Hey, hey, the sun might have stopped shining quite as brightly but I am still pretending that summer has arrived and I'll enjoy it as long as I can.

Thank you for all your reviews, I'm glad there are people out there enjoying it. As you may have gathered from the end of the previous chapter we're jumping forward a little bit. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

He had been absolutely right about being taken away to go into rehab. She managed to find that out by asking a friend of the guy, Sebastian, who had spoken to Sherlock the night they'd been together. She had hoped for a while that he'd come back to Uni, maybe in a few weeks' time…but the weeks turned into months and he never reappeared.

She cherished the memory of their one night together and she often wondered what it had been about him that had made her act so uncharacteristically and why she had fallen for him so hard. And she had, she still thought of him every so often even ten years later so it was an utter shock when she was settling into her new job at St Barts in London to have him walk into her morgue accompanied by her boss Mike Stamford.

It was the first time she'd seen him since that night but she recognised him immediately. It seemed however, that that recognition was not reciprocated. He barely looked up from his phone whilst Mike introduced her and when he did look up it was only to ask her some questions about the autopsy she was just finishing up. It seemed he'd turned his hobby of crime deduction into a job and he'd even managed to link up with Scotland Yard on a few cases.

She was too in awe of him and too ashamed at not being recognised to ever mention their night together. Maybe the drugs had erased it, one of the forensic guys, Anderson, mentioned his drug habit to her when they were getting coffee one day so it seemed it had been an ongoing problem for him. She did try to rekindle things by asking him out for coffee but he shut her down so hard that she never tried again.

It was a shock therefore when he caught up with her one day in the canteen, asking about a couple of bodies that she'd already processed. He complimented her hair and she remembered feeling a flush of happiness at him finding her even vaguely attractive and then he'd sat with her, grumbling, as she ate her pasta dish. But that's when it happened… after she'd asked him why he wanted to see the bodies.

'Case. Funny really because I'm being paid by a client from Sands Sanderson bank, a guy I used to go to uni with….Sebastian. I expect you remember him.'

Molly found herself sitting stock still. Had he just referred to the guy who'd slagged him off that night all those years ago? She somehow managed to swallow her food and she looked up at him and he finally noticed her stunned expression.

He frowned. 'What? Don't tell me you don't remember him.'

'Are you…I mean, are you talking about the night we…' she trailed off not quite knowing how to word it. It seemed Sherlock had no such compunctions.

'Slept together? Yes, that night.'

'But you've NEVER mentioned it. I thought you'd forgotten it. You know, what with the drugs and everything.'

He scoffed. 'Don't be ridiculous Molly. Of course I remember how I lost my virginity. It's not the sort of thing a person forgets. Now are you finished because I really do need to see those bodies tonight.'

And that was it, night remembered and conversation closed. And yet she had so many things she wanted to ask him. Had he ever thought about her? Unlikely. Had he ever slept with anyone else? She had no idea on this one. Did he have any regrets? She really hoped not.

She was tempted to ask him so many times but it seemed obvious that even given their past he wasn't interested in her now in any way and so she kept her mouth shut. It didn't stop her feelings though; from the moment she had seen him in the morgue she had started to fall for him all over again and as the years went by it deepened into a love that she knew she would never shake off.

The one night that gave her hope however was the night he came to her asking her for her help with Moriarty. She still could barely believe that this evil psychopath that everyone was talking about was the same man who had dated her as "Jim from IT". Even having seen the photos and the trial and everything… but she knew one thing and that was that she believed in Sherlock, he wasn't a fake. She'd known him too long and too well to ever believe that. Whatever he needed she would give him.

It had been late when he'd come to the morgue, after ten at night, and the planning and sourcing of the right body had taken almost four hours. She was exhausted by the time they'd finished but there was no going anywhere. If Sherlock was spending the night in the lab then so was she.

He was sat on the floor playing with the little rubber ball that he was going to use under his arm to restrict his pulse…throwing it back and forth and she knew his mind was still racing with ideas and possibilities. She was terrified that the plan wouldn't work, that Sherlock would end up hurt or worse and she had to swallow down her fears. It wouldn't help him to have to deal with her getting emotional.

She sat down next to him and watched as the ball bounced back and forth…back and forth…until he finally caught it and held it up staring at it.

'Do you ever have regrets Molly?'

She shrugged. 'Don't we all at times? I regret getting too drunk every time I wake up with a hang over, I regret arguing with my friend Meena recently about a stupid TV show. As for big things…I wish I'd told my dad that I loved and appreciated him more often than I did before he died. Why, what do you regret?'

He was silent for so long that she wasn't sure he was going to answer.

'I…I regret not coming back to you.'

Molly felt as though all the air had left the room. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She had long since given up hope and so she didn't quite know what to make of this.

He turned to face her and she nervously looked up at him.

'Listen Molly, maybe it's this night and everything that's happened. I have never sought or needed sentiment in my life but you've been there anyway. Maybe it's the fear of death, the fear of never being me again but…'

He broke off and averted his gaze and it forced Molly to lean forward and take his hand in hers. She could feel the slightly rougher skin against her own, the warmth of him.

'But what Sherlock? What do you need?'

He turned back to her and one word changed everything. 'You.'

He leant in and pressed his lips against her own and the memories of that night hit her all over again. He was seared into her soul and she remembered just how he had tasted, how he had moved within her and without even knowing how she was on his lap kissing him as though her life depended on it and her hands were in his hair pulling him closer.

When her mouth moved to his neck she could hear him whispering to her. 'If I never see you again Molly, I want one night…just one that I can take with me.'

She couldn't speak. She knew if she tried to that she would end up in tears and she didn't want that. She didn't want him to remember her crying over him. So instead she concentrated all her fears and emotions and energy into kissing him.

They both seemed to sense the urgency and need and they pulled and dragged at each other's clothing until Molly found herself lying back on a pile of their clothes with a shirtless Sherlock lying over her with his mouth closed around her right nipple.

She looked up at the bright, fluorescent lights of the lab and she took a juddering breath as she felt his hand pushing her pants out of the way so he could slide his fingers inside her. Her memories of that night with that young, teenage boy and this night with him all grown up seemed to merge in her head.

He had definitely gotten better with age. Her question as to whether he'd carried on having sex seemed to be answered as he brought her to the edge of her orgasm with an experienced hand. He didn't let her climax though; instead he sat up and pulled her trousers and pants down her legs leaving her naked and vulnerable.

He looked down at her and let his tongue slowly lick over his perfect lips as he let one finger trail through the trimmed hairs between her legs. Then he brought his finger up to his lips and sucked it clean before catching her watching him. She knew her eyes were wide at the sight, she wasn't sure she'd ever seen anything more erotic.

'For the first time ever Molly I wish we had more time.'

Then he moved back over her and asked her if she was sure before he positioned himself at her entrance and pushed into her. The groan he let out as he did had her muscles clenching around him, her hands pushing his trousers down a bit more so she could press on his backside, her nails digging into his skin.

'God you feel so good.' His face was in the crook of her neck and she kissed his shoulder relishing the feel of him deep inside her once more. It just felt so right, so perfect and she never wanted it to end.

It seemed that Sherlock felt the same and he set a slow, languid pace but that it no way slowed down her orgasm, instead it seemed to intensify it so when she came she came for far longer than she normally did.

Her cries finally forced him to thrust more forcefully inside her as he started to chase his own release and her first orgasm just seemed to morph into the build up towards a second.

She had no concept of where they were or if they could be heard. None of it mattered, nothing except her and Sherlock and their need for each other.

His skin felt slippy with sweat as he lifted her legs higher, his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside her that made her toes curl and her body arch and then she came again calling out his name and feeling him releasing himself into her as his own orgasm rushed through him.

As they both recovered she held onto him, feeling him taking deep, shuddering breaths and wishing that she never had to let him go. Her only regret now was that she was on the pill and that there was no chance of her getting pregnant because at this exact moment she wished more than anything that she could keep some small part of him for herself.

Finally he pushed away from her and stood, passing her some tissues and then turning away as he started to redress himself.

She could hear noises now, the sounds of the hospital waking up; the new day beginning and she remembered all over again that this might be the last time she got to spend with Sherlock. Even if he survived the day she knew he had to go undercover, to try to clear up Moriarty's lies. There were no guarantees they'd ever see each other again.

He seemed to be thinking of this too because he turned back to her as she put her lab coat back on and he took her hand.

'Promise me one thing Molly. Don't wait for me; don't spend your life thinking we have a chance. I need….I want you to move on, find someone else. You deserve love and a life and I can't give it to you. Please, promise me.'

It was with a heart that she felt was being ripped into shreds that she nodded her head and agreed.

Would you have agreed? Not sure I would have. I hope you liked this scenario…it could have happened, right? And I couldn't resist making reference to Sebastian in The Blind Banker…after all Molly did get food and Sherlock must have had to wait whilst she ate it.

I'll be back at the weekend with an update but in the meantime I love hearing what you guys think so feed my muse.