Eep, sorry I suck at uploading. My internet connection hates me, and I can't upload from my phone (why isn't there an App for that yet?). Also, you'll have to excuse the length of this chapter; I had to split it in two because, otherwise, you'd have all just been bored.

I also just want to say a quick hello to new readers, it's nice to see you in my inbox! And, if any of you have a Tumblr, there's a whole blog dedicated to Molly/Jim (it's called fuckyeahmolliarty) and it's fantastic! We are not alone! Woohoo!

4.

"I can't believe I'm actually going bowling," Molly laughed as they walked, hand-in-hand, into the arcade. "I've never been bowling before—I'm going to be just awful!"
"There's no way you'll be worse than me," Jim said, smiling at her. "I can't even do it on the Wii, you're going to break your heart laughing at me in here!"

Jim wasn't lying; he'd never been bowling before. Sometimes, on a particularly boring day, himself and Sebastian would play bowling on the Wii, but Sebastian wouldn't even be gracious enough to let Jim win and Jim was the sorest loser if ever there was one. (One time, Sebastian had beaten Jim so badly that Jim shot him in the foot.)
He had to grin and bear it when he was forced to change his shoes. Sure, he was all for different shoes for different occasions but having to wear shoes that God-knows-who had worn before him? Not really his favourite part of the night.

Molly was just as bad as he was, and not just about having to change her shoes. She failed miserably at the game, as did Jim, and most of the time was just spent with the two of them in convulsions over how ridiculously bad they were.

It didn't take long for both parties to realise that their efforts were pointless and they ought to just give up while it was only the two rows beside them that were laughing and not the entire arcade. "One more shot," Jim said, handing her the blue ball. It matched her jeans, and he was a sucker for things that matched. "And then I promise we'll go get pizza." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Make this one count," He said. "For all the times that friend of yours has taken you for granted and hasn't noticed how wonderful you are and hasn't appreciated how beautiful you are."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Jim Moriarty began the escapade of trying to convince himself that it was his character who had said them.
It was funny, in the end, because that was the one time either of them ever got a spare.
Molly jumped around excitedly and Jim enveloped her in a bear hug. "He doesn't know what he's missing, Molly Hooper." Jim mumbled, pulling her closer.

Jim showed off a little bit after that, taking Molly to the most exclusive, not to mention most expensive, place in London city. He knew he shouldn't, really, be flaunting his power like that—after all, he was supposed to be playing a character—but he just couldn't help himself. He wanted to impress Molly, as himself and not as "Jim from IT" and, for the brief few moments that they had together, Sherlock really didn't matter. The Game didn't really matter. Nothing really mattered, except her.

"I haven't had that much fun in a really long time," Molly laughed, as Jim walked her back to her flat that night. "And how you got us a reservation in Scoozies, I don't even..."
"I may not look like much," Jim grinned. "But I've got friends in high places and they owe me." He winked at her and she giggled.
"Well, this is me." She stated almost sadly, as they stopped outside a rather old fashioned looking building. Something told Jim, from just looking at the place and from the area that it was in, that Molly wasn't used to nice things—even though she herself could've been sunshine on a cloudy day, had Jim liked 'The Temptations' and that silly movie. Molly deserved so much more than a little run-down flat and a crush on someone who had probably called her "John" once too many times.
"Speaking of those friends," Jim said, before he could stop himself. "I've got one friend who owes me big time and he's got this amazing apartment overlooking the Thames... He never stays there, though, he's too busy with—with work, and apparently I make really nice chicken pie and I was thinking maybe you might like to have dinner with me there because it's beautiful at night, or something, and I'm making a complete idiot of myself right now, shut up Jim..." He sucked in a breath. It was the second time that night that he had to convince himself that it was his character that cared. That really, to him-to proper James Kevin Moriarty-it didn't matter.
Except that it did matter.
It mattered a lot.
Though, for a genius, he couldn't figure out why.
"So what do you say?" He asked, hopefully.
"A-are you serious?" Molly looked at him, shocked and slightly stunned, her eyes growing increasingly wider as everything he'd said processed with her.
"I'm not a very good liar." He told her. "Honestly."
"You want to cook me dinner in a fancy apartment?" She looked at him wide-eyed, as though she'd never heard something so incredibly ridiculous in all her life.
"Yes." He stated, simply. He looked to her hopefully, against his better instincts. Please say yes, Molly Hooper. Please, please say yes.
"What time?" She asked with a smile.

Hoping to have the next chapter up within the week, provided my internet connection decides to love me just a little bit longer. Thanks again for reading! ~Jenny. :)