Chapter 4

'Do you wish to be great? Then begin by being. Do you desire to construct a vast and lofty fabric? Think first about the foundations of humility. The higher your structure is to be, the deeper must be its foundation'
Saint Augustine

The next time Molly sees Sherlock he waltzes right into her lab. Molly was running a tissue sample when the double doors into the lab opened wide. She didn't look up. It had taken a lot of practice but she had finally stopped looking up hoping for it to be the consultant detective. Whoever it was could wait until she'd set down the electronic pipette. "Hello Molly," a familiar voice momentarily broke through her concentration enough for her to reply.

"Hello Sherlock," she replied without a second thought. It was the same greeting she would issue whenever Sherlock made use of his home away from home. Molly did a double take, "Oh!" hastily she set down her equipment and wrestled with the latex gloves, "You're back."

Molly hadn't noticed that John was with him until the ex-army doctor spoke up. He'd watched Molly as soon as he entered wanting to see her response to Sherlock being alive and it wasn't what he expected. "Wait, you knew?"

"John!" she squeaked only now realising his presence, "Oh, I-I'm so sorry John," Molly apologised earnestly, "I couldn't tell you. I wanted to, please, you have to believe me."

Sherlock heard enough of Molly's ramblings, "It was Molly who helped. Didn't I tell you?"

"No you didn't. It's okay Molly," John juggled two conversations at once.

"Hmmm must have slipped my mind, it was a busy day," Sherlock stepped around Molly to peer into the microscope with the tissue sample. The pathologist was still apologising profusely.

John placated her with a hand on her shoulder, "Molly really, it's alright. Sherlock is alive, that's what matters. Is there anything else you neglected to tell me, Sherlock?"

Sherlock's eyes flicked to Molly at lightning speed, for the briefest of seconds Molly prayed that he wouldn't go into detail about everything, "No, that's everything," Molly was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

-x-

Molly went home that night deep in thought. She was on autopilot as she navigated the underground. Everything would go back to as it was before and Molly would still be left with her biggest problem when really she shouldn't have a problem at all. She tried to tell herself over and over again that she was completely over Sherlock Holmes as if that would fix everything like magic but it never did. This time though, things would be different. She would go out on dates, hopefully meet a nice man and maybe marry him. Sherlock could still use the lab, she wouldn't deny him that, but she was done with letting him walk over her and just like that Molly had convinced herself that her biggest problem had been solved.

The pathologist felt marginally better as she closed the door to her flat and set about making some dinner. Her good mood continued as she settled down for a night of television with Toby sleeping contentedly next to her on the sofa. Molly was beginning to get sleepy when the sharp buzz of the intercom for the flat startled her. "Who do you think it is Toby?" the cat yawned and curled up further at the loss of its warm companion.

Molly answered the intercom, "Hello Molly."

"Oh, errrm, hello," She could feel her heart racing because of bloody Sherlock Holmes. What on earth was he doing there? Was John with him, it hadn't sounded like it?

"Are you going to let me in?" Sherlock's voice held a hint of amusement.

Molly spluttered a response and let him in. His soft knock on the door pushed Molly into full force nervous wreck for no other fathomable reason other than he was there late at night which with normal people usually meant one thing. Molly gathered her courage and determination that he was not going to be her biggest problem anymore and answered the door. "Evening Sherlock, what can I do for you?" She could feel his gaze on her as she shut the door. She dragged it out not wanting to look at him for fear that her resolve would crumble.

When Molly finally turned to look at him he held her gaze and spoke, "Molly I never thanked for what you did, not properly."

"It's okay Sherlock, you don't have to," she meant it Sherlock was her friend after all.

"I want to," Sherlock stepped closer. Molly could feel the crumbloing of the walls she'd built but had just enough sanity left to grab hold of the falling stone and push it back into place. This was not going to be the same as last time, as that night. She wasn't going to take something that was being offered by him all because he felt he ought to give it.

"No, Sherlock," she gently pushed him away and took a deep breath.

Sherlock cocked his head slightly and scrutinised every detail about his pathologist. Her pupils had visibly dilated and he would bet any money that her pulse would also give her away, "It's what you want."

"No…Sherlock, I, that, it," Molly broke off and took a steady breath, "No, I don't." She cut herself off before she could say 'not like this'.

"Molly Hooper you are a terrible liar," he didn't step closer which helped to calm Molly.

She was calmed enough to take offence at his comment not that she ever wanted to be a good liar it still felt could to let her frustrations go, "I'm not a terrible liar. I lied for you for three years! Three really long years… I would do it again, of course I would but I can't do this," she gestured with her hands completely ignoring the intense stare from Sherlock. "I mean really Sherlock what were you hoping to for? A quick shag and then off you go gallivanting with John again? Then just pop into the lab and carry on as normal because Molly's had what she wanted."

"Are you finished?" the consultant detective challenged with mirth.

"No," Sherlock raised his eyebrows at her attitude.

"I. Think. You. Are," his voice was a sultry deep baritone that sat thick in the tense atmosphere as he punctuated each of his words knowing the effect they would have on his pathologist. She was in danger of her biggest problem once again becoming her biggest problem.

Molly's protest died on her lips as soon as Sherlock moved closer and was completely forgotten by the time his hands rested gently on the curve of her hips. No, what on earth was she doing? Molly bought her hands up to rest on his chest and gently she pushed him away. "I-it's not going to work this time. I'm done." It felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her chest so she could finally, after nearly seven years, breathe easy again.

"Done?" Sherlock repeated as if trying out the word for the first time.

"Yes," she smiled happy that new Molly (although not that new anymore) finally had full control. "You can still use the lab, I'm not going to stop you but I'm done with pining over you. Now it's late and I've got work in the morning. You should go and spend time with John."

"Right," Sherlock stepped back and smoothed down his suit jacket. If Molly didn't know any better she would say that he was almost hurt but this was Sherlock. "Goodbye Molly," he shut the door behind him.

Molly watched him leave and managed to maintain her composure. Was she crazy? Sherlock Holmes just offered her a night of pure heaven (again) and she'd turned him down. It was self-preservation; Molly was never going to get over her immature crush on the world's only consulting detective if she took what he was offering. With this in mind Molly couldn't help but ponder his response. The look on his face as she dismissed him had rivalled that of the night he'd asked for her help in the lab. It was the only time that Molly had seen him looking so sincere but that couldn't be right. He was manipulating her again. Shoving it from her mind Molly went to bed.

-x-

John was upstairs in bed. He was supposed to be staying at his long-term girlfriends house but upon Sherlock returning his girlfriend, Mary, had understood and was fine with him spending time with Sherlock of course when he'd made those plans John hadn't expected the consultant detective to do a runner. John had popped out to get milk because just like before Sherlock's fake suicide there now seemed to be no milk in the house again. When John returned it was to an empty flat. As the evening passed and Sherlock didn't return John went to bed. The last few days had been emotionally draining and he was knackered. As soon as his head hit the pillow he was out for the count.

"John!" a deep baritone filtered through John's dreams. He stirred slightly but didn't wake. "John!" this time it was louder and accompanied by hasty steps on the stairs. "John!" his bedroom door banged open.

"What? Sherlock?" John scrubbed a hand over his face and squinted against the intrusion of light from the hall. Having adjusted to the light John's eyes followed Sherlock as he paced backwards forwards frantically still in his coat and scarf. "What's wrong?"

"Everything!" Sherlock snapped throwing his hands up.

"Right, okay. Want to talk about it?" John couldn't believe he was giving up on sleep. Had it been Sherlock shooting the wall out of boredom or a clatter as a petri dish hit the tiles in the kitchen in frustration John would have gotten out of bed and shouted at his friend to 'shut the hell up' but something was different. Even before Sherlock disappeared for three years he would never wake John up in the middle of the night like this.

"No. Why would I want to talk about it?" Sherlock replied in response to John's preposterous question.

John shook his head secretly glad that he had Sherlock back even if he did try the patience of a Saint. "You're right. Sorry, I don't know what on earth gave me that impression."

Sherlock stopped his pacing standing completely rigid on the spot, "Sorry for waking you," his statement was mechanical. The consultant detective swept from the room and took slower steps down the stairs leaving John somewhat baffled.

"Wait, Sherlock," John rubbed his temples and sprung from the bed grabbing his thickest jumper from where it was folded neatly on his chair. "I didn't mean, look, just tell me what's wrong."

By now John had caught up with Sherlock at the bottom of the stairs, "Molly."

"Molly? Our Molly, Molly Hooper?" John followed Sherlock into the living room, "Is she alright?"

"What? Oh yes she's perfectly fine," Sherlock flopped onto the sofa face first, his feet hanging off the end and waved off John's concern for the pathologist.

John's brow furrowed in confusion, "Then what's wrong?"

Sherlock turned over to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling, "I went to Molly's to thank her for what she did."

John didn't hide is surprise, "Really?"

"Yes," the consultant detective looked pained over his admittance.

"Sherlock, did you make her cry?" John was trying to figure out what had Sherlock so out of sorts.

"I offered her thanks, like last time and she said no," Sherlock slowly drew his arms up and put his hands together in a prayer position, resting them under his chin. He'd been right in going to John. John would know what to do.

John could feel a lesson in friendship coming on and before he would step into such territory he really needed a cup of tea and the frazzled looking consultant detective could probably do with one as well. "You mean she didn't accept your thanks? Or, Sherlock, you didn't insult her- again- did you? I bet it's because she's a friend. Friends do things without thinking of what they will get in return. Molly is the kind of person that would say 'you don't have to thank me' or 'anytime' maybe a 'don't mention it'."

"Sex, John. I'm talking about sex," Sherlock blurted out in frustration.

There was a moment of stunned silence as John processed Sherlock's revelation. "You've had sex with Molly?" John had been considering making some tea but after this admission a glass of whiskey or maybe some brandy would do the trick. "When?"

"Two days after I jumped from Bart's," Sherlock admitted. John had to think for a moment as he tried to figure out Sherlock's motives behind such an action when he was a master of manipulation. "It's what she's always wanted," Sherlock added, "I saved your lives, I could hunt down Moriarty's web and she got what she always wanted."

John sighed in exasperation, "Tell me you didn't offer her the same thing tonight? God Sherlock, sometimes you are an absolute idiot." Sherlock presented John with a look of outrage, he was anything but an absolute idiot. "I don't think Molly wants just sex."

Sherlock pursed his lips in thought, "Isn't sex the motivator behind most things?"

"We aren't talking about motives for murder here. Molly is an honest and loyal individual. She's never just been after sex. Molly wanted you to love her like she loves you," John was curious as to what his friend would have to say.

Sherlock correct him immediately, "Loved John. Molly is done- her word not mine."

"Molly is a hopeless romantic and you thinking that…" John broke off trying to word it in the easiest way for Sherlock to understand.

"A quick shag," Sherlock provided, "her words again."

Listening to Sherlock rattle of Molly's words gave John a new found respect for the pathologist for standing up to him, "Yes, you thinking that a quick shag was all she was after would hurt. You've managed to steam roller over her feelings once again, well done mate."

"John," Sherlock reprimanded in that tone of his that suggested this topic conversation would soon be over.

"No Sherlock, you need to listen to this. You don't love her so why would you think that your offer was acceptable?" John counted to ten in his head to control his temper.

"I wanted to ask Molly out on a date," Sherlock mused allowed.

"What? Just, no, that is the worst thing you could do," John rubbed sleep from his tired eyes.

Sherlock flicked his gaze over at John; perhaps this could have waited till morning when John's brain would have been more alert for giving useful advice. "I want to ask her out and this is your area of expertise, isn't that what you are always saying?"

John couldn't control his temper any longer and exploded into a tirade, "Sometimes you can be so childish. You only want Molly because she said no. It's like when you were younger and your parents gave away toys you don't play with anymore suddenly all you want to do is keep it for-"

"My parents never gave-" Sherlock interrupted.

"Your violin then," John wasn't going to touch the Holmes family can of worms tonight, "it would be like Mycroft using it."

The smile that spread onto Sherlock's face had John baffled for a moment, "I broke Mycroft's nose for touching it when I was six."

John had to laugh, "Well done," There had been many times when he himself had wanted to punch Mycroft in the face.

"Yes, I thought so too," Sherlock replied, "Now what do I do about Molly?"

"You don't do anything. Apologise to her for being so insensitive, don't ask her out because we both know that you don't really want to," John never thought in a million years that he would be giving advice on this sort of thing to Sherlock but then again he never thought that he would see Sherlock again; stranger things had actually happened.

Sherlock removed his steepled hands from his chin and folded them across his abdomen, "I've always trusted Molly without her help I would not be here."

"You're grateful and that's fine, anyone would be," John tried for the voice of reason, "she was the only contact you had with your life."

"Yes but there's more. When I turned up at her door bruised and bloody she didn't ask questions just patched me up. She took care of me when I had no one else. Tonight wasn't supposed to be a quick shag. Molly counts, John," the ex-army doctor had known Sherlock long enough to be able to identify when he was being honest and this was one of those occasions. "I feel something for her and I can either do this with your help," the word tasted wrong in Sherlock's mouth, "or without it."

"Bloody hell Sherlock," John was not one hundred percent convinced because Sherlock was nothing but a good actor but John was a good friend and he would give his friend the benefit of the doubt especially when he knew what it would take for Sherlock to admit such a thing as 'I feel something for her'.

Big thank you's to Kathmak, Rocking the Redhead and MorbidbyDefault for reviewing. Also, to everyone who's favourited/alerted I really appreciate it :)