I'm so sorry for the delay! This one took me longer than I thought it would because I spent a lot of time pondering over how Sherlock would probably react when he's made a decision. In the end I came to the conclusion that he would stick to it and try to act right on it. And that's what I did here. It's once again really fluffy – probably the last fluffy one before it gets more angsty – and I hope you like it! Thanks again for your nice reviews to the last chapter! Kisses and cookies for all of you xx

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the other characters.

"Fancy a drink?" Sherlock asked when they stepped out of the building in which the wedding reception took place.

"That wasn't really nice, Sherlock. You could at least have said goodbye to John and Mary."

Sherlock just shrugged and waved her comment aside. "Nah, they'll understand. Mycroft can be a pain."

"No. No, you can't just leave their wedding like that. You're the Best Man."

Molly grabbed his hand and tried to drag him back inside, but unfortunately he was stronger than her and just snatched her back into his arms. He wrapped them around her, so that her back was pressed tightly against his front. Molly struggled with her arms to get free, but he was too strong and she didn't want to hurt him.

"Sherlock. Please. Let me at least say goodbye."

"Why?"

"Because it's polite. Leaving a wedding early is bad enough. Without saying goodbye? Not acceptable."

Sherlock sighed and loosened his grip around her. Molly freed herself from his arms and gave him a thankful look.

"I'll see you in a minute." She disappeared into the building and left him alone in the fresh breeze of early spring that blew softly through his curls. He leaned back against the wall next to the door and took a deep breath. He was glad that he finally saw clear again. He'd quickly been able to tidy up his mind palace and to sort things out. It was another advantage of his superior brain. There was a new room now. A sign on its door read 'Anxieties and painful experiences'. He'd locked it all away and hoped that it'd never break out again. If he had to have human errors like that he at least wanted to keep them under control. Something like that before mustn't happen to him ever again.

He'd just let one error free. Only one. Kissing Molly and meeting his pathetic brother had let him come to the decision that he wanted to give it a try. He trusted Molly and she gave him a good feeling. He was sick of fighting it and he didn't want to be lonely again. John had Mary… and maybe he could have Molly. At least once in a while.

Before Molly came back out, Mycroft appeared – of course he did - and positioned himself in front of Sherlock who was still leaning against the wall. Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes.

"What do you want, Mycroft?"

His older brother offered him a cigarette and he hesitated for a moment before he took it. His addiction was sometimes just stronger than his will and he wasn't in the mood to fight it.

"Oh, nothing. You always think I want to harm you, but in fact I just want your best, Sherlock."

Sherlock shook his head and laughed in disbelief. He dragged on his cigarette and enjoyed the dose of nicotine in his body.

"I'm a grown-up, Mycroft. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?"

"It's not like I haven't been thinking about it. I considered every aspect of it and came to the conclusion that I want Molly Hooper."

Mycroft looked up to Sherlock, one corner of his lips twitching slightly.

"So you… love her?" he spilled the word out as if it was some very disgusting piece of food.

Sherlock didn't even hesitate anymore. He'd thought about that matter long enough to know the answer.

"Yes." With his anxiety locked away in a safe room in his mind palace, he didn't mind telling Mycroft the truth. Or admitting it to himself. It was a fact, why pretending it wasn't?

"Well, then… good luck, Sherlock. I do wish you just the best."

Mycroft turned to leave – not inside again, but away from the building.

"What, you're already leaving again? You've only been here for what – five minutes?" Sherlock took a deep drag on his cigarette and watched his brother suspiciously.

"Actually, I just wanted to check up on you, see if you're… you know… okay."

Sherlock frowned at this. Had Mycroft been worried about him?

"Well, I am."

"I know." The older brother saluted, then turned around and left with large and hasty steps. Just when he was out of sight, Molly came back out, a smile lingering on her lips. It faded, though, when she noticed the cigarette in his right hand. She snatched it away with a quick move and threw it onto the ground.

"Hey!" Sherlock protested, but Molly ignored him.

"I know you have at least two nicotine patches somewhere on your body. You don't need more. It's not good for you."

He just sighed and grabbed her hand. "Whatever you say. So, fancy a drink now?"

It was already far after midnight when Sherlock and Molly arrived at Baker Street. They'd stopped at Molly's favorite pub to have a drink or two before heading home. Now they were both a bit tipsy, but not really bad.

"May I kiss you again?" Sherlock asked intentionally posh when they stumbled through the front door of 221B Baker Street. He shoved her against a wall and she felt his hot breath on her neck, which sent shivers up and down her spine.

"I insist on it."

His lips hit hers more fiercely this time, but still lovingly and not too hasty. He pulled away again after a few moments. "I'm getting better with this, right?"

"Oh, you were never really bad, you know?"

Smiling, he grabbed her hand and dragged her upstairs with him and straight into his bedroom.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Molly stopped right there and stared a bit insecure around. She'd never been in his bedroom before.

"Let's see if I'm that good with other things too?"

"Uhm… Sherlock, are you sure? I'm mean… have you even…?"

"Have I even what?"

He started to kiss her neck and Molly had to force herself to concentrate on what she wanted to say. It was pretty hard, though.

"Have you done this before?"

He didn't stop nuzzling her neck and her cleavage. Why did it have to feel so good?

"No."

"So you're a virgin?"

He still didn't stop.

"Yes."

"And you want to do this now? With me?"

"Yes."

"Why… I mean, don't you think we should wait or something? This is kind of a big deal and… I really don't want to rush things and…"

Sherlock reached up with one hand and removed the bow from the back of her head. The other hand opened the zipper on the back of her dress. He cut her off mid-sentence.

"Oh, please. I'm a 36 year old virgin, I've waited long enough."

"Fair enough. Still… look, I just broke up with Tom and things between us a rather… really, really fresh and…"

"Shhh!" Sherlock silenced her with a soft but firm kiss on her lips. Her loosened dress was sliding down her shoulders and over her arms before it fell to the ground and revealed her white, strapless bra and her matching panties made of fine lace. He stepped back a bit to eye her from bottom to top. The tingly feeling from his stomach spread downward and filled him with pleasurable warmth. Was that how people felt when they were aroused?

He reached out and touched her waist, enjoying the soft skin under his fingertips. Molly held her breath. She didn't plan on sleeping with him tonight, it'd just be way too soon, but he really didn't make it easy for her.

"Sherlock." she murmured "It's too soon."

"Is it?"

His hands were roaming up and down her back and her stomach, her arms and even her chest, to explore everything that was so new to him.

"It is."

"But I want this. I want you." Molly closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her control.

"Well. Time to learn that you can't always get what you want. I'm not saying we have to stop now, just… no sex yet, alright?"

Sherlock watched her face carefully for a moment before he nodded. She smiled slightly and took his hand to lead him over to the bed, where she sat down and dragged him with her, so that she fell backwards and he landed on top of her.

"And your really haven't done it before?"

"Nope."

"Wow. I mean… I always assumed… but knowing it for sure… and knowing you want me now out of all people…"

"Why would I want to do it with anyone else? Like I told you a few weeks ago, I never understood what people could possibly like about this. I thought it's just a waste of time. Until now. I somehow found my instinctive human sex drive because of you. I didn't even know I had one."

Molly giggled quietly. "Yeah. I can feel that."

Sherlock blinked a few times before he finally understood what she meant.

"Yes. Sorry about that. It's out of my control at this point."

"Of course it is and it's perfectly fine, really."

Smiling up to him, she started unbuttoning his shirt. He leaned over her, his beautiful eyes that seemed to change their color with the light gazing softly down on her.

She pushed his shirt over his shoulders and pulled him down to her to kiss him passionately on the lips. When their naked skin touched it felt like soft electric shocks that made them both shiver.

Molly's hands were roaming over his back, caressing every little part of it. Eventually, she managed with a quick move to change their positions, so that she was sitting on top of his hip. She smiled slyly down on him. "Okay, I'll give you another treat. But that's enough for today then."

She opened her bra with a quick move of her hands and threw it over her shoulder. Sherlock couldn't help staring at her perfectly round formed breasts. They weren't extremely small, but also not extremely big. They were perfect and Sherlock found he liked the sight of them.

His fingers touched them cautiously, almost afraid to hurt her. When he noticed that that wasn't the case and that she even seemed to like it, he smiled and pulled her down to kiss her. He gasped when her breasts touched his chest. It felt right, exciting, almost like the feeling of being high he'd once been addicted to. He finally started to understand what people might like about intercourse.

Eventually, when they both were too tired to move, Molly rested her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. It felt like she was exactly where she belonged. They fell asleep in that position, both quite satisfied with how well that day had turned out in the end.

The next day started quite peacefully. When Molly opened her eyes, she needed a few seconds to realize where she was and what had happened. Her head was resting on Sherlock's chest, his soft skin feeling warm under her cheek. She turned her face down and took in his scent. He was still asleep and Molly didn't want to wake him up, so she made sure that she'd never forget this moment, took it in to its very essence, before she disentangled herself carefully from his arms and slipped out of the bed. Being slightly cold, she picked his shirt up from the ground and put it on.

Buttoning it up, she slipped out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, just in time to run directly into Mrs. Hudson, who was carrying a tray with tea and breakfast for Sherlock.

She startled and almost dropped it, when she noticed the presence of a person in the room that wasn't Sherlock. Molly blushed and smiled at the elder woman. Mrs. Hudson needed a few seconds, but when she realized that it was Molly who was standing in Sherlock's kitchen, wearing nothing but one of his shirts, she smiled broadly and winked knowingly at her.

"Oh, Molly, dear! You almost gave me a heart attack."

She put the tray down on the table.

"What made you change your mind? I can't even express how happy I am for the two of you. It was about time for Sherlock, you know…"

"Actually it was him who changed his mind." Molly leaned against the table, fumbling with the hem of the shirt she was wearing. She straightened it to make sure it covered the whole of her bum. "I just adjusted to it."

"I always thought he was in love with John, you know? It hit me by surprise that he was about to marry a woman! I had this friend once, she was very active in 1968, you know… well, she was just the same. Men, women, she really didn't care. And you young people to today are so permissive…and sexually explicit!"

Molly chuckled quietly at this. "Oh, sorry to let you down on this, but I doubt John ever was gay. And neither was Sherlock."

"That's what John's always insisting on. But I don't quite believe him to be honest."

"You should, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock's voice suddenly appeared in the background and only seconds later he stepped into the kitchen. He was only wearing his grey pyjama bottoms and a dressing gown. "John may have some gay tendencies sometimes, but he's still straight. Just like you've been an exotic dancer, even though you don't look like it at all."

Mrs. Hudson raised an eyebrow and looked quite appalled.

"Sherlock! If you've been youtubing…"

She waved about with her arms, struggling for words, but soon realized that she didn't find any and left the room with a frustrated groan.

"She was an exotic dancer?"

"Yep." Sherlock popped the 'p' while he picked up the breakfast tray and carried it over into the living room, where he put it down on the small coffee table between the two big chairs. Molly followed him. "And she was a temp in her husband's drug cartel."

"Wow. Wouldn't have expected that."

Molly sat down in John's chair and Sherlock reached her a cup of hot and steaming tea, before he sat down in his chair on the opposite of her.

"So… how are you? Have you slept… well?" he asked and Molly smiled a bit amused.

"Yep. Better than ever."

"Hm. Me too. The direct presence of another human being seems to have a soothing effect on sleep. It's quite interesting, actually."

"And… you haven't changed your mind again?"

Sherlock frowned. "Why would I?"

Molly tucked her legs up in the chair and warmed her hands at her cup. She gave him an understanding smile.

"Well, yesterday was quite… unsettling and very emotional and you changed your mind pretty quickly about everything. In one moment you were having a panic attack – being loaded with anxiety because all these feelings were too much and too new to you and then… suddenly you stepped up for yourself in front of your brother and wanted to snog all the time. You even wanted to go further. It was quite confusing, actually. Don't get me wrong, I really liked the last part, but still…"

"I'm a high-functioning sociopath, Molly. Don't judge me with ordinary standards. That panic attack was a dangerous error and I can't ever let something like that happen again, so I blocked my anxiety out. It's there, but safely locked away. I gave in on one error, though."

"And that is?"

"These weird feelings for you. Love, I guess. For you and John.I still think it's dangerous and may turn out to be a disadvantage, but I can't and don't want to fight in anymore. Fighting it influences my concentration and efficiency worse than giving in on it. So it was an easy decision to make in the end."

"But if you love me and John, you're not a sociopath, Sherlock."

"I am. I still don't understand what I'm doing and why…and why other people do that sentimental stuff they're doing all day. All I know is that I want to spend time with you, that you give me a brilliant feeling and that I'm sexually attracted to you. Also… thinking about losing you or John to death is quite… devastating. Human sentiment. A dangerous error."

It was true. Relationships were still a mystery to him. All he could do was trying - trying to establish a new routine, a new way of handling their interactions. Maybe he could watch some other movies for research?

She almost choked on her tea at that middle part. "Okay." she forced out, voice a bit husky. She was still far away from being used to this new version of him and to their new… relationship?

"I'll try, Molly. I can't promise you much, but I promise you I'll try."

"And that's already enough for me to know." Molly smiled at him and took a sip from her tea, this time without choking on it. In this moment, sitting in an old chair that used to be John's in Sherlock's flat, drinking tea and watching him doing the same, she felt utterly happy. She'd already accepted that she'd never have a chance with him and then suddenly, when she'd almost started to stop thinking about it, everything had changed. Molly couldn't quite believe how lucky she was. But at the same time she knew she had to rein herself in. A relationship with Sherlock Holmes would never be easy and it wasn't sure he wouldn't just change his mind again one day. Their journey would still be long and hard, but Molly tried to stay optimistic. Everything was looking so good for her right now, she'd just have to focus on that. Worrying about the future wouldn't do any good at all.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, only interrupted by Mrs. Hudson who brought another plate with breakfast for Molly.

"That's so kind, Mrs. Hudson! Thank you so much."

"Everything for you, darling." The landlady winked suggestively at her, while Molly smiled back and tried not to blush. Mrs. Hudson was almost more excited about the recent events than she herself. "And Sherlock – don't you dare hurting the feelings of this wonderful lady. I'll keep an eye on you."

"I try not to. I never plan on hurting anyone, it just sort of happens."

Mrs. Hudson gave him another warning look before she turned around to leave the flat again. Molly changed a smile with Sherlock, took another sip from her tea and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes for a few seconds. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted into her nose and made her stomach growl. Until then she hadn't even realized how hungry she was.

"You should eat something, before your stomach eats me. It growls like an angry dog or a dragon."

Opening her eye again, Molly giggled and reached for her plate.

"Well, then. Let's slay the dragon. Your loss would be too unfortunate."

The following days were quite exciting for Molly Hooper. Sherlock won't let her sleep at her own flat, he wanted her to be at Baker Street basically all the time and when she was at work, he would visit her – not to examine something, like usually, but to steal a kiss from her before he headed back for a crime scene or a new client. He was starting to get used to that relationship thing, although it was still completely new to him. He continued telling her about the perks of it – and it was fascinating how excited he became when he discovered a new one. The whole thing was like a new experiment for him that kept him from being bored.

The main advantage – so he said – was the sleeping. Apparently he slept much better with her by his side after snogging for what felt like hours. They still hadn't gone further, but Molly knew it was only a matter of time.

Sherlock really tried to establish a proper relationship between them and really, he was doing quite well. Molly hadn't expected him to act like that at all, but was positively surprised. He had changed so much, it was even more impossible than usual for her to fathom the complexity of his character. She probably never would, but that was the thing about Sherlock Holmes, wasn't it? He was a closed book, a mystery. No one could ever know what he'd do or say next. After all, who'd ever have counted on him falling for her? He would never have and neither would have anyone else. Least of all her.

On a quiet Monday morning, about a week after the wedding, Sherlock texted her an address and a few words that told her that he needed her. Frowning, she took off her lab coat, grabbed her bag and her jacket and left St. Bart's without further hesitation.

Half an hour later she reached her destination. It was a crime scene near the Thames, where a body was lying sprawled out on the stony ground, several Agents of Scotland Yard, Sherlock and Anderson surrounding it. An officer held her back at the barrier tape. Sighing, she gathered courage to call for him – she really didn't like yelling across crowds of people, but what was she supposed to do?

"Sherlock!?" she called as loud as she could manage and he turned around in an instant, a big smile appearing on his face when he saw her. He gave the officer a sign to let her pass and the man nodded and pulled the barrier up to let her trough.

"What's wrong? What do you need me for?"

The attention of Lestrade, Donovan and Anderson turned toward her immediately. Unexpected new person at the scene, Molly Hooper of all people, who was said to have an affair with Sherlock, which was rather sensational. Of course they would look.

Sherlock didn't answer at first but leaned down to give her a very short, soft kiss on the lips. Molly blushed and when she looked back to the other three attendants, she noticed all kinds of reactions.

Donovan's eyes were widened in shock and disbelief, Lestrade was confused and amused at the same time and Anderson just grinned like a happy dork. She didn't even try to figure out what was going through his mind.

Molly cleared her throat and looked up to Sherlock, eyes filled with anticipation.

"I need your expertise with that body."

"But Anderson's here."

"I think he's wrong. Also, I wanted to see you."

Donovan's eyes were almost falling out of her skull now, while Lestrade was wiping with one hand over his face, shaking his head – not knowing if he wanted to laugh or scream –and Anderson was hopping up and down like an excited bunny. That was weird.

"Well then. What have we got?"

"Sherlock is right. You are wrong. The shot wasn't life threatening. It didn't kill him. Look, here, the small fracture on his skull. That's the true cause of death. I can't say it for sure, I'd have to examine her in the lab first, but I think he's had an aneuryism in the brain and the shot brought him down to the ground and let it rip. But as I said, I'd really have to examine him properly first. I might as well be wrong anyway."

"Hm. You could be right, though." Anderson murmured. "You are good, really."

Sherlock looked down on her, a proud look on his face. "That's my girl." he said, earning another weird look from Donovan. Molly felt a tingly sensation in her stomach when he called her that. It still felt all felt so surreal, because it had happened so fast. Well… fast after 7 years or something.

"But you could have figured that out yourself, Sherlock. I know you and your skills."

"Probably. But you are the pathologist and thus the expert on that matter. I just wanted to be sure I was right. And since Anderson wouldn't believe me, I needed to prove a point."

Molly stood up and straightened her clothes, giving him a soft smile.

"Well, it seems you have a thing for proving points."

"And you have a thing for helping me with doing so."

"True. But you still kept me from working. I thought you'd only let me drive across the city if it was something important."

"What could possibly be more important than a murder case?"

"Oh, I could name like a hundred things that are more important."

During their conversation they've moved towards each other and were now mere centimeters apart. Molly had a perky expression on her face, once more ready to win every argument against him.

"Okay. I want to see that. You can give me a list tonight after work. I'm looking forward to it." Sherlock winked and Molly kept up her expression. She would win that one that was for sure.

"Deal. I'll convince you, you'll see."

"Ah, I wouldn't bet on it."

"I will." Molly backed up from him, eyes locked on his, a provocative look adorning her face. Her eyes were gleaming with confidence. She loved playing these games with him. It was always challenging and great fun. At the same time she felt more and more on one level with him. And of course she knew how much fun it was for him. Sherlock was one to get bored very easily and without their little games it'd be really hard for her to keep him intrigued.

After all, they'd only made it through one week for now and she didn't even know if they were really having a proper relationship – they hadn't really talked about it yet. Everything had changed so fast – too fast maybe and Molly didn't know where they were standing. She knew he tried and he acted like he was having a relationship with her, but it was as always: With Sherlock Holmes one could never know.