I'm so happy people are enjoying this gift to lilsherlockian1975. This story is a true joy to write. Now a special and countless hugs goes out to lilsherlockian1975, enp, Michaela pendragon Holmes, Etakdabreg, roseokwerekwu, Andriana-greece, MrsMCrieff, lilmang86, and travellady77 for the lovely reviews. They made me smile and touched my heart...they also made me type more! Countless hugs!

Also Nice warning: 'On the corner of Basil and Rathbone' I'm being cheeky. However if you are in the mood to watch Basil Rathbone play Sherlock Holmes simply google 'Basil Rathbone movies' and find them all, especially as Holmes on Y-tube.

Now on to...

~*~Orange Colored Sky ~*~

~*~Part 4~*~

'I was only testing you and you rang true every time…'

-The Abbey Grange by Arthur Conan Doyle

Whoever had lost a treasure, I knew that night I had gained one.

-The Sign of the Four by Arthur Conan Doyle

I was walking along. Mindin' my business. When love came and hit me in the eye.

-from song, 'Orange Colored Sky'…sung by Nat King Cole

~*~SHERLOCK~*~

They were now at the coffeehouse on the corner of Basil and Rathbone that had at times horrible poetry and even worse live music…Sherlock refused to trust anyone who kept calling their violin a 'fiddle'…The man was half American but still not all Americans called violins…fiddles…and that moron should know better! Plus, one of the singers had a bad ear infection so her pitch was seriously off…In other words, Sherlock Holmes was in complete and total hell…even with a perfect cup of rich tasting coffee in his hands…he now knew what hell was…

Of course, Molly and he hadn't started off here. No, they had at first gone to an active night club…Where Sherlock happily pointed out countless cheaters…a man who loved his dog too much…found a couple of wanted bank robbers…A man with a foot fetish…In which, Sherlock had to inform Molly that her feet wouldn't hold much interest to the man. At her look he had been forced to explain that her feet were too cute…He hated that word…cute…yet he couldn't help but think it.

Molly wore the red dress with the colorful roses…as well as everything else he had suggested and Sherlock also couldn't help but think that she looked lovely.

At one point she danced with a good looking stranger but when the bloke in question moved his hand to rest on Molly's slow swinging arse…Sherlock suddenly found himself moving quite fast to do something…What he'd have done he'd never quite know for Molly slipped away from that arsehole right quick. So Sherlock, showing overwhelming mercy…let the man go. Especially seeing how Molly walked over to him with such a lovely bright smile upon her face…Her sparkling brown eyes focused completely on him as if he was the only man in the club. He liked that…a bit too much actually…So he forced himself to look away from her and when he did he saw…

Molly gasped…Having decided to follow his eye path. Her hand fell gently upon his arm. Even through all the layers of cloth he wore, Sherlock could have sworn her touch branded him. He quickly glanced back at her. She no longer was smiling that lovely smile that had been just for him…No, it was replaced with a harsh frown and a gathering storm of fury. He already had his phone out to text Lestrade…

Sherlock growled Molly's name as she moved away from him to the scene of the disgusting crime. So he quickly followed all the while texting. He knew exactly why Molly was so upset and he could honestly understand. For once, he didn't need John to explain the why's of it all. They had both seen a man slip something nasty into a girl's drink…a girl the stranger was talking to…he did it when she looked over her shoulder to see if someone she knew was coming up behind her…

Lately, Molly had too many corpses upon her slab that had been slipped too much of the nasty stuff…Women and men…So Sherlock knew that alone would make her highly upset and furious. So much so that she would storm over there and hit…no, no make that punch the bloke hard in the groin. Yep, she did just that! And Sherlock did not wince. Nope, he did not.

He did find himself thankful that with all the crap he had pulled over the years with her that she hadn't done that to him.

Molly quickly explained what the stranger had done…pointed to the drink…Sherlock heard the words 'evidence' and 'police' and the shocked woman in front of Molly turned angry and took her handbag and began hitting the jerk with it. Molly and some other women, as well as a few men, actually cheered her on.

Forcing Sherlock to also call his brother so he and Molly wouldn't be held up by the police when they came. His annoying brother helped but asked if he was on a date…and then when Sherlock told him what exactly he was helping Molly with…The horrible excuse for a human being aka his own brother actually offered to help. He turned him down, of course, in the manner Mycroft was use too…He texted a picture of a certain finger and he may have wrote something physically impossible that his brother couldn't actually do but told him to do anyway.

So after that little adventure they were here… at this coffeehouse…where Sherlock was certain this place should be named, 'Cups of Great Torment' instead of its current name, 'Cups of Lovin'…Seriously, he'd rather be shot again by Mary instead of being here. This…this hell…

Anyway, Molly forced him to come here because this was supposedly a great place to meet singles if one didn't want a pub or club setting…Of course, there was also married couples but he wasn't focused on them now was he? Nope. Nada. For Molly, his Molly wanted a man…a single man…a bloody keeper!

Sherlock stood near Molly. Glaring hard at anyone who dared to come to close to him…or Molly…All the while sipping his coffee while she did the same…Well, almost the same. While he stood, she sat upon a tall bar like wooden chair that look far too uncomfortable…There was a small tall round table in front of her where she could rest her drink when she chose…And her foot lightly kept perfect beat to the music around them.

The tall chair kept Molly at a perfect height so he didn't have to bend too far to hear her when she choose to speak…Or to jab at him with her elbow…Which…OW-by the way!

"What about that man?" Molly lifted her cup and titled it over to her left to the red-haired gentleman in question. "He's cute. Really cute."

Sherlock glared at the man. Seriously not liking Mr. Cute. "No. He breeds cats and takes them to shows…and throws a fit if his perfect kitties loses."

"Oh! I like cats, Sherlock." Molly reminded him happily.

"No. He owns a certain type of breed…You must think of Toby. The man is a pure cat snob and would think your cat less than his own. Toby deserves so much better..."

"Toby, huh? Yeah, he deserves so much better…" Molly muttered before taking a slow, long sip of her drink. Sherlock watched as her eyes closed in bliss and she let out a soft moan. Watched without blinking as she swallowed and licked her lips afterwards. "Damn, this is good coffee."

His felt his fingers tighten upon his coffee cup…He forced himself to look away and ignore a tightening in his gut.

"Plus, he's been in a relationship with another man for close to twelve years now."

Molly laughed, her laughter full of joy and happiness…Sounded a thousand times better than the music being played in this perfect little hell hole. "How lovely! I hope they keep going strong…Though you could have started off with that bit first."

He turned his face back towards hers to glare at her. She seemed closer than before. Much closer. Leaning close. Her eyes sparkled.

"Oh! You didn't notice until just now…" Molly hazard a guess. It was true so his glare was so hot it was surprising it didn't set anyone ablaze. She simply laughed softly and patted his arm as if to take away any hurtful sting to his great pride.

" It's okay, Sherlock." She whispered soothingly. "I know you will find me a keeper."

Sherlock let a low growl escape his throat. He wanted to find a bad guy and toss him off a roof…there may or may not be a rubbish bins underneath.

Molly, sweet Molly who had no idea what he was thinking or desiring, gifted him a small lovely smile. Even if she had known, Sherlock suspected she'd have smiled anyway. It was a lovely smile. Soft. Beautiful. One talented oil master painters spent lifetimes attempting to achieve.

Her fingers from her free hand…the one not holding her coffee…tapped and danced lightly upon his sleeve. Years ago, Sherlock noticed she liked to touch things…it was like a mindless compulsion that she couldn't help. For a while a long time Molly had even attempted to stop doing that with him…Looking shocked and ashamed of herself when she caught herself doing that…For a time…Which he hated, she had seemed to stop doing that with him. Then one day he had caught her hand while walking together down to the morgue…and held it captive firmly upon his arm…Hoping to let her know silently that he didn't mind. For he refused to let her know he didn't mind her touch…Hell, sometimes he even craved it. Nope, he could never say that out loud.

Now if he could get her to stop touching other men while she talked…men she felt comfortable with…He'd feel a thousand times better. He could make an exception with John…Maybe…

Hell, he once timed a four second hug that lasted between the two…A second longer and he'd had punched someone and it wouldn't have been Molly…Like John needed a beautiful woman who wasn't his wife pressing her soft and warm body tightly against his. Plus, where had his hug been? For seriously, who had been stuck in a cage with a huge arse of a hungry snarling tiger that day? Huh? Who? It damn sure hadn't been John! Yet the man receives a four second hug from his Molly…Yeah, he should have just reached over and punched John anyway. Screw the very fact that John had saved him.

He found himself nearly growling like a dangerous predator…He didn't, however, especially when he heard Molly continue softly, "I'm a keeper."

There was absolutely no hint of a question to the statement. His sharp eyes shot to hers. Yes, she was indeed a keeper…no doubt. Never any doubt actually.

"I've had men tell me…" She still spoke softly…Her mind clearly somewhere else as if looking through her own private memories. Molly blinked, coming back, giving Sherlock a certain look. "I've also been told that I'm a bit too picky. But I want what I want…I like and love certain…things."

Molly looked down at her tea as if she had forgotten about it and was surprised to find it there…Her fingers now dancing and playing along the sides.

"I'll admit something, Sherlock…I hadn't wanted to share with you because you would demand to see it and I'm ready to let you…if you want. A day or so after Moriarty and you met upon the roof and everything went to plan…He sent me something…Moriarty. A small little video…He said he was certain he'd win but if I was watching that maybe he was no longer part of the physical world…or perhaps he'd done something creative and everyone simply thought he was dead...He wanted me to know something. He thought you wouldn't see it or notice it but he did. He told me about the three bullets aimed at your friends…But he didn't point a bullet my way. Not because I didn't matter. He even said it might come back and bite his arse…but he couldn't. Wouldn't. In fact he called in some favors that if something should happen to me to get to you…they would pay…also, supposedly he is still paying certain people…I asked your brother if that put me in danger but he doubted it. There are still people out there seriously afraid of the man…some don't even believe he's dead. It wasn't out of sentiment. He didn't do it because he cared…He did it because he said there was something about me. A light that if he was a different man he'd capture and imprison. He said I was the type he'd have blackmailed into his bed…or even marriage. The things he said were creepy as hell but to him I think they were as close to an erotic love letter could come. I've met his two brothers…One owns a radio station…another a pub…each time they see me they treat me like I'm someone who had been important to their baby brother and to be honest it weirds me out…and a woman I think is his sister…I'm not sure if she is but…there is something about her…She seems to talk in riddles sometimes and she'd incredibly brilliant …"

Molly shrugged before looking back at him. "I'm not sure if all Moriarty had said was true or not…Though I did believe him when he said I was different and in his own way he said I was a keeper. Sure some would say believing a mad man is crazy but…well…He also said he loved my wicked fingers and I knew bloody well that to be the truth."

Sherlock was completely stunned by her revelation…and yes, he wanted to see that video…and…wait…wicked fingers…

She didn't mean…

"I gave Moriarty a lovely hand job…before I…knew he was Moriarty and was playing me. Why I was surprised that you thought Jim was gay…I don't know if he was or was simply playing a game with you…but trust me, the man enjoyed it and I enjoyed it…Mostly because I become seriously turned on bringing my partner pleasure. I get off on it…He knew…found that out and he was amazed by it…In the video he sent me he admitted that a lot of things he faked but not his begging when my fingers petted and stroked him just right. I made him beg and he should have hated me for that…instead…Well, I don't really understand men…especially men I end up liking or why I can't stop liking them…That one night was special, I guess. I wanted to forget about it to be honest…Wicked fingers…He's not the only one to call them that. I sometimes receive drunk texts from former boyfriends telling me they miss my wicked fingers…not me…but my fingers. I wish they would remember the woman attached to those fingers…" Molly admitted.

"Molly—"Sherlock began, his voice low and rough…

Molly interrupted him. "Please just find me a man who will see the woman…see me…Know that I can make mistakes but I'm…not a bad person…I work on corpses but not because I don't see them as people…it's because I see them…They were breathing and now they are not…and I need to know why. Those mysteries…solving those mysteries help me…I can be selfish, Sherlock…just as you can be. I would not want to change that about you…yet sometimes other men seem to want to change that in me."

"I wouldn't change that about you…" Sherlock informed her. She was already perfect enough for him.

Molly gave him a certain look before taking a sip from her drink. After a moment she finally declared, leaning towards him…Her mouth close to his ear…Her breath warm and teasing…"I'm hoping you'll find me a man who will know when I text him that I'm thinking about him…He'll know without me explaining that I just played with myself and moaned out his name as I got off…"

His breath caught in his throat and his heart may have stopped. He slammed down his coffee, to leave it there and hope this hell would be over soon.

"I wonder…" Molly seemed to muse to him, "if I'll met him tonight with your help…Will he be able see me…A woman tired of not getting what she really wants…A man to love and to love her back…A woman who is feeling very naughty because under this lovely and proper dress…she purposely forgot to wear her knickers."

She leaned away and went back to looking around her as if searching…waiting for something.

It took Sherlock a long moment…a very long moment…He towered near her…glaring…He wanted to do something…not sure what but something….His fingers curled…longing to reach out and…and…Instead he growled out, "What the fuck has gotten into you, Molly."

She titled her head his way to study him…her eyes held a strong spark of determination…"Obviously, never the right man, Sherlock."

"Are you playing your own game, Molly?" He had to ask. His heart beating fast and loud…

Molly blinked and gave a slight shrug. "Perhaps. Doesn't really matter. I will go with whoever you pick for me. Though do keep in mind that you have been known to chance off my previous prospects…You did the same with John. Sabotaging all his relationships until you found one that said the magic words…'I'll talk to him. I'm on your side…' Okay, I have no way of knowing exactly what she said…but I'm certain that you knew she would help you win John back. So Mary was allowed to stay in your world…"

"I…I allowed…Tom…that's his name right? To stay." He couldn't help but defend himself.

Molly gave a lady like snort. "Right. You told him that wherever Tom and I ended up would be your future and permanent bolt-hole."

"Your point?"

"On the nights I worked you'd show up and play your violin while he tried to sleep…all the while you were naked!" Molly reminded him with a sharp look.

"Still don't see your point." And honestly he didn't.

"You even kick him out of our bed!"

So? There was a sofa to sleep on in the other room. Perhaps he needed to explain his logic.

"Well, the one time I let him sleep there he cuddled up to me and touched me in a highly improper manner and when I told him I was in no way you…he punched me…and yelled at me as if I wasn't in anyway the victim."

"You poisoned the dog!" Molly snapped.

"No! I gave him a harmless sleeping draft that proved who was the murderer in the William Gillette case!"

"You didn't know it was harmless!"

Sherlock quickly looked away. For he couldn't really argue and if he tried there was a strong chance he'd be hit. Plus, in all honesty he wouldn't have killed the tiny dog. No matter what others might say he wasn't a monster.

Though he couldn't help but suddenly wonder if putting bright blue hair dye in meat dagger's shampoo and body wash had finally made the man pack up his annoying bags and get the hell out of London and leave his Molly alone. Sherlock still refused to ask and Molly ever once suggested that he might have had anything whatsoever to do with their break up…

Or it could have simply been the man's odd and rare…and to be honest…weird…phobia about naked men playing violins…

"I still don't see your point." Sherlock forced the lie past his lips. For in all honesty he could see her point quite clearly and it was making him nervous. Very nervous…

Molly gave him a long look as if to let him know she knew bloody well he was lying his arse off. Slowly she lifted her cup to her lips and drank….long…slow…deep. Of course he watched…Especially when the tip of her deep pink…and he hated to admit it…quite sexy tongue so delicately licked her lips.

He was quite grateful for his long coat…to hide sudden action that reminded the great cold detective that he was all male…and his body had needs that he feared only Molly could satisfy…No other woman could make him so hot…so hard…Not even the woman…No, only Molly. It annoyed him and worried him that if he ever allowed himself to touch and taste…to give in to what his body would demand at times that he would indeed become an addict. For she would be more powerful than any drug and he knew he'd go somewhere dangerously dark if something were to happen to her…Sentiment. He didn't understand it. Maybe he never would.

Molly finally looked away. Ignoring his personal battle and completely pretending to not to notice or even care…Which made him suddenly what to grab her and make her understand that…that…no, he wouldn't go there.

"Once there was a man I fell deeply in love with…" Molly began carelessly as if talking about London's weather.

Wait, she fell in love with some worthless idiot? …if that man had hurt her, Sherlock knew he'd find the man and punch him more than once in the face. Really, he would.

"But…" She continued in the same tone, "The violinist didn't seem to want or need my love or even me. So, I accepted…happy to be able to be around him…watch him be a pure genius and slowly we became friends and he told me and showed me that I was wrong. He did need me…I was thrilled and satisfied. Then I noticed that maybe he also needed my love as well…not lust…but love. See this violinist enjoyed the thrill of a grand exciting mystery…but he's never came to observe that love itself is the biggest and most exciting grand mystery ever to be had! Though I'm still waiting to see if one day he will. He doesn't like emotions…He hides any fear or worry behind a cold mask of indifference. I don't want him to change…but I do want to walk beside him. Be in his world. Always a part of it. Be there when things go to hell and when things are good…I honestly don't want another man but Sherlock I'm done making wishes upon shooting stars. He needs to make a move or help me move on…Or I'll make a move without his help…and I'm not talking about asking him if I could play with his instrument. Though I'm certain we'd both enjoy it. Like I said I want a permanent relationship that will lead to marriage and arguments about why some bloody twat used all our savings to buy a rotting, about to sink any minute, fishing boat for some fucking case that he's trying to solve."

O-Okay…

Now, Sherlock would never, ever, say it out loud but for once it took him a good full minute to find a response. So unlike him…yet, it forced him to study others around them…

A dentist concerned about her missing cat. A retired cop who was deeply concerned about a relative who was in the hospital…his sister? Two friends planning a surprise party for another friend…

He inhaled sharply when he felt her clothed breasts press themselves against him as she leaned towards him…close…so very close…He could breathe in her wonderful scent. So familiar. So wonderful and dare he think it…beautiful…Her lips once more near his ear. Her voice low, sexy as all hell and promised things that made his cock actually ache…damn it all!

"Oh, just so you know and there is no misunderstanding…when I speak of 'playing with his instrument', I do mean cock, Sherlock, his cock."

Sherlock wanted to scream and rant…Or pull her close and let her feel just what her words alone was doing to his 'instrument'! It was a bit too eager…too bloody eager!

Seriously!?

"I'll have you know, Molly, that I knew what you meant…for you don't play the violin!" He snapped darkly…Longing to suddenly be cruel or just turn around and walk out leaving her here…yeah, right…like he really could just walk out of here while his cock was attempting to escape his trousers and let Molly do with it whatever those wicked fingers and heart desired. He knew he could not be cruel to his Molly, he'd lose her forever…and if he dared to walk out…the guy in the far corner who has been eyeing her would come over and attempt to 'comfort' her. Like he'd let that happen! Nope. Anyway, she didn't need a taxidermist who spent hours playing/designing video games around her. Wasn't happening with the great Sherlock Holmes around!

"Also," he could careless that there was a bit of bite in his tone. "I don't see how solving a case could be solved with me buying some rotten boat! Anyway, it's a well-known fact that I'd use my brother's savings long before I'd ever use ours!"

Did she just smile? Did his Molly attempt to give him an innocent look? Why did she lean away from him with an understanding nod and mutter, "Of course, should have known?"

After an intense moment of his glaring hotly at her he growled out a question of, "Well, are you now going to tell me how bloody fantastic your blowjobs are?"

Another sexy and quite lovely smile came his way. Her gorgeous brown eyes seemed to dance with strong delight.

"Well…" Molly drew out the word oh so slowly as if thinking about it. "I've never had any complaints, Sherlock, and I know it doesn't matter if we talk about sex. For you have always cared more about your brain than what your body or your cock may want. Someone has stated on-line that you once had a serious accident and things down there no longer work…if that's true, what a shame but if not…oh, well, it don't matter now does it? As long as we can stay friends, right?"

Okay, someone was on his 'needs to be punched' list…it was probably Andersen.

"Molly…" He began…

Her hand shot out, quicker than a poisonous snake striking its enemy.

"Oh, my God! Do you see that man over there?" She pointed out the man in question. She seemed suddenly excited. "He kind of looks like you except he's hotter!"

Suddenly Sherlock glared at the man in question. Another person has just been placed on his 'needs to be punched' list.

"That man is not hotter than me!" Sherlock told her, furious that she would even dare to think it much less say it out loud. Sure the man was about his height…had dark hair with some gray at the temples…some would say his lovely manly cheekbones…but seriously the man was not hotter than him! Nope! Never!

"Well…" Molly had the audacity to sound doubtful. Where is the loyalty? She loved him damn it…She did not need to go around thinking crazy thoughts (for example) that some American was hotter than him!

She dared to continue, "He's ringing my bell simply looking at him. I'm feeling all feminine…Wouldn't mind at all him finding out I'm not wearing knickers. He's a big whole ten that promises orgasms upon countless orgasms…"

"Stop it." Sherlock growled out the order through clenched teeth.

"Perhaps I will if you tell me about him, I will…" Molly suggested innocently though the look in her intelligent eyes were not innocent. Not. At. All.

Damn she could tie him in all kinds of knots!

"He's a New Yorker." Sherlock informed her coldly. Knowing he had to put an end to her madness.

Instead she looked more interested. The other man needed to be punched no doubt about it.

"Really? I've always thought I'd visit New York one day…In fact I've been offered a job more than once over there…Though Canada has been a bit harder than the Americans at their wooing me over. For years now Canada has sent me little thinking of you cards with hearts and the cutest kittens…as well as pictures of corpses in the most unique ways of death. If you want I can show you some of the pictures…"

Of course, he bloody well wanted to see the pictures! They sounded delightful…However, he had a lot more reasons to despise Canadians and Americans now…Trying to steal his Molly away from him. How dare they? Okay, more people to put on his to be hit list…Or he could and he shivered with raw disgust over the thought but perhaps ask Mycroft to do something. For the pictures of interesting corpses was fine and dandy but no more wooing Molly with job offers. She belonged at Bart's. In the lovely cesspool that was London and more importantly he needed her nearby. Close to him. Always.

"I've been there…to New York. Very backwater place. They still poke a body with a stick or the toe of their shoe to judge if it is a corpse or not." Sherlock quickly lied…and he wasn't lying about having gone to New York.

"Hmm…" Molly was still looking at Mr. Hotter-Than-You as if she was thinking of all kinds of delightful, naughty things.

And Sherlock didn't like that. Not. At. All.

She use to look at him like that when they were alone and she thought he was focused on something else.

"He's here to give his expertise on a case." He finally growled out.

He almost sighed with relief as her eyes landed back on him.

"A surgical case." He continued, knowing that he couldn't help but tell her what he'd read about the other man. "He's a neurosurgeon…Quite good…perhaps better than good if they practically begged him to come to London. He'll end up doing the surgery himself for he would refuse to let someone else end up with the glory. He's self-centered which is what hurt the last relationship he was in. He did love her for he shows the sentiment in wearing a watch she had given him. Plus, he's arrogant as all hell."

"Yum, arrogant men are what I like." Molly told him in complete honesty. Her dark eyes still focused on him.

True. Sherlock knew that quite well.

She continued to reply calmly setting down her drink. "I also heard you say pretty much that the man I wouldn't mind ripping the clothes right off has…magic hands."

"I didn't say that!"

"Oh! He's headed for the toilets, quick follow and check out his equipment! Then tell me all about it!"

Later Sherlock might wonder how she knew this seeing she was still focused so completely on him. He'd later guess that it was a lie to get a response from him…a certain type of response.

His hands came up and jerked Molly off her stool. He ignored her yelp to pull her close. To inform her in his darkest and lowest voice, "A man's cock is not a library book, Molly!"

With that his mouth came down on hers. He wasn't the least bit gentle as he took her mouth with his. Hell, he didn't even feel gentle. Yes, at first it had started as punishment for she had been purposely driving him crazy and playing her own little game. It turned into something else. Pure pleasure. Utter need. Their tongues danced together. Molly moaned and pressed closer still. Perfect. His hands tightened. He needed her. Always. Hell, he…he loved this bloody annoying woman. Her kiss was addicting. There was a promise in that kiss. That there would be more and would satisfy for a brief moment any wild cravings. Only briefly.

Slowly and reluctantly the kiss ended. The way Molly looked at him nearly made him kiss her all over again. Her hand came up and tenderly…almost lovingly caressed his cheek and jaw.

"Tell me." She softly ordered. Sherlock was a brilliantly smart man and he could hear the silent words, 'and be truthful.'

So…He licked his own lips…no matter how badly he wanted to lick hers…he spoke. Truthfully.

"I found you a keeper. A man."

She looked as if she was about to speak but he stopped her with a harsh, "And no it's not that bloody surgeon over there!" His voice gentled before saying, "It's me. I'm your man. I'm not easy to live with but…You know how you said you just wanted to be in my world? You…You….damn I hate romantic crap but you are my world."

"Aww…"

"Shut up!" Sherlock ordered. "I…I want a permanent relationship with you and any future children you have to be mine. I'm hoping for just one or two but if you wish for the makings of a possible cult then I will bow to your crazy wishes. I know wedding bliss is a bit abhorrent to me but you by my side it could make things quite possibly tolerable. I trust you will be the one to tell me when you are ready to drive off that cliff and I'll be there with a tux that you have picked out for me."

"Sherlock…now…you have to say it." Molly told him.

"Do I have to?" Sherlock nearly wined.

She gave him a pointed look.

He sighed before looking deep into her eyes. Hoping she could see the truth of what he was saying. Knowing it was completely true. He took a deep breath before admitting, "Molly Hooper, I love you."

Her eyes sparkled like mad stars that danced in a dark sky. Her hands began to pull his head down towards her…to capture his lips. But he stopped the motion, with his lips so incredibly close to hers.

"Wait, don't you have something to say back to me?" Sherlock asked, demanding a response.

Her smile beautiful and breathless. "Yeah, I do…It's about bloody time, Sherlock Holmes!"

With that they kissed.

Later she would declare to all their friends that she had won their little game.

But as her hand caressed his arse just right and his arms tightened around her. Sherlock knew bloody well he had actually won the annoying game and he was damn sure keeping his prize!

~*~End of Part 4~*~

Never fear I promised smut, so smut there shall be!

Off to Baker Street, of course, though the hussy in me and I'm certain my dear friend would say I didn't have to do it there but…I get an odd thrill out of it so for those that aren't crazy for smut can end here or wait for the last part with what I hope will be enjoyable smut…Plus, we should hear Molly's words of love, right? Might have to reread some great lilsherlockian1975 stories to get things just right. Trust me it won't be a hardship at all!

Anyway, my dear, wonderful lil, I hope you have laughed and enjoyed this story that I'm writing for you. I'm honored and deeply touched that I can call someone as delightful and so damn wonderful as you a friend. The next part hopefully in another week...yes, I know...

Also, those that instantly thought 'hey, that's Doctor Strange before the car wreck' well yes, who else could I possibly have that might be so called hot to drive Sherlock crazy…Um, sure could have been Khan…But it's easier to explain DS then Khan at a coffee place…anyway, if you are enjoying please let me know. Thank you!