he muttered.

"I am glad you said an hour…otherwise, I would have been on a very tight schedule." Molly giggled softly and Sherlock led her over to one of her chairs and pulling it out for her. Wow…I'm impressed. He's learned well, from someone.

"My father gave Mycroft and I rather unnecessary lessons on how he eventually wooed my mother when we were children. I suppose I didn't delete the information…" Molly would perhaps never get used to the way he seemed to telepathic powers.

After unpacking their food, pouring the wine and settling into pleasant, albeit slightly awkward, conversation, Molly found she was having the best date of her life…with Sherlock Holmes. They were eating – both of them – and they both relaxed considerably; Molly had never felt so calmed and smooth in his presence before. She didn't even blush when she spilled wine over herself. Even though their conversation didn't stray from their work, they had plenty to say. Something was still confusing Molly though and she just had to ask him before she exploded. She prodded her chicken with her fork before looking up and meeting his concerned gaze.

"Sherlock…you didn't have to do all this. All you have to do is make a deduction and I'd melt like-"

"Your lipstick is French. A special brand you bought whilst away visiting your mother." Sherlock looked smug as Molly opened and closed her mouth several times. She shook her head, defeated.

"Ok…how could you possibly know that?" Sherlock sighed and leaned back in his chair, his smirk showing no sign of disappearing as he folded his arms; Molly bit hard into her lip.

"Two things, actually. I noticed your receipt on the coffee table in the living room," Molly rolled her eyes and nodded for him to continue, "…and also Mycroft owns the same one. He says it's Anthea's but I'm not so sure…"

Molly had almost spat her wine everywhere much to Sherlock's apparent amusement; she didn't know he could make jokes. After her giggles subsided, Molly returned to a more serious tone and spoke in a low voice.

"No…but seriously, this is amazing, Sherlock. Why did you go to all this trouble…for me?" Sherlock released a sigh and leaned forwards, propping his elbows on the table and clasping his hands. He narrowed his eyes.

"The same reason you dressed up for me, Molly. It's the same situation for me, also…you don't need to impress me. I didn't agree to a date with your clothes, Molly."

Molly swallowed, half-considering throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him senseless. After a moment, Molly spoke in a soft whisper.

"I wanted to dress up nice for you."

"…and I wanted to do this for you. I know I am not an expert in expressing my emotions through words. Actions speak louder than words, do they not? That is why I went to all that trouble. You, Molly Hooper, are worth it."

There several moments where they just listened to each other's deep breathing and avoiding each other's gaze awkwardly. Molly was the first to break the silence.

"You're lovely…no matter what anyone says. Thank you for a wonderful, unforgettable evening."

Sherlock looked up and met her eyes, blinking rapidly; he could feel his cheeks growing warmer…embarrassment wasn't something he was used to. Neither wanted the night to end but soon, Sherlock was helping Molly clear away and wash up – she had insisted she'd do it, but the newly awakened gentlemanly Holmes gene he inherited from his father took over and he was assisting her. Their eyes met nervously once and their skin brushed against each other; Molly had been holding a plate over the sink which she proceeded to drop, showering Sherlock with bubbles. Molly had a good laugh over that whilst Sherlock frowned – he would never admit to anyone he'd do it a thousand times over if it meant she would smile again. That, he would take to his grave. Far too soon, Sherlock was standing at Molly's door and tilting his head thoughtfully.

"That was…nice. I am informed there are to be several others." Molly nodded fiddling with her hands as she glanced nervously at the floor.

"Yeah…only if you want to, I'm not going to force you to endure-"

Molly almost stopped breathing when Sherlock placed his hand at the bottom of her chin, tilting her head to meet his eyes. It was Molly's turn to lean now and place a very passionate kiss to his lips. Sherlock's hands wound themselves around her waist and lifted her from the ground with the force of his response; Molly gripped tightly to his hair, only partly for support. After a while, Molly was back on the ground and breathless…Sherlock was blinking rapidly as though trying to process what just happened.

"Right…so…next time…yes…" He was walking away now, muttering to himself. Molly smiled after him and closed the door, a permanent smile creeping onto her face as she jumped around her flat in joy.

Sherlock and John snuck into the dark cinema and settled directly behind Molly and Jase; John had insisted it was risky business but Sherlock hadn't listened. Sure enough, Jase had taken Sherlock's advice and was treating Molly rather poorly, choosing a film he would like and insisting she buy her own refreshments. Sherlock bit back his smug smile at the look of boredom on Molly's face. Jase, however, seemed to be having a wonderful time and John looked confused. He leaned in to whisper to his friend.

"What did you say to Jase?"

Sherlock simply pressed a finger to his lips. He saw Molly shiver and was about to drape his coat around her when he remembered he was spying on her. Jase bit his lip and, for a split second, Sherlock thought he was going to do the same before he shook his head and returned to the movie. John buried his face in his hand at Sherlock's deep sigh of relief. This painful saga continued for another hour and a half and John wanted so badly to end it; Sherlock had slipped into his mind palace to ignore the drivel on the screen, opening his eyes every now and then to check on the drama in front of him. After the movie, they were forced to duck out of sight as Jase and an irritable Molly stood to leave the cinema. Sherlock sighed as he got back to his feet, hurrying after them before they disappeared. He was too late, though, and they were nowhere in sight. He scanned the many cinema goers and concluded they had indeed left. Sherlock sighed and folded his arms huffily; he faintly heard John's supportive voice in his ear.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock."

John smirked to himself as he heard Sherlock trying to discreetly enter the flat; he had been gone an awfully long time and had ignored all of his texts. He moved away from his laptop and folded his arms, almost bursting with the excitement of seeing Sherlock's expression. His flatmate slowly tiptoed upstairs, cursing the squeaky floorboard silently before sighing when he saw the light from the closed door of the flat. Sherlock took a deep breath and pushed the door open, frowning at the stupid grin he noticed immediately on John's face. He gently slipped the coat from his shoulders and moved over to the sofa, feeling John's eyes on him the whole time as he settled into his mind palace position. Frustration finally took over John and he sighed irritably.

"Well? What happened?" Sherlock hardly moved apart from the very distinctive smirk he had gained moments ago.

"I am not sure…but I certainly want to do it again." John blinked in confusion and shook his head as he watched Sherlock close his eyes and rearrange his mind palace. John was struck with a sudden thought that made him feel slightly uneasy. I'm going to be a third wheel tomorrow at Bart's tomorrow, aren't I?

For some reason, instead of returning to Baker Street with John, Sherlock decided to wander aimlessly through the streets of London, buried deep in his thoughts. This means nothing. They still had a decidedly bad time. Before he really knew it, Sherlock had arrived at Bart's and blinked in confusion. It was now dark and the night staff had definitely started their shifts. Sherlock didn't understand why he feet seemed to want to go inside but here he was, moving towards the light in the morgue. He heard distinctive voices, raised voices and he paused.

"Come on, Molly…stop sulking. Why are you hiding here, anyway? Are you waiting for him?" Sherlock frowned as Jase's voice sounded very irritable. Sherlock wondered what Jase meant but didn't have to wait for very long.

"I…didn't…I'm sorry…" Sherlock closed his eyes, shaking his head at Molly's whimper. Jase gave a harsh laugh and his yell was very audible down the long corridor.

"You're sorry? You moan another man's name whilst I'm kissing you…and then you run away to the only other place he'd be?" Sherlock snapped his eyes open, unable to keep the overjoyed feeling inside him. He heard Molly sigh dramatically before Jase's gentle voice, "…ok, don't worry about it. I know you've had a crush on him for ages-"

"No…I'm in love with Sherlock. That's why I cannot do this to you anymore. Tonight helped me to realise. Until I get over him, I can't keep doing this to you. That's why I'm sorry."

Sherlock's back hit the opposite wall from the force of Molly's words hitting him. Hmmm…I am such an idiot. That doesn't happen to me very often. He heard Jase's soft sigh before his decisive voice.

"Ok…I hope you get over him. When you do, maybe we'll pick up where we left off."

"I'd like that. I'm sorry."

The morgue doors swung open a second later before Jase walked down the halls with slightly slumped shoulders, muttering 'lucky guy' to himself. Sherlock pressed himself further into the dark shadows of the corridor to avoid Jase's approaching figure. Not long after, he heard Molly give a frustrated yell and the morgue doors burst open once more. She was hastily tapping on her phone and pressing it to her ear when she crashed into something soft and dark directly in front of her. She shook herself and looked up, meeting the deep blue gaze of Sherlock Holmes.

"I don't want you to get over me."

Molly blinked, opening and closing her mouth several times before she registered Jase had picked up his phone and was speaking to her in a hopeful voice.

"Hello? Molly, is that you?"

Well…I hope you enjoyed that chapter ;) Thank you so much for reading (I enjoyed writing this chapter and I'm a bit conflicted as to which scenario I prefer, lol :) xx Anyway, thank you so much again and please let me know if you liked it…or thought it was the worst piece of writing ever *nervous laughter* Stay tuned, back soon xx