Thanks for the lovely reviews. Here we go again...
VIII
At night
Watching Molly when sleep calmed Sherlock Holmes tremendously. Sleeping with her, having sex, gave him a better kick than cocaine or heroin ever had.
Once a junkie, always a junkie ...
He knew very well that he had nibbled at forbidden fruit and now walked on dangerous terrain. He had, like his brother, always kept away as far from any interpersonal things as possible. An exceptions, under certain conditions, provided the relationship with his parents. However, this attitude had become cracks in recent years ... it started with John Watson. Then Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade ... and Molly.
He was not going to revalue his "relationship" with Molly from Friends with Benefits into a proper relationship. Not because of their joint project. It was anyway unlikely to assume that something like a relationship would even considered by a certain Sherlock-I-do-not-love-and-I-also-maintain-no-relationship-Married to-my-work-Holmes.
Oh, he knew about Molly's long-standing feelings for him. She probably also thought that the emotion „love" was in this by her side ... but apparently she had been over him for she was willing simply to become the mother of his child, but she was no longer under the illusion of a possible romantic partnership. Both seemed independently convinced that her present status would develop from Friends with Benefits back into a normal friendship after a successful fertilization.
A shiver ran down his spine when Molly moved in his sleep and the warm air was passed further to him. Her body was only a few inches away from his and although Molly had occupied a large part of the bed Sherlock did not move from her to back off. On the contrary he felt a strange fluttering in his stomach. He had felt this fluttering for the first time when he had the benefit of Molly's favour on Friday night and since then every time he went to bed with Molly. After flutter sexuell arousel would hit him then.
Perhaps it is enough if I just hug her? Body contact, it's body contact after all.
Sherlock clung carefully at Molly's naked back, then his hand landed on her belly. However, her body heat caused a certain physical reaction to Sherlock.
No, it is not enough.
A kiss on the shoulder?
Just said, then actually done. Her skin was warm and soft and smelled irresistible for him. And that Molly awoke by the caress of her shoulder from her dreams had also not been his intention. It was not planned either that he found himself only seconds later in her arms again, connected in a passionate kiss and on his way to satisfy his rising need.
Lost ...
Sunday
Molly woke up early in the morning as heavy rain clapped against the windows. Beside her, yet deep and fast asleep, laid Sherlock. She just remembered that she fell asleep after a probably very surprising tete-a-tete on his chest in the middle of the night. And he still had his arm around her. When she tried to get up the man mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep beside her and pulled her even closer.
So Molly lay there and just enjoyed his proximity. A few days ago she would have never thought that she would ever lie in bed next to Sherlock Holmes or would even engage in sexuell intercourse with him. It had surprised her when Sherlock had come up with his desire to have children. Sherlock and fertility! Up to this day she would never have thought that the strange man actually wanted to be a father.
Her own desire for children was a more difficult issue given by the fact that she was currently without a partner. This constellation, Sherlock and her, was a quite promising one. For both of them. Sherlock had tried to explain and support this by both their intellect and intelligence. Molly saw it slightly differently: she still loved him and when she could not get his heart so she would take what he offered her. And a baby was a great gift. She could somehow picture their baby: Dark, wild curly hair, her eyes, his lips. Besides, she had no family. With the birth of this child she would get one of her own, if actually counting Sherlock in or not did not matter at all to her. He would always be the father. And she was sure that he would somehow grow into his role as a parent. At least she hoped so.
Next to her he awoke slowly from his dreams. Sherlock stretched tiredly, yawned with relish and started to devote her with his eyes still closed.
According to schedule, his schedule. Does he really ...?
After the morning intermezzo Sherlock quickly disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower while Molly still persevered with a pillow under the butt on the bed. He had promised to have breakfast with her at the hotel restaurant. Sherlock Holmes had actually the need for food. Food, which consisted not only of chips or crisps.
After last night, I would be worried if he would not crave food. Allegedly, Sherlock can go days without any food, only with coffee, tea and a cigarette, or if he was abstinent again, survive with the help of nicotine patches and still work perfectly. But on the other hand ... this is Sherlock Holmes. And Sherlock is not like other people.
There are enough people who think he is not human. And therefore no man.
He is definitely a man and I can indeed attest that he is very much a man!
"May I now finally remove this pillow from under my butt and go take a shower?" She was getting impatient. He himself was freshly showered and shaved and came back into the bedroom to dress. He seemed to think that a bashful dressing in the bathroom was irrelevant when they had slept together several times and had seen each other's bodies. Also Sherlock seemed to have no problem with nudity at all. And if she believed John so it was quite common for Sherlock to storm stalk naked through 221B or to sit in front of his computer just wearing a bed sheet solving cases.
"Just wait a moment, Molly, I read that the high exposure of the pelvis after the sexuell act increases the probability of conception because the sperm does not leave the vagina immediately."
"I know, but this is getting uncomfortable. Besides, I'm hungry! "
Sherlock sighed, but now he nodded and Molly rose quickly to disappear into the bathroom. Shower, then breakfast, then fresh air. Exactly in that order ...
Monday
Both seemed relieved that her weekend was over when the train arrived again in London. They had made up their story to the smallest detail. No one would know exactly what they had done in Portsmouth. Well, at least not until Molly would announce her pregnancy. Provided their efforts were crowned with success. If not, they would try their luck again in four weeks. Molly had suggested that he then spent the weekend or at least the nights would with her.
They said goodbye without big words at the station and boarded two cabs. He went to 221b Baker Street, Molly directly to work, because it had become later than expected. Thanks to a certain Mr. Holmes, whose plans always took precedence over all other things and because therefore they had missed several trains.
At home Sherlock was already expected by John Watson who at once inquired about the outcome of the case. Sherlock muttered something about 'not worth mentioning' and disappeared into his bedroom. John irritated by Sherlock's reaction he followed him.
"And what does that mean in your rating? A five? Or even lower? You've after all compelled Molly to accompany you. Speaking of which: Molly ... "
"What about Molly?"
Sherlock had not really been listening to John.
"I really want to know from you, Sherlock. So: You've shared a room with her . "
"It was more like a small suite, but only one bedroom."
"Well, suite then. However, you have not forced her to sleep on the couch, have you? "
"Unnecessarily with a king-size bed. Plenty of room. "
"And you've actually slept? During a case? "
"The investigation was exhaustive," Sherlock said only, "And ultimately simple after all. An accident that had the appearance of a murder. As I said: Not worth mentioning."
"Will Molly accompany you more often from now on?"
Sherlock grimaced: "She is an adequate replacement for you."
"Nice to be missed."
"You were busy with your family."
"They are doing very well by the way, thanks for asking."
"I did not asked."
"No, you idiot, you did not. Mary demands, moreover, that you come to dinner today ... "
"Actually ..."
"No, you will come. You have to take your godchild on the arm, feed her, do everything, that you prefer to avoid evidently. "
Sherlock was a bit restless and was now trying to distract John, or even better, to make John leave.
"Why are you here, John?"
"We have not seen each other for a week."
"You were busy, I had cases. Nothing unusual. And if you'll excuse me, I need a shower. "
John sighed but set about to leave the apartment, while Sherlock emptied his overnight bag.
"Dinner at 18:30!"
