Oh dear … what's going to happen now?

Part Six: Afterglow

She lay still and silent beneath him, not sure of how he would react from this onslaught and overflow of chemicals surging through his brain. He wasn't crushing her; in fact, she rather enjoyed the closeness of his body against hers. But when she felt wetness upon her shoulder she became aware of the fact that Sherlock was crying. Ever so slowly she raised her hand to his head, gently threading her fingers through his hair.

"Molly..." His voice was course, raspy, thick with emotion. He turned his head, his nose nuzzling her cheek. Their eyes met, a single tear sat upon his lashes, "What's happening to me?"

She had never seen him so raw. Free of his armour. The walls that he had built up about himself had been stripped away. She cradled the back of his head in her hand, bringing up her other to gently stroke his cheek.

"You've found your liberation." She told him softly.

He sniffled, "Liberation?"

"You've been able to let go, be free."

He sighed, leaning his forehead against her temple. She turned, brushing her nose against his.

"The first time can be rather overwhelming."

He laughed slightly, "Did you cry the first time you were brought to orgasm?"

Their eyes met.

"I honestly don't remember, but I was nearly brought to tears by you. Sex has not always been an entirely enjoyable experience for me. But you have by far been the most proficient lover that I have ever had."

He gazed upon her for a moment, then pressed his lips to hers, kissing her sweetly. When they parted she shifted her leg, brushing her foot along his calf muscle.

"I'm still on top of you!" He exclaimed, suddenly coming to notice this. He slipped away from her, coming to rest upon his back.

"You didn't hurt me. I would have let you known, if you had."

He wasn't looking at her; instead he was staring up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling rapidly. For a moment Molly was uncertain of what to do, fearing that perhaps all of this had been too much.

She grabbed the box of tissues once more and held them out to him, "Here, you can clean yourself up. I'm just going to pop off to the loo for a moment."

When he didn't take the box she set it down beside him and slipped off the bed. Once in the bathroom she splashed water upon her face and over the back of her neck. She didn't look at herself in the mirror until she had dried her face and neck with the towel.

Upon gazing at her reflection she found that she was still flushed. Her skin bore the faint mark of his teeth; there was a single red mark directly below her left breast. Her lips were red and swollen from his kisses.

After wiping herself clean she sat upon the edge of the tub, hugging herself about the middle. Truth be told she was terrified of what she may find when she returned to the bedroom. She had at long last gotten what she had wanted; she had shagged Sherlock Holmes, but at what cost?

He had told her that he wanted to be with her. He had thought that they were already in a relationship! He had brought her to orgasm twice. And now they had joined their bodies in the most intimate of ways.

Sex had the power to change friendships. It could strengthen it or break it. What would it do to them? What awaited her in that bedroom? Would he still be there, or would he have fled, realizing that this was not at all what he wanted? That all of this was asking too much of him.

Fighting back tears, Molly forced her self to stand and exit the bathroom. Upon entering her bedroom she was surprised to find the faint glow of the lamp on her nightstand filling the room. Sherlock was still upon the bed, now covered by the sheet. He was leaning against the headboard.

"What took you so long?"

She could feel his eyes moving over her naked body.

"Sorry ... I was ... I was thinking." She climbed up onto the bed, slipping beneath the sheet.

"Is that customary? To spend so much time thinking after coitus?" He grabbed her, pulling her up against him.

She sighed against his skin, reveling in the warmth of his body, "In some situations, yes, it is."

"And this is one of those situations?"

She tilted her head back so that she could look at him, "Yes."

"Why?"

She momentarily became distracted, as he slid his hand up and down her back, stopping directly before he touched the curvature of her arse.

"Be-because ... we just made love, and ..."

He stilled his hand, splaying out his fingers across her lower back, "Molly, don't think for one moment that I won't want to do this again, and again, and again." He emphasized each repetition with a kiss, "I have partaken of the pleasure that our united bodies can bring ... I assure you, I will want to make love to you for the rest of my life." He moved to kiss her again but she leaned back, placing her hands upon his chest.

"Sherlock Holmes, are you proposing to me?"

He took one of her hands in his, turning it over so that he could kiss her palm, "And what if I am? Do you object to such an offer?"

Molly swallowed thickly, "I-I don't know, so much has taken place tonight. I feel somewhat confused; my brain is all a bit fuzzy."

Sherlock chuckled, lacing her fingers with his, "Yes, I feel the same way. It's rather enjoyable. I don't think my mind has ever been so quiet, and I have you to thank for that." He held their joined hands over his heart, "You don't have to give me an answer tonight, I shouldn't have said anything yet, but I wanted to assure you that I wasn't about to up and leave you."

She settled herself down against his chest, as he continued to hold her close. She had feared that he would be the one overwhelmed but now it seemed that the tables had turned entirely and it was in fact she that was the one being overwhelmed. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, the scent of him filling her up. He was still holding onto her hand.

"How about we continue this conversation in the morning? Wait until our minds are a bit clearer, hmmm?" She propped herself up on her chin.

He looked at her for a moment; she knew that he was trying to read her, "All right. But nothing's going to change; I won't feel any different tomorrow than I do now. I'll still want you, I'll still need you."

His gaze was direct. She knew that he wasn't lying; she could always tell when he was lying. With her one free hand she brought it up to his face, brushing her fingertips over his cheekbone.

"Good to know." She said then pushed herself up and briefly pressed her lips to his, before lying back down.

A few silent moments passed before he asked her, "Can I make a suggestion?"

"Hmmm?"

"I believe it would be advantageous if we only slept naked together from now on."

Molly let out a soft chuckle, nipping at his skin with her teeth, "We shall see."