15 months later

Sherlock was flustered. Mary had convinced him to get a few things for Lilah, and by a few things, 221 B was now covered in toddler toys and a playpen. "Lilah Watson that is not a toy," Sherlock scolded as he took his violin away from the blonde toddler sitting on the floor. In 6 months, so much had changed in Sherlock's life. "C'mere you," Sherlock said as he scooped the baby up and placed her in the carrier that John had bought for him. He liked being close to Lilah, especially when it was just the two of them. He had offered to babysit while John and Mary were at work. He chuckled as he thought about the time he brought Lilah to a murder. Lestrade had reprimanded him and confiscated Lilah from him, who then spit up all over Lestrade.

Molly was busy at work. With Sherlock back on the streets, the body count was thankfully lower, but that didn't keep her from having her usual natural causes autopsies. She had just finished writing a report out for an elderly woman when the morgue doors opened and Sherlock came sauntering in with a sleeping Lilah in her carrier. "Sherlock, hi! What are you doing here," Molly said as she quickly brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face. For about 2 months now, she had been trying to move out of Baker street, but Sherlock wouldn't hear of it. "Hello Molly. I was just coming in to see if you had any fingers for me," he flashed her a genuine smile, not the manipulative one he usually gave her. "Not yet Sherlock. Sorry, but no one has come in who has donated anything to science." He brushed his hand gently against hers before leaving the hospital. At 5:30, John and Mary arrived to pick up a very happy Lilah. "She is always so happy after she sees you Sherlock, thank you," Mary said as she gathered up Lilah's favorite blanket. "Always a pleasure Mary," Sherlock said as he hugged Lilah good bye.

That night, while Molly showered, Sherlock busied himself in preparing the flat. By the time she entered the main sitting room, the lights had dimmed and soft music was playing. She gasped and stared at Sherlock. "Before you say anything, this was all John's idea. I find it quite ridiculous, but he said women like this sort of thing," Sherlock gave Molly an eye roll as she nodded in agreement. For the past 15 months, Sherlock and Molly had been nothing more than flatmates. There was no more sleeping in the same bed, and neither flirted with the other. They didn't necessarily flirt with anyone else, but they built their friendship as best they could. Since Lilah had come into the picture, Molly found herself falling in love with an entirely different part of Sherlock she hadn't known existed. Lilah had also opened Sherlock's eyes to a different part of himself. He now realized that Mycroft was wrong and that sentiment was not bad exactly, but it wasn't something he wanted either.

"Molly, sit please," he gestured to the sofa. Molly carefully sat down, she knew how much he hated it when she dripped water from her hair onto it. Sherlock flopped down next to and stared at her. "Molly Hooper, I wish to pursue a relationship with you. I know that I am a fool at times, and you and John set me straight. You always mattered Molly. Moriarty didn't see that," Sherlock stated without looking up. Molly was quiet for a moment before whispering, "We can try Sherlock, but I don't know how well you will hold up in a relationship sense." Sherlock nodded before hesitantly grabbing Molly's hand, "Please help me try." Molly laid her head on his shoulder, "I will."

The next morning, Molly gently knocked on Sherlock's door, "Sherlock? You in there?" She slowly opened the door his room and saw his sleeping form curled up in the middle of his bed. Sighing she got into bed with him, but was careful not to touch him. "Four patch problem," she muttered when she saw the nicotine patches on his arm. It wasn't long before she had dozed back off next to the great Sherlock Holmes.

When Sherlock awoke, he stretched out and was surprised to come in contact with human skin. He quickly rolled over and was about to grab the gun from his bedside table when he noticed that the body next to him belonged to Molly. He grumbled quietly as he got out of bed, "Molly. Wake up." Molly began to stir on the bed and yawned, "Morning Sherlock, ready for breakfast?" "It is nearly noon Molly, we are having lunch not breakfast." Molly stuck her tongue out in frustration. She wandered into the kitchen a few minutes later, thinking that Sherlock would be cooking lunch, since he had mentioned it. Instead she found him mixing some chemicals that created an awful stench. Molly gagged and rushed to open all the windows in the flat.

"Sherlock, what are you doing," Molly shouted as she stuck her head out the window to get some fresh air. "I was trying to find a new element, but you have ruined that by adding clean air and removing the toxins. They wouldn't have killed you Molly," Sherlock scolded as he threw down his chemistry instruments. "Damn it." The door slammed as he stomped out of the flat. Molly watched from the window as he hailed a cab and drove off. Sighing she turned off the Bunsen Burner and opened the refrigerator. "Cold sandwich it is," she mumbled as she dug through Sherlock's mess of food. Her hands were shaking as she prepared her meal, it was going to be difficult trying to date Sherlock Holmes, and she wasn't sure if she was up for the challenge.

A few hours passed and Sherlock still hadn't come home. She had sent a text to John and Mary asking if maybe he had gone to play with Lilah, but neither of them had seen him. Molly began to grow worried. She should have known better than to interrupt his work, and she mentally scolded herself over and over for it. Suddenly, the door opened and she rushed over to see who was entering Baker Street. Unfortunately, it was only Mycroft. "Mycroft? What are you doing here, Sherlock isn't here." Mycroft merely waved her off, "I am not here to talk to my brother, but more to the woman who appears to have caught my brother's eye." Molly was taken aback, "How could you have possibly known about that?" Mycroft chuckled darkly, "My dear woman, everything my brother does is recorded. Why wouldn't his failure to stay unattached be important to me? Now, tell me how you managed to break him over the last 15 months." Molly was unsure how to answer, so she remained silent. "I don't have all day Ms. Hooper," Mycroft said as he twirled his umbrella. Just as Molly opened her mouth, Sherlock appeared in the doorway. His eyes had dark circles around them and he looked dirty.

"Collapsing back into drugs after only a day of being in a relationship? I am not surprised honestly. You always were weak," Mycroft sneered at his brother. Before anyone had a chance to respond, Molly had crossed the room and begun slapping Sherlock, while continually shouting abuse at him. Sherlock stood unmoving, and when she had stopped he left for his room without saying a word. She rounded on Mycroft, "You need to leave. Now." Without fighting, Mycroft glared at his brother's room before exiting the flat. Frustrated, Molly stormed up the stairs into her own room and slammed the door. She barely made it to her bed before giving over to tears and giant sobs.