THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT! Well, how about we celebrate the day with another chapter, yes!? Sorry the last one was so short, but I'm glad you all liked it, despite the tininess that it was. lol. I hope this makes up for it. :D

I still do not own anything related to the actual show, books, characters, or creators. Darn.

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She had fully prepared on going to lunch that day. Until Sherlock and John intercepted her. Molly, for all her might, had tried telling him no, 'I've got a lunch date', she had implied. However, it seemed nobody cared.

"Cancel it. You're having lunch with me." Sherlock said automatically, throwing Molly off completely. She watched as he held two bags of crisps into the air. Sadly, they were not something she could force herself to stomach until she had actual food. Sherlock was mentioning one of her former boyfriends, and she caught John mention the distinct surname. 'Moriarty.'

"Uh, Jim actually wasn't even my boyfriend. We went out three times. I ended it." She announced, appearing to be proud, when all she wanted to add was 'no thanks to you'.

"Yes, and then he stole the Crown Jewels, broke into the Bank of England, and organized a prison break at Pentonville. For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly." Molly was shocked. 'Wait, he what?' she wanted to ask. Her mind then had an interesting notion. 'Did Sherlock just imply this is my fault?' With a heavy sigh, she followed the two men into the lab, ready to work.

It had been several hours into the evening, and molly could sense something was terribly off. There was something different about his scent today. Something different in his eyes. She had never seen him so determined to solve a puzzle or case so quickly. And his eyes. 'Oh my God, they look...sad? Why is he sad?' She looked at him from the corner of her eye, noting the way his fingers delicately touched the microscope he was normally so forceful with. As if he were memorizing the feel of them.

"IOU..." He muttered to himself. Molly decided she must ask.

"What did you mean 'I owe you'?" Sherlock's ear perked at her words. "You said 'I owe you', you were muttering it while you were working." She added.

"Nothing. Mental note." It was the way he had corrected himself so quickly. There was definitely something big happening, something he was trying to keep hidden from everyone. That's what had reminded her of him.

"You're a bit like my dad. He's dead. Oh, sorry." Molly had a point to this, if she could just stop stumbling over her own tongue. He was speaking, no doubt scolding her on the issue of speaking to him while he was working. 'No, I have to say this.'

"When he was dying, he was always cheerful, he was lovely. Except when he thought no one could see. I saw him once. He looked sad." She recalled the sight of her father. Old, withered. He stared out the window as if he were watching the life he knew passing by. She had remained the same, unchanged by time and the curse her blood now carried. All the while, she watched her father age, as he forgot who she was, who he was, his face held that look more and more.

"Molly..." Sherlock's voice warned her of his irritation. 'No, let me say this.' She argued in her head.

"You look sad. When you think he can't see you." Molly gave a pointed look toward John. She saw his head glance up to where the doctor stood.

"Are you okay? Don't just say you are, because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no one can see you." Molly said succession of thoughts quickly, not giving the detective any time or chance to stop her. 'Let me finish this.'

"You can see me." He said, looking at her. Molly almost laughed at him.

"I don't count." She said, just as a fact. 'We both know that.' She wanted to add. She had looked away, trying to hide the flash of sadness in her own eyes.

"What I'm trying to say is that if there's anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all, you can have me." She stated proudly. 'I can help you in ways you can't believe.' Her cunning mind wanted her to say. She caught herself in time.

"No, I just mean...I mean...If there's anything you need. It's fine." 'Of course, how do I always manage to muck up talking to him?' Molly sighed, finally done attempting to say what was on her heart. What she was willing to provide for him.

"But...what could I need from you?" His voice sounded naive in a way, almost as if he needed her help finding the answer. However, years of verbal critique and abuse, and taking advantage of her feelings, had shielded Molly from seeing the sincerity in his voice.

"Nothing. I don't know." Molly answered in a bit of frustration. The powerful side to her slipped out once again. "But you could probably say thank you, actually." It stated with a curt nod. 'Thank you for not leaving. Thank you for letting me use you. Thank you for not devouring me.' She wasn't sure which of these she had wanted his gratitude for. The only thing she knew was the surprise she felt upon hearing him.

"Thank you." Molly suddenly felt sick. Lightheaded even. She looked at the clock to see it had been more than two days since her last meal. 'Shit.'

"I'm just going to go and get some crisps. Do you want anything? It's okay. I know you don't." Molly had quickly reminded herself of his odd quirk of not eating during a case. Sherlock attempted to appease her this time, however. Molly wasn't sure why, but she felt even worse at his pitied attempt to be kind.

"I know you don't." She cut him off, before walking away and out of the lab. Sherlock watched as she bolted, quickly catching sight of the unopened bag of crisps where she had been working. When she had returned just forty minutes later, her nerves had settled enough so she was positive she wouldn't be tempted. The trace taste of iron ran on her tongue. The lab was empty, and Molly sighed a bit in relief.

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The conversation had filled a secondary part of his forefront thoughts. Her calm, sweet voice echoing in the halls of his mind palace. 'I don't count.' She had said it as a simple truth. It baffled him completely, and only added to his interest in her. In a world where no one did anything without wanting something in return, he had found her. 'Selfless, sweet molly Hooper.' she had offered herself. 'You can have me.' She had said. Which, when combined with the other evidence he had, left Sherlock wondering one thing. 'Just who are you?' The door opened, and the light switched on.

"Too late to go on the record?"

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Molly had cleaned up the mess made by the world's only consulting detective. Normally his messes would bother her, beings as it was just one more thing he assumed was her responsibility. However, his recent uncharacteristic behavior had her more worried than a few beakers and slides strewn about her lab. With everything back in its place, and the lights off, Molly left to go to her second home.

"You're wrong, you know." The deep voice had startled her from her thoughts. 'I must be losing my touch.' She told herself, not having felt his presence in the room. Molly flipped around at an almost too fast speed. She immediately saw him through the darkness, her eyes focusing on his tall form with high precision.

"You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you." His voice was lower than usual, and he spoke slowly, taking his time as if he were testing the words on his lips. He turned to face her now, and she could see something raw about him.

"But you were right. I'm not okay." Molly quickly abandoned all the giddy thoughts she had in her mind at his words. The commanding force inside her didn't allow her to hesitate either.

"Tell me what's wrong." She ordered. It caught her by surprise when he answered immediately.

"Molly, I think I'm going to die." His voice was still so cautious. It was quiet and far more careful than he had ever sounded before. Sherlock sounded scared. Which only scared her.

"What do you need?" The two normally opposing sides of her mind both agreed in this moment. She had offered herself wholly to him when she said 'You can have me'. That meant all of her.

"If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?" Molly, in that moment, had wanted to take him into her arms and give him her very essence, if it meant he would be okay. Instead she repeated her offer. 'But you are everything. Don't you understand that?'

"What do you need?" He stepped in, closer to her, close enough for her to breathe in his scent. She looked up, meeting Sherlock's gaze.

"You."

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Ooh...what's going to happen next? I was originally going to post the second part of this episode's chapter representation as one whole, but I decided to split it up...just because after the next part, I have nothing written yet...and I need to work on that. So, I hope you all like this chapter, and will come back for the next one. Thanks dears, feel free to leave me a note telling me how angry you are or how much you liked it or whatnot. :D