violetjersy asked:#31. Prostitute/Client AU for my beloved Sherlolly... because we seriously don't have too many of these... ❤

Okay, here's what… This story was about 1900 words and all "the morning after" with no flashbacks or, really, any Sherlock to speak of. Then I sent it to Miz. She, being the amazing beta that she is, encouraged me to go further and add flashbacks. She right, of course, and I went to work. I also changed the ending quite a bit after adding the 4000+ words to make everything work. In other words, thank you Mizjoely for being honest and pushing me when I needed pushed!

As per usual, the chunks of italicised words are flashbacks. Very sexy flashbacks ; )

This is a pretty strong M, as you might imagine.

I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~

-Like the Very First Time -

Molly smiled as she paid for her green tea, though if she were honest, she wasn't in a very good mood. Okay, she was still feeling pretty satisfied from the amazing sex the night before (and very early that morning), but the scene afterward had left her conflicted. Stop thinking about it, Hooper, she told herself as she walked to the Tube. Once seated, she closed her eyes and tried to relax as the train took her towards Belgravia.

Five minutes later she opened her eyes. "Bugger!" It was pointless. She couldn't stop thinking about the curly-haired man or the evening they had shared. Even more difficult to ignore was their early morning encounter when he had tried to get her to stay. No! I will not think about it, she argued with herself as she took a drink of her tea and desperately tried to focus on something else. Unfortunately, the memory she found wasn't all that helpful...

"...didn't know it would be like this," he said as he paced, still fully nude, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. "This… this changes everything!"

Molly immediately started gathering her clothes. "Yes, sex can be… enlightening," she said as she pulled on her knickers."

He rushed towards her, gripping her by her shoulders. "NO! You don't understand, Molly. I get it now! I get that… connection everyone's always talking about. That feeling that John won't shut up about. That…" He looked at her, his eyes raking down her mostly exposed body and immediately reigniting desire that had been sated less than an hour before. "God, I want you again."

He wasn't lying; his erection confirmed it.

"Sherlock," she said softly. "I should have warned you. You can't approach sex like it's clinical research. It's emotional, even for men. Well, most of the time." That wasn't exactly true in her experience. However, some men could be very emotional, even when they paid for sex. Some even just sat and talked to her. For them, she was a very highly paid therapist.

"Yes, I see that now, see my mistake." He shook his head. "I very rarely make them, so I couldn't have anticipated this…"

Molly laughed as he released her. He was once again deep in thought, so she continued her hunt for clothing. As she bent to retrieve her skirt from the chair next to the bed, she felt something familiar and hard rubbing against her arse.

"It's not quite morning yet," he said, his voice was like silk as he gripped her hips.

She really should have protested; she had fulfilled all the requirements… however, when she straightened and he slipped his hand into the front of her pants, displaying some of his new-found skills, she simply couldn't resist.

"You wanted to see me, Irene?" Molly said as she walked into her boss's office.

"Yes, dear. Kate's bringing us tea." Irene stood and motioned to the settee. "Over here, it'll be more comfortable. I have a feeling this is going to be a long conversation."

Molly knew exactly why she'd been called in this afternoon and it wasn't good. "It doesn't have to be a long conversation. I know I shouldn't have given him my real name, but really, he guessed it. I know that sounds crazy…"

"I don't care about that." She waved her hand dismissively, then gave Molly an intense stare and said, "What did you do to Sherlock Holmes?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I believe you might have broken the man."

"What are you talking about, Irene?"

"He tried to…" Irene cocked her head to the side and looked away thoughtfully. "Well, I think he tried to buy you off of me."

"WHAT?!" She started to stand, but Irene immediately took her hand.

"Calm down," the woman said with an amused grin. "Or I'll give you a damn sedative."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No. You know I'm not above drugging you…"

"I mean about Sherlock."

"I have to tell you, Molly, I don't think I've ever heard a man sound quite so desperate in my entire career. Keep in mind that I tie up and flog politicians on a regular basis."

Just then Kate rushed in, carrying a tea tray. "You didn't start without me, did you?" she said as she sat the tray on the coffee table. After pouring each of them a cup, she sat back and grinned. "Okay. Go!"

Both women looked at Molly with expectant eyes; it made her very uncomfortable. "We had sex."

The women continued to stare.

"Okay, we had quite a lot of sex," Molly tried, knowing it wouldn't be enough.

Irene laughed. "Dearheart, the man thinks he's in love with you."

Molly groaned and rubbed her temple. "He said that?"

"Well, no, not exactly. But I read between the lines."

Kate spoke up. "I don't understand; what's the problem? He's gorgeous, smart, wealthy, famous..."

"Famous?" Molly said. "What are you talking about?"

"Our Molly isn't interested in being kept, Kate," Irene said to her assistant before turning her attention back to Molly. "Far too independent for that, aren't you, love?"

Kate shook her head. "Molly, how do you not know who you serviced last night? He's been in the papers for the last two years!"

"I'm in school full time and I work two part-time jobs. I really don't have time for leisure reading, Katie!"

"And then there's your cat," Kate added snidely.

"Don't bring Toby into this! He's an innocent. He knows nothing of my… evening activities."

"Would you two stop it!" Irene said to her employees. "If you want to fight, I'll put you in Room Seven and gladly watch you go at it, but for now I want to know what happened last night."

"It was first time thrill, that's all," Molly explained casually. Though she wasn't sure if she actually believed it. It was pretty spectacular.

Kate gasped. "He was a virgin?!"

"I thought I told you," Irene said before taking a sip of tea. "Yes, young Mr. Holmes had never experienced the act of lovemaking before our Molly took him on a trip around the world last night." She giggled; so did Kate.

"Are you two quite finished?"

"Not even close," Irene deadpanned. "He tried to give me his Black American Express to reserve ALL of your future engagements, Molly. Let's face it, love, you turned that boy out!"

Molly buried her face in her hands. "What a mess!"

Irene looked at Kate, then put a reassuring hand on Molly's back. "What happened?"

Looking up, and feeling a bit miserable, Molly started to explain, "After he told me he was a virgin, I decided to make the experience… special. He said he planned to never do it again and…"

A loud snort came from Kate's general vicinity. "I see you changed his mind."

Irene cut her assistant a scathing look then turned back to Molly. "I'm going to insist on details, love."

"Where do I start?"

"The beginning is always a good place," Irene said pointedly.

"Okay…But…"

"You're actually killing us, Molly!" Kate whined.

The woman sighed, then began her story...

"You're a what?" Molly asked, not really believing her ears. She hadn't even removed her coat yet when her client had dropped his bombshell.

The beautiful man huffed and rolled his eyes. "She promised me that you were intelligent."

"I'm sorry, it's just…"

"Is it really that hard to believe that I've had better things to do with my time than pointlessly spreading my genetic material?" he said, taking a seat.

Unbuttoning her coat, Molly processed that sentence. Irene hadn't told her much about this 'William', just that he was incredibly smart and a 'bit' inexperienced. Well, that's an understatement. Sitting down on the settee, she turned to him. "You understand that I don't have a problem with it, I was simply... taken aback."

"You better not have a problem, considering what I'm paying for your services, Miss…" He made an odd face. She couldn't decide if he was confused or disgusted. "I'm not calling you Isabella. That's not even close." Narrowing his eyes, he studied her.

Is he trying to guess my name? she wondered. Great… he's insane! I have to have sex with an insane virgin tonight.

"You're Catholic. Middle class. One of your parents is Irish."

She somehow managed to hold in her gasp.

"Mary? No. Beth?" He shook his head. "Collene? No, not Collene, but definitely something... common."

"You aren't going to guess it," she said, trying to ignore his insult.

"No- no. I can get this." He sat forward. "Halle...Holly… Millicent or Milly... " Standing suddenly, he shouted, "Molly! Your name is Molly!"

Gobsmacked, Molly stared at the strange (possibly telepathic) man and completely forgot her number one rule. "How in fuck's name did you do that?"

"I'm right? I knew it!" He paced to the mini fridge and got out a couple bottles of water. Walking back and handing one to her, he said, "That was quite fun." with a cocky grin.

Shaking off the name faux pas, Molly put the water on the coffee table and stood. "Listen, let's get back to business, shall we? What would you like me to do, William?"

"Call me, Sherlock."

Weird. But she'd once been asked to call a millionaire real estate developer Captain Hook, so... "Okay, whatever you like."

"No, that's my real name. Well, William is too, actually, it's my first name, but I go by Sherlock."

"Fine." She was starting to get a headache. "What is it that you want, Sherlock?"

"Everything."

"Everything?"

"Indeed. I don't plan on doing this again, so I'd like the full experience."

"You don't plan on…"

"Engaging in sexual congress. No. Not after this. Unless I absolutely have to, that is."

Molly sat down once again, trying to process the information he'd just given her and opened her water. She needed to compose herself, this guy was already turning out to be a challenge. Normally, Molly liked a challenge, but this? This was something altogether new.

Taking a drink, she considered everything he had said. After a couple of moments, she looked up at him. "You know there's nothing wrong with not wanting to have sex, right?" If this guy was some kind of genius, surely he knew about asexuality? "You don't have to have sex to be normal, Sherlock."

He rolled his eyes again as he sat next to her on the settee. "I'm not asexual, Molly. I choose not to waste my time with the pursuit of a sexual partner because it's pointless. I have no desire to procreate, which is the point of pairing off and mating, is it not? My attitude towards sex has nothing to do with sexual desire. I have a healthy and, quite imaginative, repertoire of fantasies and I use them to masturbate on a regular basis." He shrugged. "I simply have no need to spread my seed and produce any progeny. So why waste valuable time, which could be spent in intellectual pursuits, attempting to locate that elusive one person with whom I might share some rare connection?"

His argument made some sense, to a point…

"What about homosexuality?"

"I'm not gay. I have watched gay pornography, to test the waters, so to speak. It didn't really interest me. Though some of the positions were inventive, I'll give them that. In this one video…"

"NO! I mean, your theory. If the only reason we're on the planet is to procreate, isn't that discounting homosexuality as a whole? Not to mention a bit insulting." She was suddenly invested in his theory.

"Not really. We've overpopulated the Earth. Evolutionarily speaking, it is advantageous to our species to slow down reproduction, don't you think? Not to mention, gay couples can reproduce, quite easily as a matter of fact. You're a medical student, Molly. Don't be obtuse."

"Irene told you…"

"No, of course she didn't. She's a professional and would never disclose personal information about her employees. It's quite obvious if you know what to look for."

Once again disturbed by his ability to read her so easily, she tried to get her mind back on track. She never let her clients know anything personal about her and his discovery of her education was disconcerting. "Okay, fine. Can I ask you a question, then?"

"If you must."

"Why now? If you usually take care of your own needs, why do you suddenly want the experience?"

"Masturbation is maintenance. Ejaculation? That's biology; like eating or breathing. My body produces semen and requires release. I can take care of that easily enough. But I am twenty-eight years old and I feel like I should at least know what it feels like to be inside of another person one time in my life. I also will possibly need this information at some point in the future in my chosen career."

"Which is..?"

"Consulting detective."

"That's… not a thing."

"It is now." He stood once again. "Now, I was hoping we could start with fellatio, if you don't mind, as I understand it can prolong the act of penetrative sex and I'd like to get my money's worth."

"Oh my God," Kate said, staring off into the distance. "He's weirder than you said, Irene."

"We don't judge, darling. Just mete out pleasure and pain according to the client's needs," Irene said patronizingly.

"Anyway. He basically asked for... everything and he'd paid for the whole night, so… I gave it to him."

"You certainly did," Kate said under her breath.

Irene turned to her assistant and said, "If you can't behave I will tie you to that chair, bring Molly my favourite crop and let her teach you some manners. Or worse, I won't let you stay for the rest of the story." Kate seemed more frightened at the prospect of missing the end of the tale than the cropping, though that didn't surprise Molly. Nor did it surprise her when Irene steered the conversation back on track by saying, "If you think that's all you're giving us, you're kidding yourself, Molly," Irene said. "Get to the sex!"

"What happened next?" Kate asked, sounding like a giddy teenager.

"What do you think happened? I went down on him!" Molly snapped.

"Molly…"

"I'm sorry, Irene, but you haven't asked for a play-by-play since my first client."

"I know, dear. I'm just trying to figure out the exact moment when Mr. Holmes lost his brilliant mind." Though she sounded as if she actually cared, the conspiratorial grin contradicted her tone.

Molly decided that she was going to have to take control of the evening. The man was clearly used to being in charge and, in this case, she was the expert.

"Have a seat, Sherlock," she said, dropping her voice a bit lower. "Relax."

He sat back down onto the settee but Molly didn't move toward him immediately. First, she kicked off her heels and untucked her silk blouse. "So, just how much of a virgin are you?"

He looked at her questioningly.

She was going to have to be explicit. Good thing she had no problem with that. "Have you ever had a blowjob before? Or a hand-job?"

"Oh. No. Never."

She quietly marveled at his self-restraint as she took another drink of water before slowly dropping to her knees.

"Wouldn't the bed be more comfortable… for you?" he asked.

With a quick smile in his direction, she started removing his shoes. "Maybe. But I'd want to do it like this. We'll take things in there later." Damn, Louis Vuitton. Not that she was surprised, the hotel suite must have set him back several hundred pounds. Besides, she was quite used to wealthy men and their excesses; they usually didn't come with such a beautiful face and intriguing personality, however.

Once she had his shoes and socks off, she sat up, easing his knees apart. He looked a bit nervous and she admitted to herself that it was completely adorable. Needs an occupation, she thought. "Unbutton your shirt for me?"

Once he started to work on his skin-tight oxford (how were the buttons not popping off?), he visibly relaxed, but only a little. This guy lives inside that massive brain of his. She had to pull him out.

Releasing the catch on the placket of his tailored trousers, Molly kept her eyes on his face. He was still focused on his shirt as she slowly started tugging down his zip. The sound made him move his eyes from his appointed task to her face. She smirked. He looked so innocent- so sweet. It was a strange thing to see in a man his age, especially after their conversation about masturbation and biology and evolution. Though there was an element of fear in his eyes, the overwhelming expression was wonder.

I've almost got you, don't I? Now, to completely free him from his overused mind. "Rise up for me, love," Molly instructed and he complied, his eyes still trained on hers.

Pulling his trousers off and tossing them to the side, she slid her hands up his muscular thighs. That's when she noticed just how tented his pants were and mentally thanked Irene for choosing her for this 'date'. Those trousers must have been killing him! Virgin or not, Molly was going to do her best to enjoy herself. She'd certainly suffered enough evenings with unattractive politicians and businessmen whose only 'large assets' were kept safety in their bank vaults, to appreciate a lovely, albeit peculiar, virgin at her disposal.

At first she had thought him skinny, but now with his shirt opened and those designer slacks discarded, she could see just how wrong she was. He had the body of a runner, but 'skinny' was not the right word. Lithe, finely muscled, toned, were better descriptors, but really the most appropriate way to describe him was: incredibly fucking hot!

Keeping her assessment to herself (she could tell that he had quite a high opinion of himself already), she ran a finger along the inside of his silk boxers and returned her attention to his face. Is he breathing? "Relax for me, okay?" He nodded and, thankfully, drew a sharp breath.

Satisfied that he wouldn't lose consciousness any time soon, she got back to her job. "I'm going to touch you now, Sherlock," she softly said as she reached inside his pants…

"What the fuck, Molly!?" Kate practically shouted when Molly stopped her story before describing the oral sex.

She shot the redhead a glare. "That's enough of that part of the evening. I'm not here to feed your fantasies! What's your deal today?!"

"I don't know… it's just…" She squirmed, her cheeks actually turning a bit pink. "That was getting hot, okay!"

Irene laughed at Kate's distress then looked at Molly. "All right, dear. So, I assume it didn't take long to get him off."

"No. That was the quickest blow-job I've ever given," Molly explained. "Then…"

Both women leaned forward. Oh God! This was turning into some sort of erotic story-time.

Sherlock didn't speak again until she gently pushed him onto the bed and started to remove her clothes. He had been surprisingly quiet as he climaxed in her mouth. Grunting and growling rather than actually forming words.

"That… that was…"

"Yes?" she said as she stepped out of her skirt.

"Um… not what I expected."

She smiled as she unbuttoned her shirt. "Since you've suddenly misplaced your loquaciousness, I'll take that as a compliment."

He was staring at her, seemingly a bit in awe. "Yes, do," he finally managed as she removed her bra.

The giggle that escaped was unavoidable. "Move back on the bed, Sherlock. Get comfortable."

It took him a couple of minutes to comply this time, dumbstruck as he was, but he finally moved to the centre of the bed, his back resting on the headboard. "What now?" he asked, his eyes never leaving her now naked body.

She crawled onto the bed and situated herself next to him. "Whatever you like," she said, gently laying her hand on his chest. He was nearly hairless down to the lovely trail of surprisingly ginger hair that led to the thicker thatch of curls that cradled his cock.

He looked across the room contemplatively. "There was a moment, or several, or… perhaps it was one long…" Bringing his hands together in a position of prayer, he tucked them just under his chin. "I… my mind stopped. It never stops," he said.

Molly could actually relate to his statement. Her mind, whilst working in the lab, for instance, raced; it simply wouldn't rest until she found a solution to whatever puzzle was in front of her. But during sex - good sex, that is - she could shut her mind off and just let her body take over.

"Sex is good for that," she said, not wanting to disclose anything more personal about herself than he had already figured out.

"Indeed," he said absently. "I expected the satisfaction of orgasm- of release, but there was… something else."

"What was it?"

Turning towards her, he licked his lips, his eyes searching hers, "I want to learn."

"And what exactly would you like to learn?"

"How to please you," he said huskily.

"Lucky fucking bitch!" Kate said, putting a halt to Molly's tale.

"Kathryne!" Irene scolded.

"I'm sorry, but come on?!" Kate stood. "It's like she was given a sexy mound of virgin clay!"

"Sit down! You might just be enjoying this a bit too much," Irene snapped. "We're here to find out what caused the Great Detective's mind to short circuit, not berate poor Molly."

"Thank you, Irene," Molly said, though she was still looking at Kate. "Why are you so invested, anyway? You…" Well, she wasn't about to call her co-worker and sort of friend heartless, but…

"I don't know. It's not his celebrity, I've slept with plenty of famous clients," she said as she sat. "But he just seems so… buttoned up, so…"

"I know what it is," Irene interjected. "There's a thrill about breaking through a wall."

"Was his brother like this?"

"His brother?" Molly asked. "You know his brother?"

"She knows what he likes," Kate said with a giggle.

"Trust me, girls, he was worse than Sherlock. I remember the first time I managed it with Mycroft. Though in fairness it took more than a bit of head to get him there." The fond smile on her face told Molly that Sherlock's brother had a special place in her boss's appointment book.

"We'll find you a nice repressed genius as soon as this escapade is over, dear," she said, patting Kate's knee. "Now, Molly, he wanted to be taught."

"Okay, but I thought you were never going to attempt this sort of thing again. What use is the knowledge?" she asked as she rolled onto her back, getting into a comfortable position.

Sherlock rose up above her, resting his weight on one arm. "Knowledge is always useful, Molly," he explained simply. "Besides, I'd like to return the favour."

"That might be a bit advanced for a novice."

"I'm a quick study. Tell me what you like."

"Just touch me, Sherlock."

"But where? What brings you the most pleasure?"

Well, this is new. Men usually didn't care all that much about her pleasure, far too focused on their own. And they were generally the ones issuing the orders. Irene had other girls (and herself) for the men who wanted to be used and abused. Molly was a bit more passive in her role. It was fine, for the most part, if a bit unsatisfying at times. But learning the ins and outs of dominating clients would have required a great deal of time.

That was something that she simply did not have. Besides working for Irene and attending medical school, Molly also worked as a tutor three days a week. Irene sent her clients that she knew would be more inclined toward Molly's style of seduction. The madame knew how to read people; it was one of her many talents.

"Start with my breasts. Gently. Just get to know them," she instructed.

Slowly, he placed his left hand on her right breast, cupping it as if he were testing it. She moaned instantly. The blowjob had left her wet and a bit achy. It didn't always happen with clients; occasionally, but not often. But she was clearly reacting more to this man that most of her normal customers.

Without instruction, Sherlock rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing her to arch upwards. His fingers were long, slender and slightly calloused from some kind of repetitious movement.

"Good?" he asked.

Molly nodded, but pulled his hand up to study it. She simply had to confirm her suspicion. "You play the violin?"

"How..?" He swallowed audibly. "Remarkable," he whispered.

With a smirk, she said, "Not really, if you know what to look for."

"I want to kiss you, is that allowed?" he asked in a slightly desperate voice.

"This isn't Pretty Woman, Sherlock."

"What?"

"The American film. I assume you've…"

"I don't watch films. May I kiss you, Molly?"

"Of course," she answered.

"It's starting to become more clear," Irene said as she poured her second cup of tea.

"What is?" Molly asked.

"I'll let you know once I have more data. How was the kiss?"

Molly sighed as she remembered. "He may have been a virgin, but those lips weren't."

"What does swooning feel like? I think I'm about to swoon," Kate said, a dreamy look on her face.

"My God, girls. It was…" She puffed out a breath. "I'll just say it...It was the best kiss of my life."

"Yep, swooning."

"And did you instruct him, dear?" Irene asked.

"I did. But at some point, he just sort of… figured it all out." She slowly shook her head.

"When did you two start talking again?" her boss asked her.

"How do you know…"

"Because I know the Holmes' mindset. He fell for you, Molly, not the sex. He's a bloody genius, for God's sake, and is well aware that if he wanted to just have sex again, he could get that from anyone. Something else happened, didn't it?"

"It was after the second time." She sat back, wrapping her arms around herself. "I should have left- I did try - but... "

"Go on," Irene encouraged.

"He was holding me afterwards. It was so… intimate, so different."

Molly felt him tracing patterns on her bare stomach. At first, she thought it was random, then she recognised letters. After about ten minutes, she realised what he was doing.

"That's cheating, you know," she said with a smile.

"What is?"

"Using iodine. Just because it looks like a lowercase 'l', doesn't mean it is. You're spelling my name wrong." He had been tracing the abbreviations of molybdenum, iodine and yttrium to spell out her name on her belly. Silly, genius.

Quickly, he flipped her over. "You're fucking perfect," he said before crashing his lips to hers. This kiss was different. Though he had kissed her skillfully whilst they had had sex, this felt desperate and possessive.

Molly was powerless to resist him. Her hands came up, fingers tangling in his hair. Suddenly his mouth left hers, only to trail hot kisses across her jaw to her neck.

"I want you for the whole weekend. The whole week, if I can," he whispered in her ear.

For a split second, that thought sounded lovely, spectacular, actually. But then the warning bells started to go off. This man was gorgeous and brilliant and she'd just taught him exactly how to make love to her, and only her. Getting attached could be devastating.

"Sherlock," she said, lightly pushing against his shoulders. "We… I have to go."

"Never," he mumbled into her throat.

"Yes, actually I…"

"Molly," he growled as he leant up, capturing her lips once again.

Giving into the kiss at first, she dug her nails into his back until she realised what she was doing. She had to get out of there before she agreed to spend the weekend (or month) in that hotel room with him! She tried to push him away a second time. When he resisted, she used a technique that Irene had taught her the first week of her employment. After allowing the kiss to continue for a few more seconds (not really a hardship), she hooked her right leg around his hip. He clearly thought he'd convinced her to stay and relaxed his hold because when she levered herself up and flipped their positions, he looked gobsmacked.

"I have to go, Sherlock!" she said forcefully before getting up and hurrying after her clothes.

He sat there, stunned for several seconds before moving to stand. "I'm sorry. I… that was unforgivable," he stammered.

"What?" she asked.

He grabbed his pants and slipped them on. "I forced myself on you. It was…"

"Sherlock… You didn't. Not really. And for the record, I was tempted to stay." She walked up to him, kissed his cheek and said, "I'm going to freshen up. Get dressed and we'll talk before I leave." Then she turned and went to the bathroom.

After a very brief shower, Molly gave herself a few minutes to think about what she would say to the man before re-entering the bedroom. When she did, he wasn't there. Half of her hoped that he had just skived off. The other half wanted to say a proper goodbye.

She found him in the adjacent sitting room, sipping on tea and looking only slightly less put together than the night before.

"I wasn't sure how you took your tea," he said rather awkwardly.

"I'm fine. I should be going, actually." Sitting down next to him, she said, "I really enjoyed myself, Sherlock."

"As did I."

She nodded and took his hand. "You are… a remarkable person, but I have a feeling that you know that already."

That's when she saw it- saw him. Suddenly his cocky intellect couldn't disguise the vulnerability anymore. Though she had seen a similar look in his eyes several other times over the course of their evening, she now recognised it for what it was and damnit… she fell a little deeper at that moment. I'm in so much trouble.

Releasing his hand, she stood. "Take care of yourself and, ahh… bye."

She was almost to the door when she felt his hand on her arm. "Molly?" She turned, unable to speak. "One more kiss?"

No! Bad idea, stupid! her brain shouted, but she nodded as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to hers. He never deepened the kiss- never pushed his tongue into her mouth. It was sweet and chaste.

It was perfect.

He pulled away he looked sad for a brief moment, before straightening and saying, "Until we meet again, Molly, the med student."

She was still at a loss for words. So in lieu of speaking, she cupped his face, brushing her thumb along the sharp line of his cheekbone, smiled, then left.

"Holy crap! Do you know how many people would pay to watch this romcom?" Kate said. "I'm thinking Matthew Goode as Sherlock and… Oh, who's that short actress with the cute nose?" she asked Irene.

"Amy Adams?"

"No, the other one."

"Isia Fisher?"

"No! The other one."

"I have no idea! There are hundreds of short actresses with cute noses! And Goode's cheekbones would never do. Maybe Matt Smith, but he lacks the proper eyebrows. Or any eyebrows, actually," Irene said, then got an angry look on her face. "You're distracting us!" She took Molly's hand. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. Really."

"I don't know that I believe you." Molly shrugged. "Listen, Sherlock is basically harmless. He's an odd bird; a genius and awkward as fuck, but it's sort of sweet that he's fallen so hard so fast."

"Irene…"

"After hearing the whole story, I'm starting to see a method to his madness. It's no wonder that he wanted to fill your dance card."

"You're not suggesting…"

"Of course not! I'm not selling you to him," she said with a laugh. "But this isn't a career choice for you, love. This is a means to an end and that end is drawing near. You'll be a doctor soon. Unless you intend to keep 'dating' rich arseholes after you become a full-fledged pathologist?"

Molly shook her head.

"Didn't think so. I actually think you should give it a shot. You two have a lot in common."

"Ahh, no one's asked the important question," Kate added causing the other women to turn to her. "How was the sex?!"

"You just want more details." Irene laughed as she picked up her teacup. "Besides, the answer is fairly obvious," she said with a wink.

"Really? That good?"

"I'm not exaggerating, girls. If that's how he performs on his first try…" She shook her head. "And let's not talk about his second."

Just then the doorbell rang.

Kate stood. "My work is never done," she said as she left the room.

With a lascivious smirk Irene said to Molly, "Wouldn't you like to be there as he hones his skills?"

"He was rather interesting…" And adorable and intelligent and generous and...

"Why can't you just admit that you've gone slightly loopy for the man?"

"Because that would be idiotic and one of the first things you told me NOT to do."

"You'll be a doctor in, what, six weeks?" Irene asked.

Molly sighed. "Just about. But that's no guarantee that I'll find a job immediately." Standing, she shook herself. "This is stupid, Irene. People don't start relationships like this!"

Irene got up and stood in front of her. "Why not? Who says they can't? I don't know what'll happen, Molly, but neither do you. I do have a feeling about the two of you, though. Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic," she said with more than a hint of sarcasm. "Also, as of this minute, I am terminating your employment. I'll cut you a severance cheque before you leave today. Don't worry, you won't go hungry as you wait to be snatched up by one of the best hospitals in London." She turned to exit the room.

As she opened the door, Sherlock was standing in the hall, looking all the world like a lost little boy. "Well, what a surprise!" she said with no sincerity whatsoever. "Look, Molly, Mr. Holmes is here. I'll just leave you to it then." Then she practically swaggered from the room.

Oh, that woman! Not giving herself enough time to overthink it, she picked up her handbag as she approached the doorway and the man standing just outside it. "It seems that I'm out of a job."

"I got you fired?" he asked, his face slightly contorted in disbelief.

"No, not really. It's a long story and, to be honest, you already know most of it."

"Is there any way I could get you to tell me the rest?"

"Take me to dinner and we'll see."

He held out his arm to her gallantly. Molly had to force herself not to roll her eyes. Instead, she put her hand in the crook of his arm and let him lead her towards the front entrance.

Kate was waiting for them, of course, and she had a stupid grin on her gorgeous face. Molly tried to glare but failed miserably. "Kathryne," she said with a nod.

"You kids have fun." She opened the door.

While Sherlock hailed a cab, Molly wondered what ridiculously posh restaurant he'd try to impress her with. She really wasn't dressed for it in her jeans and jumper. Not to mention she was half starved having only eaten an apple and toast for lunch and wasn't really looking forward to some stuffy, expensive place making her conscious about ordering two of everything.

A cab appeared as if by magic moments later. As he opened the door he said, "Fancy some chips? I know a good place and the owner gives me extra portions."

Her mouth nearly watered at the thought of salty chips and she wondered if they had decent mushy peas. "Why does he do that?" she asked as she sat.

Sherlock followed, a conspiratorial grin on his lips. "I see you don't read John's blog. Doesn't matter, I tell it better anyway. It all started with his cheating business partner, a Latvian lion trainer and a set of faulty shelves…"

Okay! Let me know how I did with hooker!Molly! I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading. ~Lil~