Well, I got 1 more review, which I suppose is a start for the story…

Anyway, thanks for the review, it was appreciated and sorry it's taken so long for me to upload the chapter, I haven't had enough time to do all this, but I'm proposing to (from next week) upload it every Thursday. Well, I'll try to :)

Have fun reading, please review.

Chapter 4

"Molly?" A muted knock came from the windows opposite her. Molly jumped from the sound of John's comforting voice and looked up too fast, causing a sharp pain to form in the back of her neck. She winced and looked at John who was slightly smirking, probably trying to hold in his laughter again- he always did that and the response from Molly was constantly the same. Still, rubbing the back of her neck, she walked over to the door, swaying a little bit from the head rush John had already given her.

"Hello John, body parts?" Molly gestured to the drawers. She saw him twitch the sides of his mouth downward into a miniature frown that he thought Molly wouldn't detect. "John? What's wrong?" The sweet humming of her voice soothed him a little bit and he instantly felt guilty about what he was about to say to the charming young lady who was being so kind to him, even though she had every right to break down.

"Well, I was going to…" He thought over his next words for a few moments before changing his plan completely.

"John?" She was pushing him for an answer.

He hesitated, but then spoke up brightly, "Come to dinner with me Molly? It has been a really long time since we really talked properly, you know, after he died…um, anyway, I wondered if you would like to come?" He met her eyes, questioning her with such intensity that it made her look away.

"Like as a date?" She asked, quite puzzled by the concept of John and her being…together. Unexpectedly, John burst out into streams of laughter and it wasn't long before he was clutching his chest and wheezing like a fool. Molly enjoyed this side of John but it caught her by surprise since he was normally so miserable without Sherlock around.

Unsure of what to do, she asked calmly, "John? What's so funny?" All she got as a response was more laughter; annoyingly enough he was obviously enjoying her confusion.

"MOLLY! YOU, YOU MY FRIEND ARE THE FUNNIEST PERSON I HAVE EVER MET!" He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself before continuing, "I was only asking as friends Molly, as gorgeous as you are, I had no intention of a date!" He started laughing uncontrollably again while Molly looked on- embarrassed at her mistake.

"Oh John, sorry, I-I was just surprised you know? John? John seriously it's not that funny." Despite her efforts, John still carried on hysterically. Frustrated, Molly walked back into the room where dead people where being investigated and ignored John's muffled laughter from the extensive glass windows.

"Molly, come back!" He paused, trying to regain his breath, "you never answered my question! So will you come?"

Molly wasn't fooled; she knew how much he was trying not to laugh and proved it by staring at him for 7 seconds before he started gasping for breath again. She was not impressed so returned his pleads with a sharp glare.

"Ah come on Molly, I was only kidding with you! I'm really sorry." John's pleads carried on for another few minutes and it was getting harder and harder for Molly to ignore him. She looked around, desperately, for something to focus on. All these bodies were boring compared to the cases she'd helped Sherlock with so they did absolutely nothing to keep her from listening to John.

"Molly, please?" He begged, "I'll pay for everything!" She smiled at that, knowing that what she was thinking was absolutely cunning, but she hadn't seen John like this since before Sherlock died, so she broke her gaze away from the dead bodies lying still in front of her, looked up and John, grinned and walked towards his slacking body.

"This is great food John, how about we get some more salad, and wine, we should definitely get more wine!" Molly was thoroughly enjoying the night own with John Watson, especially since he was buying for her- which she was sure he was starting to regret saying.

"Do you really have to; I can't take care of a drunk Molly! Who knows what could happen?" She blushed and started giggling, "well," he sighed, "it seems you're already half way there." Her giggle was like a tinkling fairy in his ear, he didn't want it to stop, but soon enough Molly had knocked over the glass of wine and the waiter, dressed smartly in black and crimson, strode over and asked John to escort the girl out of the restaurant. Well, he thought, at least I don't have to pay for anymore luxuries.

He drove Molly back to 221B Baker Street as he didn't know where she lived and settled her down on the sofa that Sherlock used to accommodate so often. He watched intently as Molly fitted herself into the shape of the sofa perfectly, she made little snoring sounds that were too cute to be snores- they were too soft and too sweet.

At 23:00 Molly's phone beeped- 1 new message. John couldn't sleep that night so he heard the beeping. He ignored it until another one came 2 minutes later, who would be texting Molly Hooper at this time of night? He walked over to Molly and sat beside her, he didn't want the phone to disturb her so he looked around where she lay to turn it off. It beeped again. In her jacket, he thought, how was he meant to get there? He placed a hand on Molly's hip and gently turned her over, she was pretty resistant to his touch but eventually he slipped the phone out her front pocket. It kept slipping from under his hands when he tried to figure out how to turn it off but eventually he managed, not realising how life-changing it could be if he had read those texts.

Molly woke up at around 6 am to find John sitting up against the sofa, his head knocked against the side of her legs. Funny man, she thought. She picked up her phone by the desk and turned it back on finding 8 texts waiting for her.

23:36
you're late. I happened to be hungry today.
-S.H

23:38
Where are you? You're the one who told me to eat! Hypocrite.
-S.H

23:47
Molly if you don't answer me then I will come after you!
-S.H

23:50
Actually, I have more important things to do. Still, hurry back.
-S.H

00:12
Molly, what do I do with that insistent beeping that is coming from your cooker?
-S.H

00:14
I think something's burning. What's taking you so long?
-S.H

00:17
you'll be glad to know that I just saved your cat and your flat from burning down. Thanks for helping me.
-S.H

00:24
Molly? Where are you? Answer me! I don't want to do anything unnecessary for a lost cause…
-S.H

Molly frantically picked up all her things (not that she had many) and rushed out the door- what the hell had Sherlock done to nearly burn down her flat? She dialled Sherlock's number anxiously and waited for him to bother picking up. She wasn't surprised when it went to voicemail so left a worried message after the 3 beeps.

"Hi, it's Molly… well; I suppose you already presumed that much. I went to dinner with John last night and I was planning to come back but I got too drunk and he took me back his, I mean, your apartment. We didn't do anything, in case, well, you know… Anyway, I fell asleep so I didn't get your 8 messages until about 5 minutes ago, but if you don't mind me asking… What did you do to nearly set the flat on fire?"

She hung up and relaxed her shoulders; she walked past a Sainsbury's store and gasped at the state of her hair. It was matted, tangled and knotted but she had no time to sort it out, she had to get back to check on everything and feed Toby as she knew that Sherlock wouldn't have done it. She scraped it back into a tight ponytail and stuck her bony arm out for a cab. The first few didn't stop for her but finally one pulled over, she told him where she needed to go and slipped into the side seat. She regularly checked her phone for any new messages from Sherlock, but expected no reply and that was exactly what she got. She looked out of the window impatiently seeing mothers rushing to get last minute shopping and business men calling for cabs anywhere they could, not wanting to be late for work. It was a beautiful time of year for Molly, she adored the fresh smell of leaves and the flawless blue skies, even in the streets of London it was astounding how perfect nature was.

Sherlock listened to Molly's frantic voice stammering on his answer phone and although she sounded like she had a lot to say, one particular thing stuck in his mind…'dinner with John.'
So John was happy enough in life to go out to dinner with a pathologist he hardly talked to in front of Sherlock, he must be fine. He was absolutely fine… Sherlock found himself quickly irritated that John was cheerful enough to go out and socialise again- it had only been a few months since he 'died' and yet he got Molly drunk! Was there something going on between them that he had failed to pick on? No, he laughed at the thought, he didn't miss things like that, and plus, he knew Molly was completely obsessed with him to a near teenage celebrity crush standard, and with her knowing that he was alive she wouldn't just date John. He heard a scattering of footsteps coming up the stairs and turned back to Molly's computer, researching different names and tracking different people. The key turned in the door and a slender figure bustled in wearing the clothes she had worn the day before and her hair pulled back into a rushed ponytail. As soon as she saw him slouching in the desk chair facing the other way, she ran past into the shower.

"Already saw you Molly…" Sherlock called before she jammed the door shut.

"People give you another chance to make a first impression all the time, just let me have one!" She groaned, turning the shower on full blast.

Sherlock smirked, he never got a second impression, people just pretended to like him so he didn't deduce stuff about their countless affairs, debts and other normal, dull, common and predictable activities- of course, he deduce them all anyway. He heard Molly swear in the shower, it didn't take him long to figure out that she'd probably just found the experiment he'd conducted with her body shampoo this morning.

"Language Molly…" He teased, not feeling the slightest bit guilty of his 'mishap'.

"Seriously Sherlock, you can't just use my stuff when you get bored!" She sounded pissed at him, she'd obviously had a rough day yesterday, he thought.

"You were out of jam- I was trying to make some." He thought this would explain everything, but of course, Molly was way too annoyed for simple explanations.

"JAM? You are NEVER hungry and you want JAM? Do you even live on Earth Sherlock? And what you have made in this bottle isn't jam- it's mouldy and sloppy!"

"Well, I tried to cook but the cooker started playing up and making funny noises…"

She muttered a very rude word, "Sherlock that means it's done!"

"Well Toby didn't think so." He retorted.

"Toby is a CAT!"

"And yet he still has more potential than Anderson ever will." He mumbled.
Suddenly Sherlock heard a massive crash that sounded like the shower curtain rail had fallen off and soon after a piercing screech filled the room.

"Molly? Are you alright?" Sherlock shouted.

"Do you think I'm alright? I mean, no sorry, that was rude, um…"

"Oh don't start stuttering again, I liked the other Molly better." He interrupted rudely.

His comment made Molly smile a very weak smile before she answered painfully.
"Sherlock, can you come in here for a moment? I think I've dislocated my shoulder."

Sherlock didn't know what else he could do so sighed, closed the laptop and strode over proudly to the bathroom door.

"Are you decent?"

"Not exactly, hang on." Sherlock waited a few seconds before she continued, "Alright come in."

Sherlock turned the door knob half-way before realising it wouldn't turn anymore, well, he thought, this wasn't going to help.

"Molly, it's locked." He heard a soft groan of desperation as she tried to get out of the shower to unlock it. After a few more painful squeaks from Molly he just decided to break the door down. It took a few shoves before it unhinged itself but sure enough the barrier fell down. He glanced in the shower to see Molly curled up on the floor, clutching her shoulder and scrunching up her face.

"Oh Molly…" He started.

"Can we save the lecture for later please?" She requested, her voice hinting at the pain she was in.

"I wasn't going to give you one, I was just trying out some emotions- I believe that one was sympathy- but alright, I can arrange a lecture for you if that's what you want" He lingered on the last sentence, thinking about what he should say next. "Here, give me your hand." He offered his to clasp around hers. Gently, he stood her up at leant her against the wall. "Wait here a moment…" He smirked, "and try not to slip."
Sherlock dashed off to her bedroom and opened her wardrobe. She really needs a shopping trip, he thought. He skimmed the wardrobe for something that didn't look like clothes a granny would wear- which was extremely hard for him- and paced back to wear Molly was.

"Oh, thanks." Molly reached out to take the clothes from him but her hand was soon knocked out the way. Puzzled, she looked at Sherlock, waiting for an answer to the silent question that showed in her face.

"Well, if you think you can dress yourself without screaming in pain every few seconds then be my guest." He thrust the clothes towards her expectantly, but got a sigh of annoyance instead.

"Fine, but promise me you won't look?"

"I promise on the power of my brilliance." He closed his eyes.
She hesitated for a moment before slowly lifting up her right arm to guide Sherlock's arm to her shoulders. She put her arm through her sleeve but struggled to lift the other arm up without it throbbing badly. Sherlock already knew that would happen so held her left hand and tried to put the sleeve through that way instead of making her try to lift it up. As he was threading the top through he felt that something was different. He felt Molly shiver suddenly and tense up, that's when he felt his hand still holding Molly's. What puzzled him though was that he didn't mind the contact; in fact, he was thoroughly enjoying the feeling.

"Um, Sherlock?" Molly coughed.

"What? Oh, I was just taking your pulse." He made his necessary excuses and he let go of her soft hand sharply, making her wince. "There, all done," he opened his eyes and felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a small but noticeable smile.

"Thank you Sherlock," she muttered, blushing violently as she spoke. She tried to walk past him smoothly but ended up stumbling right into his arms. He rolled his eyes and straightened her up.

"Come on, we need to get you to a hospital."

"But Sherlock…" She protested, trying to warn him that people thought he was dead.

"Master of disguise, remember?" He pointed to himself mockingly and helped her out the door.

I know, this chapter is probably too long but if I divided it where it was originally then it would be too short- I just can't win. As I said before, please review- otherwise I won't know how to improve or add things that you as readers might want in the story.

I also keep referencing to something in this story that doesn't really have anything to do with Sherlock- I think it's pretty subtle, but I guess I shall have a little competition.

Whoever spots the reference first (excluding forever young 14 and Sherlockedmelon because I know you should get it straight away) will, I don't know, have an internet cookie? Whatever floats your boat :)