Hey guys, I know I'm rubbish at replying to your reviews but I want you to know that I appreciate each and every one and all the support you offer. I love this fandom. Oh, and congratulations to Benedict I see in today's news that he is to be given a CBE by the Queen :). Brilliant!

As always I own nothing, I just wish I did.

Chapter 4

Molly only noticed the text after she'd exited the shower, walking into the bedroom towel drying her hair.

Meet me in the park SH

She frowned, that was a very un-Sherlock-like text.

Why? Molly x

It took seconds for the response to come back.

Reasons. Meet me by the bandstand at 11am SH

Molly texted her agreement and then went to the window, opening the curtains, to check out the weather. Even though it was still early the morning had the promise of being a warm spring day, the first of the year. The sky was blue and dotted with cotton wool clouds.

She spent some not inconsiderable time trying to decide what to wear. She'd become more confident around Sherlock in recent months, probably since the time she'd slapped him for relapsing into drug use but she still found herself wanting to look feminine and attractive to him. He normally saw her in the morgue which was not conducive to sexiness...she sighed. Why on earth was she still bothering to try and 'attract' Sherlock. Her head knew it was never going to happen but her heart still refused to catch up.

In the end she picked out an above the knee dress that she really liked, she'd picked it up cheap in the sales the year before, with ankle boots and a warm cardigan. It might look like a summer's day but Molly knew there would still be a chill in the air at times.

She decided to walk over to Baker St. She hadn't needed to ask Sherlock which park he meant there was one at the bottom of his street which she'd often spent time in. She'd never seen Sherlock there; he wasn't much of an outdoors person which explained his permanently white complexion. It did work well with his hair and eyes though...and there went her heart again making her long for the impossible.

She entered the park and saw him leaning against the steps to the bandstand with some kind of box at his feet. He was staring around him with a slight frown in his face, no doubt irritated by the other folk lured out by the combination of a bank holiday and good weather.

He was dressed in his normal fitted, very fitted, black suit with a white shirt open at the neck. Molly felt her heart skip a beat, her stomach plunging a little. Every time...he did this to her every time, it never got any better.

'Hi Sherlock. Why are we meeting here?'

'Finally, what took you so long? Come on let's find somewhere quieter, away from all these idiots.'

He picked up what she now realised was a hamper and set off across the grass away from the bandstand and the children's play park. Molly glanced at her watch, 11.02 and rolled her eyes before running a little to catch up with him.

'I don't know why on earth Mrs Hudson feels the need to spring clean and 'air the flat'. He tried to make air quotes with one hand. 'Every year she does this to me. The first day of good weather and I'm banished from my own flat for twelve hours. It's even worse today with this bank holiday, everywhere is shut, John's still away.'

He huffed as Molly smiled to herself.

'I know she's going to mess with my experiments. I told her not too...' He stopped dead making Molly almost run into the back of him, 'maybe I should go back and check...'

She caught his hand without thinking about what she was doing and pulled him forwards, 'no you don't. If Mrs Hudson wants one day to purge the dust heap you call your flat then let her. I'll help you with any test she might mess up. Come on. I want to see what's in this picnic basket.'

It was then that she realised that not only was she holding her hand but that he hadn't pulled away from her, instead he was holding her hand right back. His palm warm and large against her own; engulfing her much smaller one.

They eventually found a spot near a lake with some trees behind them that was fairly secluded and together they laid out the blanket that was wedged on the top of the basket. Once done Sherlock kicked off his shoes and lay down.

'So, why on earth are you wearing a dress suit Sherlock. Surely jeans would have been more appropriate?'

'You are assuming Molly that I own a pair, which I most decidedly do not. At least I have a pair for when I'm undercover as a homeless person but I don't think even you would appreciate the stench.'

Molly scrunched up her face, 'even me?'

He rolled his eyes and looked at her, 'don't be obtuse Molly. You work with the dead; you come into contact with all kinds of disgusting and noxious smells.'

In acknowledgement of Molly's comment he did remove his jacket and laid it down neatly by his side. He opened up the top of the hamper and removed some of the files from the previous day. 'I thought we could go through these whilst we're here. No point wasting the day.'

Molly giggled as she looked out at the blue skies and the sunlight rippling off the lake in front of her. Only Sherlock could class such a view as a waste. She shrugged off her cardigan, closed her eyes and leant back on her elbows, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face for the first time in months. She enjoyed winter and Christmas, wrapping up warm, seeing snow and sitting by an open fire, but it had been a long time since she'd felt the sun and she was more than ready to enjoy it.

Sherlock meanwhile was being distracted from his work by the sight of Molly reclining beside him, her face offered up to the sun like a sacrifice, her hair loose and falling down until it pooled on the blanket beneath her.

Her neck was a slim column leading down to her chest and the gentle swell of her breasts. He could see them rise and fall with her breathing and his tongue moved in his mouth as he imagined it rolling around her nipple. He groaned and had to quickly turn it into a cough as Molly looked at him with quick concern, 'are you OK?' He brushed her off so instead she sat upright and started hunting through the hamper for some water for him.

It was with a slightly bemused expression that she pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Sherlock who had now somewhat recovered himself just explained it away with a quick, 'Mrs Hudson,' before he bent his head and pretended to read the file, internally berating himself for his sudden lapse.

'Do you fancy a glass then?' Molly had uncorked the bottle and was pouring herself some. Sherlock just nodded not quite trusting himself to speak. Molly passed the glass over to him, picking up another of the files and they sat in silence as they went through them just pointing out odd details, querying test results.

Sherlock hadn't realised he had been drinking his wine until Molly topped it up for him and by the time he finished that glass he was conscious of a slight impairment in his neural functioning. He thought back to when he had last eaten but it had been over 24 hours, not good when drinking.

Molly was already eating a slice of a pie that she had found in the hamper so Sherlock threw down his current file and opened the lid to see what else there was. He pulled out the pork pie, a box of pasta salad and some scones with little pots of jam and cream. Molly perked up, 'ooh scones, I love those. Do you want to share one?'

Sherlock nodded and sat back watching Molly slice the scones in half before covering them in a generous helping of jam and cream. She found a couple of plastic plates and handed one to Sherlock along with his half of the scone. He took a bite and watched Molly do the same. He smirked at her not noticing that she had a smudge of cream on the end of her nose.

Without thinking he leant forward and wiped it off with the pad of his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and licking it off. Molly squeaked in surprise but he couldn't help but notice how her eyes dilated as she watched him put his thumb to his mouth. He had a sudden urge to repeat the move so when she brought her scone up to her mouth again he purposefully jostled her so cream once again went on her face, 'hey, no fair. You did that on purpose.' She looked at him and he couldn't help but laugh at the angry expression coupled with a smear of cream on her cheek.

'Sorry, couldn't resist. Here, let me help.' Once again he used his thumb to wipe up the cream and deposit it in his mouth.

Molly narrowed her eyes, 'well two can play at that game.' She put her finger into the pot of clotted cream and leant towards Sherlock's face.

He leant away from her as she advance and just at the point that she was leaning over him and about to put the cream on his face he caught her wrist and forced her hand to his mouth. He sucked her finger into his mouth relishing the taste of the cream mixed with her skin whilst at the same time he suddenly realised how compromised they both were. He was lying back on the rug, Molly was straddling one of his legs and leaning over him. He had one arm round her waist holding her too him and the other around her wrist holding her finger in his mouth.

Her eyes were so dilated they were almost black and she had a light blush across her cheeks and her chest, her breathing was becoming as erratic as he realised his was. He felt as though they were on the cusp of something but he didn't know what, all he knew was he didn't want this moment to end so he slid his hand up her back and as he let go of her wrist and her finger he pulled her in for a kiss.

Molly wasn't quite sure either what had happened or how they had reached this position but she was completely unable and unwilling to get out of it. One minute she had been eating her scone and the next she was threatening him with some cream, and now...now they were kissing. She'd seen the look in his eyes change as he grabbed her wrist and used his mouth to suck off the cream. One minute he was playful the next it was pure lust. She had never seen that look on his face before but it was one of the most arousing sights she had ever seen.

She had been stopped in her tracks unsure of how to proceed when he had just pulled her to him and kissed her. Her mouth had opened to him immediately. This was no nervous or fumbling first kiss, this was passionate and needy and she knew she was moaning as the kiss developed but it was as though she had no control over her reactions.

She had wanted this for so long and it was like floodgates opening. She clutched at his shirt as though holding onto a life raft. His tongue was in her mouth fighting with hers, one hand in her hair holding her head in place and the other now on her thigh under the skirt of her dress, his hand warm on her skin, not moving just there.

She felt dizzy, as though she needed to breathe but she didn't want this kiss to end. She was fully aware how out of character this was for Sherlock and she also knew there was a strong possibility he might never do this again and it was too good; he was too good.

Eventually it had to end though as they broke apart both breathing heavily neither really making eye contact with the other.

So finally things are hotting up a little between our favourite couple. Next update will be Sunday so until then have a great weekend.