Higher 8

Day 56... Who the hell cares about weather?

Sherlock stared into the eyes of the women whose face he held firmly, but gently. He felt the heat of her breath on his wrists and the gentle sensation undid what little resolve he had left. To hell with it.

Their lips met in a soft, brief connection. While by no means an expert in the subject he knew he was doing fairly well, yet it was... Not right. Not good. Something was wrong. He sensed more than felt her eyes open as he held her there. Molly was still and stiff and not relaxed for an enjoyable embrace. Had he misstepped? Had he misread her affection for him?He began to pull away,but as soon as he gave the most hesitant of withdrawals, Ah! Yes, there was the missing element: movement. Molly was pressing her lips and returning the embrace, and it was...thrilling.

Poets had waxed endlessly on and on about the joy found in the joining of lips. They wrote of the richness like wine and sweetness of honey and roses along with a hundred other moronic synonyms to describe the meeting of two sets of lips. Sherlock had shared kisses before, most recently a number of them with Janine a few months back. While he had found her to be clever, witty and lovely their relations were awkward and panic inducing to him, it was his commitment to the case that had made them at all tolerable, and then only barely. It's an extreme, ongoing case after all.

Kissing Molly Hooper, was the opposite. She was a safe harbor, a comfort. Molly whose lovely soft eyes asked so little and offered so much. Embracing her felt like coming home. The sensations of texture, friction and the bare, base emotions flaring between he and Molly ... It was magnificent. Simple and amazing all at once.

Molly let out a gasp as her body struggled between its need oxygen and desire to continue the kiss. Her eyes, showcased her insecurity and she was making as few movements as possible as if he were a wild animal. One that she wasn't sure would bolt, or attack. There was little doubt in his mind that she anticipated him to run. A fair part of his did too, but then he had no desire to end this right now. Instead he slid his hands down her enticing neck and around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. Her hands gripped tightly to the back of his shirt, urging him closer.

"Perhaps we are not friends after all?" He asked then tipped his head back down again to capture her lips once more.

The next kiss was far less controlled. They moved together almost as if in conversation with one another. Sherlock would move and practice different pressures and Molly would respond in kind. They conveyed the longing, desire, and overwhelming fear and even lack of understanding they had to each other. This communication left no room for misunderstanding. Molly Hooper mattered to him.

During this interlude, Sherlock steered them toward the wall. And was now enjoying the delightful way she shifted when he grazed the skin at the edge of her shirt. Just as his tongue swept her upper lip to further deepen the kiss he became aware of a noise from the bed.

An irritating Calypso beat rang out interrupting what they knew was to perfect a moment to last.

"Oh God, no please not yet!" Molly moaned.

The sight of Molly, with swollen lips and lust filled eyes and the feeling of her hands holding his waist now filled him with an odd sense of pride. He had never intended on kissing her, but that certainly did not mean he was going to refrain from doing it again. Sherlock had always been driven by his desires. And right now Molly was all he could think of. There was much more still to do and learn with her, endless experiments to conduct. This was going to be a very, very interesting weekend after all. A wolfish smile took over his face.

"Jillian?" He asked. Of course it was Jillian. Now how to get Molly away from her this afternoon...

"Of course. See, I told you, she has this uncanny ability to ruin anything I enjoy. And that was... Very enjoyable. " An adorable smile and blush lit her face. It was so similar to the one the private one they would share while working together, yet the glint of desire behind it shaded this one to be all together unique. It was one he could get used to seeing on her. Sherlock decided, this was Molly Hooper's happy face. He had done it; he, Sherlock the uncaring bastard that he was, had made Molly happy for the first time in a long, long time.

"I do have to go to the church. " she told him while reading her text messages. "Aunt Ruth needs me. "

She resumed gathering her things. "But I should be back within three hours. " She stopped and stood still.

"Will you be here?" Her eyes sought his again. It wasn't so much doubt making her ask as curiosity. She still anticipated him running away.

He strode back over to her. Picking up one of her hands, lifted it up, turned it over and placed a kiss on a small scar on the center of her palm.

"I'm not leaving Molly." His reward came with the return of her new smile.

"Sherlock, I have no idea what's going on here. But... Thank you."

She slipped out the door. With one last regretful glance at him. He answered back with an equally remorseful look.

When she was gone, he resumed his seat on the leather chair and went to his Mind Palace. There was a good deal work to be done in there.


A/N.

I take it from the reviews that y'all did not like me stopping where I did the last chapter. Sorry about that.I promise to be a good author and not do that again in this story. Now that it has played out, I should have waited and added this part but I was pretty undecided on which direction to go well that, and I'm maybe, possibly/ probably, slightly concussed after I forgot to duck while reaching into my car. ( I am unbelievably clumsy) I'm doing better, but making weird choices. Yay head trauma.

Anyways, I hope this chapter makes up for that terrible cliff hanger.

Thank you for your reviews. I love them, and getting to know all you lovelies They always encourage me.

Mistykins