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Much love to Lexie, Pablo and Petra for their beta and support!
Molly knew all of the clichés about Hunters. How they went to a town, hooked up with a random person while adrenaline ran high before riding off again to get to the next case. That had never been her experience hunting. She'd been a teenager with her father next to her for most of her time as a Hunter. Of course, she'd had people hit on her, but she'd never the opportunity to indulge herself.
She'd lost her virginity when she went to Uni. She'd been with him for six months. Her only other lover had been a doctor at Barts about three months before Sherlock started coming around. He'd ended up transferring to Bristol.
It was not that Molly had a problem with the idea of one-night stands. She'd just never had the opportunity.
Now that she had, she wasn't sure how she felt about it.
Dean was pulling his t-shirt over his head. He seemed utterly unfazed by what had just happened.
It had been the most passionate sex Molly ever had. She couldn't deny the fact that Dean was very good at it. He obviously had quite a bit of practice.
However, she felt hollowness. As exhilarating as their kisses had been, as pleasurable as his touch was... Molly felt cold at the idea of having another such romp with Dean. She was not going to fall into his arms and profess her undying love to him.
What plagued her mind was how she was going to explain things to Sherlock.
She quickly squashed down that thought. There was no need to her to explain. She did not owe him any sort of excuse for what she'd done. She was a grown woman and not beholden to Sherlock in the least.
Yet she still felt guilty.
Dean chuckled softly, looking over at Molly, a flirtatious gleam in his eyes. "Well, Inspector Stick-Up-His-Ass doesn't know what he's missing."
"Don't," Molly snapped, protectively curling her arms around herself. She was dressed now, but she felt more exposed than ever.
Dean raised his hands. "Whoa, whoa, Doc... I was just making a joke."
Molly shook her head. "It's not a funny one."
Dean opened the driver's side door of the Impala. He glared at Molly over the hood. "Shouldn't feel guilty. You and Sherlock aren't together. So we had a bit of fun. Nothing to be ashamed of."
Molly couldn't look at Dean. "I don't usually do this."
Molly could feel Dean's gaze on her. "Well, maybe you needed to. And if that jerk's going to be so stupid that he doesn't recognize a hot piece of tail when he sees one, then you and I shouldn't feel bad about it."
Molly opened the passenger side door and climb into the car. She glanced carefully at Dean.
Dean frowned as he caught Molly's gaze. He shifted uncomfortably as their eyes met. "I mean, that iswhat's bugging you, isn't it? You didn't think..."
Molly couldn't help herself. She let out a small laugh. "Oh no! No, no, no, no, no."
Dean's brow furrowed as he scowled at Molly. "You know, it really isn't all that funny."
Molly covered her mouth, trying to stem her laughter. "Of course it's not. I'm sorry. It's just..."
"You have horrible taste in men," Dean finished.
Molly turned to look at onto the road as Dean began to drive. "I assume that's present company excluded?"
Dean went quiet, seeming to consider it for a long time. Molly glimpsed over as he shook his head. "Nope. Even then you're screwed."
When they got out of the Impala out of the motel and walked towards the door to their room, Dean turned to Molly. "Okay, maybe it would be best if we kept quiet about what just happened..."
Molly smiled softly. Dean really didn't know Sherlock all that well. She nodded. "All right, Dean. If you think that's best."
Dean opened the door to the room. Sam and Sherlock were removing supplies from a hardware store from the bag. While it all looked to be innocent, Molly knew it could all be assembled into deadly bombs.
"What happened to you guys?" Sam asked, looking worriedly over Dean and Molly.
Sherlock's shrewd gaze narrowed on Molly. She could almost hear the gears turning in his head. "I do hope you used protection, Molly. You have no idea what he has."
"Hey!" Dean snapped angrily.
Molly crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "It's not really any of your business, Sherlock."
"Of course it is." Sherlock rose to his feet, striding to Molly. "Sam and I have been out retrieving implements for a bomb to destroy a hellbeast. Meanwhile, you've been shagging a violent alcoholic with daddy issues who picks up random women because he needs to reassert the sexuality that has been confused by feelings for an angel inhabiting a male body."
"And what business is it of yours?" Molly demanded.
Dean held up his hands. "Hold up- I'm reasserting my what?"
Both Molly and Sherlock ignored Dean's interjection to focus on one another. Molly scowled at Sherlock. "Cerberus isn't a problem right now. I exorcised him. It won't last long, but we've at least got a few hours." She clenched her fists, trying to steel herself. She needed to resist the urge to fold under Sherlock's gaze. It would have been so easy. "And what I do with my personal life is none of your business."
Sherlock just continued to glare down at Molly. She wanted to look away from him. She wanted to squeak and run.
She was saved the trouble when Sherlock finally took his eyes off of her. "Fine," he said gruffly. He pushed past her, striding to the door.
"Where are you going?" Molly demanded.
"Out," Sherlock replied as he threw open the door.
"It's not safe," Molly called after him.
Sherlock glanced back over his shoulder. "I thought you said you exorcised Cerberus. Don't pretend I can't take care of myself, Molly Hooper."
Molly sighed and waved a hand dismissively, allowing Sherlock to leave without another word. Maybe it wasn't the smartest option, with Crowley and the demons out, but at least the hellhound wasn't going to be attacking. She knew Sherlock well enough that she was never going to be able to keep him around if he didn't want to stay.
Molly caught Dean's eyes as they began to go through the supplies Sam and Sherlock had picked up. Sam sighed. "What the hell were you two thinking?"
"What do you think I was thinking, Sammy?" Dean demanded. He turned his attention back to Molly. "Well, maybe you had to give him a bit of a push."
Molly tilted her head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Dean gestured to the door. "Him. Quite the hissy fit he just threw over you."
Molly shook her head. "Oh no. No." She laughed. "That wasn't... That had nothing to do with me."
Sam was looking to the door. His expression was dark. "You're right. He's been trying to get out of here since we got back."
Molly gulped as she took back to the door. "Why would he do that?"
"I think he's still having trouble dealing with demons and everything," Sam replied. "He was quizzing me about it while we were picking up what we needed."
"What about?" Dean asked.
"Everything." Sam looked to his brother. "Crowley, how demons possess people, crossroad deals."
Molly felt her stomach sink. "He was asking about crossroad deals? How much did you tell him?"
"I told him-" Sam stopped abruptly. He shook his head slowly. "You're not suggesting..."
Molly's eyes widened. "Keep working on the bombs. I need to go after him."
Dean snorted. "What would he have to gain from making a demon deal?"
Molly raced to the door. "Everything."
Sherlock finished burying the photo and waited in the middle of the intersection. He felt foolish waiting for some supernatural being to appear. Then, it seemed this was actually perfectly rational and even ordinary given the right point of view.
Behind Sherlock, he heard the dark chuckle. "Well, well, well... Maybe you're not on the side of the angels."
