A/N: This two-parter has become a three-parter, sorry, no M rating yet - next chapter for sure!
Sherlock strode into the path lab, his hands in his pockets and his coat flared dramatically behind him as he crossed the room. Molly looked up from her microscope as he approached, offering him a cheerful smile in greeting. "Hullo, Sherlock!"
He came to a stop directly in front of her, looking her up and down, head to foot, nodding in approval at what he saw: Molly Hooper, hair pulled back in a tidy ponytail, wearing loose khakis and a horrible pink-and-yellow jumper over a mismatched blouse, sensible black flats on her feet with her white lab coat over all. "I think I should clarify a few things," he finally said as she stared up at him in confusion.
"Um, what things?" she asked, a tiny furrow appearing between her brows. Brows which were really rather well shaped, now that he was paying attention to such tiny details.
He pulled his hands from his pockets and slowly, deliberately stripped off his gloves, setting them down on the table next to her microscope. The furrow between her brows deepened, but he certainly had her full attention. Next he removed his scarf, just as deliberately, and laid it next to the gloves. "Sherlock? What's going on?" she asked, standing up as if feeling the need to ready herself for anything.
He smiled. Perfect; he really did want her ready for anything. He reached out, palm up, waiting for her to place her hand in his. Which she did after another moment, slowly, hesitantly, but with as much curiosity as concern in her warm brown eyes. "Molly," he rumbled, "you seem to be under several misapprehensions about me. For one thing, I am neither gay nor asexual. I've simply chosen to repress my sexual tendencies - especially my attraction to you - for the sake of my Work."
"I, okay, but...wait, what did you say?" she interrupted herself to ask, eyes wide with disbelief. "Did - did you just say you're attracted to me?"
He nodded, holding her gaze. "I am. And have been for almost as long as we've known one another." He let his thumb graze her palm, enjoying the shiver that went over her at the sensation. "However, I've discovered over the past few years that all the things I once believed were mere distractions actually enhance my abilities." He reached out with his free hand to cup her cheek. "Friendship, family, and - I look forward to confirming - sex."
With that word he leaned down to capture her lips in a searing kiss.
When they came up for air, Molly looked both dazed and pleased...but her expression quickly morphed into suspicion. "You were listening in earlier, when I was talking to Meena," she accused.
He shrugged and nodded, not at all abashed at having been found out. "A most enlightening conversation."
Molly narrowed her eyes and pulled out of his embrace. "Sherlock Holmes, if this is just about competing with Jim Moriarty, I swear to God…"
"Not competing with," he corrected her with a smouldering look. "Besting him." He tugged her gently forward by the wrist, making sure to keep eye contact so there would be no mistaking his sincerity. "By making certain that you never think fondly about sex with him ever again - because I intend to give you something much better to think about instead."
"And then what, you just stroll away like nothing ever happened?" Molly said skeptically.
He matched her frown with a scowl. "Of course not! Do you honestly believe I'd give up five years of voluntary celibacy for a one-off?"
"You must've done before, else it would have been a lot longer than five years," Molly pointed out.
Could his admiration for her possibly get any higher? He'd doubted that in the past, and yet here she was again, deducing him. Proving him wrong while he was in the midst of trying to prove HER wrong. Marvelous! Well, except for the fact that she was still questioning him when all he wanted to do was crowd her against the nearest wall and shag her breathless.
"That was different," he said as he shrugged out of his coat and laid it over the stool she'd just vacated.
"Different how?" she asked, resisting his (admittedly impatient) tug on her wrist this time.
He used his free hand to undo the buttons of his suit jacket. "Because I wasn't in love with The Woman," he said bluntly. Might as well get the tricky bit out of the way so she'd stop being so bloody difficult.
"I - you...what?!" Molly exclaimed, but he was done talking and so should she be. Instead of answering her, he kissed her again, pulling her tightly against his body
"You love me?" Molly asked, rather breathlessly, when the kiss ended. "You're...in love...with me? Since when?"
Sherlock refrained from sighing and rolling his eyes, although he was sorely tempted; this seduction wasn't going at all to plan. "Since about five minutes after we met and you impressed me with your skill, technique and intelligence during the Phillips autopsy. But at the time sentiment was something to be avoided at all costs, or so I told myself, and so I boxed it all up and put in the deepest, darkest cupboard of my mind palace. But no matter how much I tried to delete things about you, they refused to completely vanish - and that damned cupboard," he added rather crossly, "is about the size of bloody Buckingham palace now. And it's all your fault."
Molly smiled, reaching up to toy with the top button of his shirt. "Cupboard, eh?" she mused.
"That wasn't exactly the focus of my - oh!" Sherlock interrupted himself, eyes widening as he realized what she meant. He grinned back at her, slow and smouldering and full of promise. "Yes, cupboard," he agreed, and allowed her drag him out of the lab.