So I'm starting to get excited about the Sherlocked Convention in London. Just over a week to go and I've booked my pics and the talk with Moriarty plus a pic with Lestrade. It's a shame Molly is the wrong day for me but other than that I cant wait.
Chapter 9
By the time he went to sleep Sherlock had almost forgotten his 'problem' earlier that day but unfortunately for him his body had not.
He fell into a deep sleep and his dreams were haunted by Molly.
They had made their way into the corridor and this time when he pressed her against the wall he wasn't having to balance: his leg was just fine. He bent down and pulled her long skirt up around her hips and then lifted her easily so her slim, bare legs could wrap around his waist.
He felt hard and desperate and just wanted to be inside her. It was a matter of seconds before he had released himself from his trousers and then he was pushing himself inside her warm, wet centre. Her mouth was on his, her tongue fighting with his own, the taste of her intoxicating him as he thrust himself inside her deeper and deeper; her moans mixed with his own as he could feel his release building deliciously.
He palmed her breast with his hand, feeling her nipple hardening underneath his touch, and the noises she made...every moan and gasp just excited him further.
Just before he came he felt her convulsing around him, his name falling from her lips and it sent him over the edge. He felt his balls tightening and his brain whiting out with pleasure as he felt his seed pumping into her.
He came to with a start and a groan feeling the sticky residue on his night shirt and his stomach. He sat up swearing in a low voice even as one of the other men told him to 'shut the fuck up'.
He grimaced as he swept the nightshirt over his head wiping the mess off his stomach before throwing it onto the floor then he swept his hands through his damp sweaty hair and over his face as he closed his eyes and thought back over the dream. He hadn't been this affected by a woman since he was a teenager and it confused and frightened him. He had always believed that caring was not an advantage and yet here he was not only caring but doing nothing to prevent them getting closer. He wasn't sure that was even a choice he could make anymore because whilst the idea of being with her scared him the thought of her with someone else made him feel sick to his stomach.
MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH
Sherlock was not the only one suffering from a sleepless night. Molly kept replaying their kisses over and over in her mind. She knew she should be ashamed of having let him touch her and kiss her in that way. It was so improper and against everything her mother and father had ever taught her about propriety but when she was with him...oh when she was with him the rest of the world, with all its strictures and rules, just seemed to melt away.
She had intended to ask him to give her some assurances before giving in to his kisses but he hadn't given her a chance and, God help her, she had loved how forceful he had been, taking from her just what he wanted. She had never given way to another person like she had with him. He enthralled her and excited her, making her feel things she never had before.
She listened to Mary's steady breathing in the bed next to hers. She had confided in her once again and Mary had just laughed and shook her head and told her it looked as though she had it bad. When Molly had asked what 'it' was Mary had just replied, 'love, Molly, love.'
They were both equally excited about their up and coming picnic and Molly resolved to wear her new best dress. It was very fashionable for London but a little risqué for Hampshire with a mid calf hemline. It was made from a thin dark cream cotton and was patterned with little red cherries. Mary had clapped her hands together and shrieked in delight when she had seen it. It certainly showed Molly's dainty ankles off to perfection, especially when teemed with stockings and her best black heeled shoes; a vast change from her duller workaday clothes and flat boots.
She just had to get through the next few days and irritatingly she knew she wouldn't see Sherlock except when doing her ward rounds as she now had to cover for Doctor Brigson who was home visiting his wife who had just given birth to their first child. That meant that one of the male orderlies would take over supervising his walks and it made Molly feel frustrated to think of those lost opportunities.
Eventually however, the morning of the picnic came around and it seemed to last an excruciating amount of time. It was well after twelve when Molly finished her duties and she had to run back to the hut to give herself some time to change and do her hair. When she arrived Mary was already dressed and was putting on a frankly daring shade of red lipstick. She offered some to Molly but she wasn't quite brave enough to try it.
Whilst Molly changed Mary laid out the food. There wasn't much but it would be sufficient and they had their kettle to make tea.
Molly kept her hair up in a simple ponytail but added a ribbon which matched her dress to make it a bit more dressy. She found she was more nervous than she expected as she glanced at the clock and saw it was almost one o'clock.
She hurried out to help Mary; thankful that the weather was warm and relieved that the position of their hut and the woods meant that they had quite a degree of privacy. Then she felt guilty at having thought such a thing. She was meeting him in the company of others this was not some secret assignation nor should it be.
A few minutes later they heard the men's voices as they approached with Sherlock berating John and telling him he had the instructions wrong and they needed to turn right. He was obviously correct in his deduction because a moment later they appeared through the trees and Molly had to put her hand on her chest to stop her gasp of shock at the sight.
Sherlock was both clean shaven and dressed. He had somehow obtained the dark green trousers and shirt and tie of an officer in the army, which of course was what he was. Molly was just not used to seeing him that way. He had had to cut the left leg of the trousers to accommodate his injured leg but still the overall look along with having his hair more slicked back and his face shaved just made him even more imposing and good looking than he had been before. Molly felt almost dowdy in comparison and she wondered what he even saw in her.
John greeted them both warmly and passed Mary two bottles of wine that they had been able to purchase somehow. Molly had never really drunk much alcohol but when Mary opened the first bottle she didn't object to having a glass, she felt it might actually give her some much needed courage.
Sherlock sat down heavily on one of the chairs and hooked his crutches over the back as he caught his breath. Molly felt suddenly shy around him, he almost seemed like a different person than the one lying in a bed who needed her. She wasn't even sure what to say to him.
He, it seemed, did not have any similar compunctions. He patted his good leg and gestured for her to sit. 'Come Molly kiss me.'
Molly gasped at his forwardness and even John let out an 'I say Holmes' but Sherlock just waved them all off irritably.
'Oh for goodness sake it's not as though no one here knows about Molly and I. I have confided in John and I see from Mary's unsurprised reaction that she also knows about us so why are we hiding. I thought the point of this afternoon was for us to be able to spend some quality time together whilst John and Mary here got to know each other and we can't do that if we're too busy being polite and boring.
He didn't seem to notice the embarrassed glances that John and Mary were giving each other at his outburst but instead he just patted his leg again and held his arms out waiting expectantly for Molly to do as he expected.
She couldn't help but smile at him and shake her head at his complete disregard for social conventions but she did as he asked and sat herself down, careful not to knock his bad leg.
He seemed so much closer and she could see every freckle and every scar on his face as he smiled at her. 'There, that's more like it. Now kiss me Molly.'
She did and it felt just as good as it had previously. They were at least a little more chaste given that they weren't alone but when he let her go a minute later he was pleased to see the heightened colour on her face and in her eyes.
The picnic went very well with lots of chatter and eating and drinking. Molly was surprised by how quickly they got through the first bottle of wine and before she knew it she was on her third glass and her head felt a little fuzzy.
Sherlock, under pressure from John and then from Molly, had regaled them all with the tale of how he had helped Scotland Yard catch a killer and whilst he didn't say anything Molly could tell he was proud about how impressed they all were with his skills. Molly had never known anyone who was so unbelievably clever, he seemed to notice small details that nobody else did and could weave from them the whole of a person's life.
It did seem that his knowledge had its limits though. John ribbingly asked him to tell them all whether the earth went around the sun or the sun went around the earth and Sherlock threw up his hands in exasperation. 'This again, why are you so obsessed with the solar system...it's not important.'
He then went into some tirade about how he kept his brain free of irrelevant information. Molly found herself not really listening but just watching him instead. She was fascinated by his lips as he spoke and by his hands as he made various gestures in the air; his fingers so long and artistic. She wished his hands could be on her right now.
It was only when Mary gasped and John and Sherlock turned to her with shocked expressions that she realised she may have actually spoke that out loud. She sat up straighter and knew she must be bright red with mortification but Mary just laughed.
'Doctor Watson, I find I could do with some exercise after all that food. Would you care to join me for a walk through the woods?'
John stood immediately and held out his good arm to her. 'I would love to Miss Morstan.'
Mary linked her arm through his and raised an eyebrow at Molly as she led Watson back down the path.
She could hear them chatting easily, listening as it faded into the distance. All the while she stared at her hands in her lap; too embarrassed to lift her head and look at Sherlock not knowing what his reaction might be.
Something tells me his reaction will be one that she likes, what do you guys think? Anyway, I hope you liked their picnic. Next time things heat up a little ;).
