Dear everyone, thanks for reading this little fic. I hope this last chapter won't disappoint you. Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favourites. It means a lot to me. Thank you.

As Molly was walking away from Sherlock, some kind of panic began to grow inside him, he wanted to speak to her, to tell her everything but all he was able to do was standing there and staring after her. Billions of questions bubbled up inside his chest making him hard to breathe properly. What to do now? Do I want this? What does she expect from me? Do I want this? Do I want this?

As Sherlock was trying to answer his own questions he hadn't realized that he started to walk towards Baker Street. As he stopped in front of his door and stared at the doorknob not really seeing it, he tried to answer the more important question; to be with Molly or not. When he was thinking about to reject her and suppress his own will for his cold, sane mind's sake he felt his stomach clenching, lungs almost collapsing, nausea rising from inside so strong he had swallow hard and to cling at the small rail next to the steps. So this is how it feels? It was horrible and beautiful and invigorating and overwhelming at the same time.

He had been finally so well with Molly's renewed engagement with that idiot. Why should have he cared? Molly has been a close friend but that was all. At least he had thought until he saw the ring again on her finger one day at Bart's. He stopped for a moment then whirled out from the lab without a word. He knew it was rude but he felt if he stayed a minute longer he would explode. Sherlock had spent days sorting out his thoughts of Molly Hooper, and finally he placed her to a 'distant friends' folder. It was easier and better this way. He was better alone with not too much involvement with others.

A few days later his head got clean, the metallic taste disappeared from his mouth and was able to work properly again, even in the lab, even with Molly. Just like in good old times. He had been well.
Then Molly turned his world upside down again with her quiet question in the night prior. He knew he had to do something immediately to close this case.

...

Molly decided to enjoy the evening and the whole week following at home, on her own. She had taken seven days off because of the now cancelled honeymoon anyway, and she hadn't had any time alone since she got together with Tom. He was kind and loving but sometimes too much, too present, always noisy, always talking. Molly realized this only the previous night, after she broke up with him again and cancelled the wedding. As she was walking home from Tom's place, all she felt was release and freedom instead of sadness and guilt. That was the very moment when she realized that till that day she had been going to make the biggest mistake of her life.

But now Molly was relieved and happily waiting for the only man whom she ever loved actually to show up. As she was standing next to the kitchen counter mixing the ingredients of her favourite fruit pie she was daydreaming about the time when Sherlock would come to her finally. She knew him better to expect some big romantic outburst, but she wanted him to be the initiative one for once. She knew he needed to have the control on this field, to have his own rhythm. So she was waiting, patiently as she was doing many years long. Slowly bitter thoughts mixed into her dreaming. What if he doesn't come, what if he runs away? What if she never sees him again? She immediately knew she couldn't bare weeks or days in this agony, not even twenty-four hours.
A determined knock on her door interrupted her thoughts and she didn't even notice that she practically jumped to open the door and threw it up.

She saw Sherlock standing there smiling a forced smile and grasping a paper box in his hand.
'Cherries.' He said and quickly held out the pack towards Molly.
'Uhm...thanks.' She took it and they stood awkwardly motionless in her door both looking at the box in her hand. 'I love cherries.' She lifted her gaze to look at him but he still kept his eyes down.
'I know.' Sherlock answered and cleared his throat.
'Oh, want to come in?' Molly stepped away to let him in and smiled widely as he passed her to enter the flat. He turned around to find the far end of the coach convenient enough and sat down and looked anywhere but at Molly.
'Don't you want to take off your coat? I mean it's pretty warm in here.'
'What? Oh, yes of course.' Sherlock stood up and got rid of his coat and scarf, threw them on the armchair and sat back still not looking at Molly who was standing next to the door, awkward silence took its place in the room.
'Hmmm...Would you like some tea?' Molly asked trying to look easy.
'Yesss. Thank you.' Sherlock answered a little bit louder then he intended to, followed by a quick glace towards Molly, being happy for gaining few more minutes to think over the things he wanted to say.
Molly rushed to the kitchen but halfway she turned.
'I've made some pie; I can bring some if you like.'
'That would be lovely.' He said, then when Molly turned away he gestured towards himself with questioning annoyed eye rolling. Did I just say lovely? Oh God, I am an idiot.

When Molly returned with a cup and a plate she placed them on the coffee table and sat down on the other end of the sofa.
'Thank you, Molly.' he said and took the cup only to put it down a second later.
He sighed deeply and raising his gaze from the table to Molly he started to speak.
'Molly, I...' he frowned looking at her seeing her big smile. 'Are you finding this situation amusing? Because I've never been more harassed in my life, to be honest.'
'Oh, no, sorry.' Her wide grin dropped. 'I am just happy to have you here.' She gave him a small warm smile. 'Please continue. I'd like to hear what you want to say.'
'You know what I want to say?' He asked surprised. Now it was time for Molly to be uncertain.
'Yes. I think... I know.'
'Oh, thank God! I am so relieved.' He released a sigh he was holding and gave a short nervous smile. 'It's really not my area.'
'Oh, no, no, no. You still have to say something. I need you to tell me something, anything.' Molly sat closer beside him almost close enough to touch her tight to his, with sadness and begging in her deep brown eyes.

'Fine then.' He said quickly and started to squirm in his seat. He cleared his throat. 'Don't you want to taste the cherries?' He gave wry smile opening and offering quickly her the box. Molly frowned but took one red berry and primping she sucked the cherry into her mouth parting it from its haulm. Sherlock watched her with slightly opened mouth and swallowed hard. Molly was unaware of the effect she caused by this simple act and said on a faint voice looking at her feet.
'It tastes good, thank you.'

He knew that changing the subject made the impression that he didn't want to say anything. To the tought of disappointing her again his throat clenched and Sherlock tried to form the perfect words in his mind. He turned towards her, pulling one leg under him, swallowed hard and began.
'I...I was fine without you... all I want to say is...' he stopped to think through his next sentence but when he noticed her mortified expression he suddenly blurted out what came first to his lips. 'I don't want to be... I mean to be without you...When you renewed your engagem...'

But he couldn't continue because he was interrupted by Molly's lips on his own, her arms around his neck. It only took half a second for him to get over the surprise and reciprocate the kiss and wrap his arms around her waist pulling her into a tight embrace. When their lips parted they stayed hugging, their faces buried into the crook of the other's neck inhaling deeply the other's scent but not saying a word. Slowly Sherlock pulled away from Molly just enough proximity to be able to kiss her more passionately. Molly melted into the kiss she had desired for all those long years.

Needless to say the tea got cold; the pie remained untouched that night.

Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it, please let me know.

Till next time, Lanceletta