Sherlock was bored. That was nothing new, he spent most of his time being bored. He had no cases on, John was off catering to Mary's every craving and, worst of all, he had no accesses to the morgue.

He wasn't sure why. Molly hadn't spoken to him since she moved in. Everytime he bumped into her she failed to acknowledge him and when he'd gone to the morgue a couple of days ago she had refused point-blank to let him in. He'd tried all of his usual techniques but they had only seemed to make her even more infuriated. Sherlock considered himself a clever man but he couldn't quite get his head around his pathologists recent behaviour. In the past she had always succumbed to his flirting but now she seemed immune.

Sighing he collapsed in his chair. It was quarter past nine. Molly would be leaving for her night shift soon. Maybe he could 'bump' into her?

Quieting his brain down enough, he listened carefully to the noises coming from the flat below. She was probably throwing her food in a bag and hunting for her keys. Perfect.

He made his way down the stairs, straightening out his suit and finishing his plan as he went before taking his place on the opposite side of Molly's door where he waited.

XXX

Molly was stressed. She'd forgotten to prepare food for work and had had to throw together a quick sandwich before discovering she had lost her keys. It took ten minutes to find them which meant that she would now, definitely be late for work for the third time that week. She was really lucky her boss was so understanding.

And now, to make matters so much worse, she had opened her door to only to walk smack in to Sherlock bloody Holmes, who, despite the fact that she was supposed to be loathing his guts right now, still smelled and felt amazing.

"Ow." She cried as she held her nose. "Sherlock why the hell were you standing outside my door?" She shouted, forgetting her strict -no-talking-to-Sherlock-under-any-circumstances- rule.

Sherlock, for once, looked shocked.

"I was not standing outside your door! I was walking past your door when you walked into me!" He protested.

"I am not stupid Sherlock. I know you were standing outside my door because you were facing me when I walked into you!" She was really losing her temper now but he deserved it.

"Very well Molly. I wanted to talk to you."

"Well as I'm sure you've already bloody well deduced, I am very late and very stressed and now really isn't a good time."

"Please Molly? I won't take very long." He pleaded. He was doing that thing with his eyes again.

"No Sherlock. I have to go." She stated before brushing past him. It took all her resolve to resist him each time but she had done it yet again and for that she was proud.

He pride was short-lived however, because before she could get any further Sherlock grabbed her arm. Not so much that it hurt but enough to stop her from moving any further away.

"Molly wait!" He sighed. "Can I talk to you on the way to work then? I'll pay for a cab, it'll be quicker that way and you won't be late. Please?"

Molly sighed. She did need to get to work and if Sherlock could help her to be on time then she couldn't really refuse.

"Fine. But you're still not allowed in the morgue." Sherlock nodded his head in concession and followed her outside. He quickly flagged down a cab and Molly was surprised when he held the door open for her to get in first. She quickly dismissed the feeling. No doubt it was another attempt to flatter her into submission. She refused to let it work.

The journey didn't take long. There was little traffic that late on a Thursday night. Sherlock broke the silence in the cab.

"Why are you avoiding me Molly?"

She knew it was coming but she still didn't want to talk.

"Because you asked me to move into the flat downstairs and I agreed, as a favour to you. But you refused to let me see the flat before hand, because you knew if I saw it I wouldn't want to move in. It's damp Sherlock. It absolutely stinks and is quite possibly the most grotty flat I have ever lived in! It is partly my fault. I accept that. I shouldn't have agreed to move in without seeing it."

"So that's why you're so angry." Sherlock muttered to himself. It was all coming together for him now. "But why didn't you say anything Molly?"

"I did. You didn't listen. You were too concerned about your thumbs. And then you have the audacity to try and flirt your way back into the morgue. That hurt Sherlock. I thought we were past that stage. After I helped you fake your death and everything." She finished. She had to admit it felt good to finally tell him. He couldn't feign ignorance anymore and had no choice but to accept that he had done something wrong.

Sherlock was silent for a while, his mind churning over everything that Molly had said. Deep down he knew she was right. It was bad of him to get her to move into the flat knowing fully well the state it was in. He had been an idiot. John was right.

"I am sorry Molly. It was wrong of me and I will try to make it right." He said, with all the sincerity he could muster.

Words failed Molly. She had never expected such a sincere apology from him, in fact she had barely expected an apology at all. But there was no denying the man in front of her was sorry, and she didn't know what to think.

"Stop the cab please." Sherlock called out to the driver, thrusting him a wad of notes as he did. "Take her to St. Barts Hospital or wherever else she wants to go. Goodbye Molly."

"Bye!" She called back but he was gone.

She really didn't know what to think.

And then the bomb went off.