Molly was finding it difficult to breathe, let alone speak.

"A…About?" she finally managed.

Sherlock straightened up and stepped back, the slip of paper still in his hand.

Molly instantly felt disappointed and relieved that he was no longer in her personal space. But she was also in a state of panic that he still had her list.

"I have a problem I require your assistance with solving," he responded as he slipped her note into his coat pocket.

Resignation rolled over her, and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Of course, this was Sherlock Holmes after all, always in need of something from her.

Why would she think that would ever change?

If only the something he was after was her…

Molly shut her eyes and mentally shook her head. 'Don't go there,' she warned herself. 'Remember, he doesn't see you that way.'

Looking down at her from where he stood, Sherlock read the emotions that crossed her face.

'Oh Molly, if only you knew,' he thought.

Sherlock abruptly turned and made his way to the door. "Do come along Molly. Its important."

Molly let out a resigned sigh and got to her feet.

"I thought you'd decided I couldn't help you solve mysteries anymore," she said as she approached him.

Sherlock stood back, and with the barest tilt of his head indicated that she should go ahead of him.

"Yes, well that was before," he replied as they made their way towards the lift. "But this is a very particular problem."

When they arrived at his flat at Baker's St. Molly was a little surprised that Sherlock didn't immediately go into details of the very important problem.

In fact as soon as they had walked in, their coats etc. hung up and the door to his flat closed, Sherlock became what she could only describe as uncertain. Nervous even.

And that just wasn't Sherlock.

"Sherlock, are you okay?"

Okay was definitely not how Sherlock was feeling at that very moment.

He had absolutely no idea how to proceed. Of course he was pleased, relieved even, when he's read her list. That at least proved that she still held strong feelings for him.

But telling her how he felt…

There was still the possibility she could reject him. She had after all noted down rude, over-bearing and manipulative.

And what did Khan-ish mean anyway?

Molly watched Sherlock closely as he stood motionless in the middle of the room. She knew what it meant. He was searching for possible clues or solutions in his Mind Palace.

Except that something wasn't right.

She walked over to him and looked up into his blue-green eyes.

It was then that she spotted it.

Fear.

Sherlock was afraid of something. And he needed her help.

Very gently she reached up and held his face in her hands.

"It's all right Sherlock," she said softly. "There's no need to be afraid. I'm here."

Sherlock looked down into Molly's soft, warm brown eyes. He reached out and cradled her face as she cradled his. He then leaned down until his forehead rested against hers.

"What do you need?" she asked.

"Not what. Who."

Molly moved her hands to around his neck. Her fingers entwined in his curls.

"Who do you need Sherlock?" she whispered.

"You Molly, always you."

Finis