Early that Friday morning, Molly roused when the mattress dipped behind her as Mycroft leaned over to kiss her temple. "Shhhhh, go back to sleep." A few minutes later she heard the shower start. Smiling, she rolled over and into his still-warm spot, breathed in faint traces of sandalwood from his pillow, then dozed off again.

#####

Molly rubbed her nose, then her hand flopped on the pillow. When something again brushed her face, she forced her eyes open and reared back, startled, at being nose-to-nose with Toby. She dropped her face on the pillow, mumbling, "Oh, Toby – what do you want?" She yelped when a cold nose touched her ear, then sighed and rolled over, pulling him into her arms.

Molly's eyes widened when she realized Toby was in Mycroft's bed. Mycroft had been surprisingly easy-going about the cat's weekend visits, but his bedroom was off limits. "Did Mycroft put you in here? Huh? Another sign of his taking care of me?" She abruptly sat up, put Toby down and reached for her phone on the bedside table. 8:30 … damn. She scrambled off the bed and into her dressing gown, retrieved Toby and hurried down the hall to "her" bedroom. She quickly freshened up, dressed, and left the room, with Toby running ahead of her.

She rounded the doorway into the kitchen at a trot, startling Mrs. Collingwood. "Good morning, Mrs. C," she said, a bit breathlessly. "Has Mycroft already left?"

"You missed him by fifteen minutes," Mrs. Collingwood replied, with a sympathetic smile. "And good morning - to you both!" She stooped to scratch Toby's ear as he rubbed against her leg.

Molly's face fell. "I meant to be up before he left," she sighed, then sat on a stool. "Did he eat breakfast?"

"A light one, which is normal for him during the week. He's only recently started enjoying a bigger breakfast on the weekends." She smiled at the pink tinge on Molly's cheeks, then brought her a cup of tea. "What can I fix for you this morning? Would you like a cooked breakfast? Fruit? Cereal?" Then, laughing, "All of the above?"

"Thank you," Molly said, sipping the tea. "I usually just get toast and jam at Bart's." A shadow crossed her face. Seeing it, Mrs. Collingwood refilled her own cup and took a seat across from Molly.

"How about some fresh fruit? Do you like yoghurt?" When Molly nodded, Mrs. Collingwood continued, "Let me put something together for you. Then, I wondered if you might like to go for a walk with me after you've finished eating. Regent's Park isn't far away." She was relieved to see the younger woman sit straighter and look at her with enthusiasm.

"Oh, Mrs. C … I'd really like that!" She took a quick sip of tea. "Do you go walking there often?" Mrs. Collingwood got up to prepare breakfast for her, and they chatted about the park and other places worth visiting around the neighborhood. She soon set a plate of fruit and toast, a cup of vanilla yoghurt, and a glass of pomegranate juice in front of Molly.

"Mmmm, thank you … this is perfect," Molly said, biting into a peach slice. "Delicious!" She put the rest of the slice in her mouth, then hesitated, tracing a pattern on the table with her fingers. "You must know I'm not used to having someone do things for me – like fix my breakfast. I do appreciate it," she finished awkwardly.

Mrs. Collingwood sat across from her again. "Looking after Mr. Mycroft – as much as he'll let me – and caring for his home is my job, and I enjoy doing it." Her brow creased as she looked out the window, then appeared to nod to herself, before turning back to Molly. "Miss Molly, I've worked for him for fifteen years and have never violated his trust in my discretion … until now, possibly." She turned her cup around on its saucer, then continued. "If he hasn't told you, you are the first person he has brought to the house during my time with him. Oh, his parents and Sherlock visit occasionally – or barge in unexpectedly, in Sherlock's case" [smiling]" – and he's had his PA come here to work in the study at times over the years, but no one he's invited for, um, personal reasons. That makes you special."

Molly blushed. "Well, we are friends."

"My point is that it would please me to assist you in any way, Miss Molly," Mrs. Collingwood said warmly, patting Molly's hand. "I care for Mr. Mycroft and have long hoped he would find someone to bring some lightness into his life."

"I hope I can, Mrs. C." Molly bit her lip. "Everyone else seems to think he is almost inhuman - an Ice Man. I did, too, at first, since he always seemed so alone, so untouchable, so … formidable! But it wasn't long before I thought differently, and these last months with me he's been so … so –" She stopped, flustered.

"He's more settled than I've ever seen him."

Molly stared at her, shocked. "Mrs. C …"

"I'm sorry, my dear." Mrs. Collingwood patted Molly's hand again. "Don't mind me. I tend to get sentimental about Mr. Mycroft, but have to hide it from him. You know his opinion when it comes to sentiment!" She stood, then smiled down at Molly. "Now, if there's nothing else I can do for you right now, I'll change my clothes before we go on that walk."

"Thanks, Mrs. C." Once alone, Molly ate the last bite of toast, refilled her cup, and tried to shrug off the housekeeper's deduction.

#####

After changing, Mrs. Collingwood sent a quick text. Off for a walk in the park. May also shop along high street if she's interested. SC

#####

They had a wonderful time on the walk. It was chilly and overcast, but dry, and a brisk walk across parts of Regent's Park, then a long circular route brought them to the SJW High Street, where they took their time looking at window displays and familiarizing Molly with what shops were located there. Pausing in front of a window filled with leather goods, Molly asked Mrs. Collingwood about Christmas at Mycroft's. "Basically, non-existent," she said. "He says he can't stand it, but usually ends up at his parents' house at some point. I decorate my little house and put a few touches in my parts of the main house, but he doesn't want a tree." She hesitated, then continued, "I think this year may be different. I may be wrong, but I believe the family may end up at Mycroft's, so he'll have to decorate or his mother will do it for him!" They laughed.

They had tea and a bite to eat before returning home. Molly left Mrs. Collingwood to her housekeeping duties, then stopped outside the kitchen, not sure how to spend the afternoon. She hung up her coat and went upstairs to freshen up, then stretched out on the bed where she was soon joined by Toby. She didn't intend to take a nap, but the combination of fresh air, exercise and a full stomach took its toll. When she woke up, it was 3:15, and she decided to go to the music room.

#####

Mrs. Collingwood was surprised to hear the chime indicating the front gate opening around 4:30 and headed to the front door, arriving just in time to open it for Mycroft. "Everything all right, Mr. Mycroft?"

"Yes," he said, handing her his umbrella while stooping to pick up Toby. "I have an early dinner cum meeting at 7:00 and need to freshen up." He paused, turning his head toward the music room and slowly smiled as he listened to what Molly was playing. He knew she hadn't heard him arrive or would have stopped since she continued to be shy about Mycroft hearing her. After a few moments, he turned back to Mrs. Collingwood, eyebrows raised.

"She's been playing for more than an hour," Mrs. Collingwood said. "She has quite a nice touch, doesn't she?" He hummed in response, then handed Toby to her and moved quietly toward the music room.

Mycroft crossed the room silently, stopping to watch Molly's hands move gracefully over the keys, then bent to kiss the side of her neck. She jumped and flattened her hands against the keyboard in a jarring crash of chords, causing both of them to wince.

"Mycroft!" She twisted to look up at him, delighted, then swung her legs around on the bench to face him. "I didn't expect you back so soon."

"Unfortunately, my dear, I'm not here for long. I have a meeting at 7:00 and need to shower and change." He bent to kiss her, then straightened. "Barring any fresh crisis, I should be back by 11."

"What about dinner?"

"It's actually a dinner meeting," he said, putting his hand under her elbow. He frowned when she resisted his help to stand.

"Mycroft, I better stay here while you get ready," she said, smiling. "You don't want to be late, and I can't promise not to delay you if I come upstairs." She lifted an eyebrow. "You're too much of a temptation."

His lips twitched as he checked his pocket watch. "Yes, you better stay downstairs ...," he looked at her, both eyebrows raised, "unless fast would do."

"Really?" Molly blushed, but took off for the stairs, saying, "Last one there's a rotten egg." Mycroft rolled his eyes, but followed after her.

#####

Molly kicked her shoes off, then crawled onto the bed, and settled in the middle of it, watching Mycroft cross the room after closing the door. She quickly pulled her shirt over her head, shoved her jeans and pants off, and twisted to flick open her bra. When Mycroft sat on the side of the bed, she scooted over to press herself against his back and whisper breathily in his ear, "You don't even have to take any clothes off." She bit his ear lobe gently. "In fact, please don't." She shifted over, tugging him after her, barely giving him time to remove his shoes.

She laughed huskily, and Mycroft suddenly got into the spirit of things. Their hands met at his waistband, then Molly let go and fell back, arms spread wide over her head, waiting. He lowered his zipper and she quickly sat back up before carefully releasing and stroking him. He started to reach toward the bedside table, but she grabbed both hands and pulled him down. "I'm clean, you're clean, I'm on the pill – " He tugged free, then slid his hands under her knees, pressing them high and wide, and caught his breath when she reached between them and rubbed him against her. At Molly's urging, he drove forcefully into her, eyes closed, groaning at his increased sensitivity, at the feel of their slick friction, before opening his eyes to the sight of her glowing face and then lower to her pert nipples, looking like tiny rosebuds in the smooth paleness of her breasts. He dropped onto his forearms, changing the angle of his thrusts as Molly encircled him with arms and legs, then slid both hands up her sides to cup her breasts, their hardened peaks rubbing against the center of his palms. She tilted her hips further, moaning loudly at the added stimulation from his slightly rough-textured suit rubbing against the tender skin of her inner thighs, stomach and breasts. She clutched at his shoulders and pulled his face to her breasts, and he took turns nibbling on and lapping one nipple, then the other. He lifted his head, panting, as Molly called out, her body tightening and pulsing around him. She moaned again when Mycroft changed his pace to short, hard thrusts, then fell over the edge with her. He slid off to the side, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

"Considering … your extensive … collection of suits," Molly said, still breathing heavily, "I have endless choices … to star in my fantasies … and feed this … newly developed appreciation … for suit porn." She smirked when Mycroft turned toward her with an incredulous look on his face. She propped herself on her elbow, and ran her eyes down and back up his body, before reaching to pat his face with her free hand. "Yep … on those nights I spend at mine ... it will be you in a suit … and me naked … in my dreams."

She grinned at him, then fell back onto the pillow. "Shouldn't you be getting a shower?" She felt the mattress dip, then lifted her head to watch as he rounded the foot of the bed and headed for the bathroom. "Thanks for fulfilling the fantasy, Mycroft!"

When the door shut, Molly sat up and looked around for her clothes, finally finding her shirt under the covers at the foot of the bed. She rolled around dressing, then stretched out on Mycroft's side of the bed with a contented sigh, feeling truly debauched and unashamed of it.

After a while, she heard him go into his dressing room through the connecting door. Less than ten minutes later, he came out carrying his jacket and strolled toward the bed, breaking stride to change course when he saw she was on his side. She rolled over as he sat on the edge of the bed, slipping a cufflink through the left cuff. She held her hand out for the other one, then slipped it through the right cuff.

Standing, he shrugged into his jacket, bent to give her a quick kiss, and then paused before patting her on the bum. "Thanks for the quickie, my dear Molly."

The git. She hid a grin, then said as he opened the door, "I sure hope you don't find yourself thinking about this during a boring meeting with the cabinet!"

Mycroft froze for a moment, an arrested look on his face, then narrowed his eyes at her and shut the door behind him.

Molly got a shower and changed before going downstairs, hesitating briefly before turning toward the kitchen. She was already blushing when she came through the door, knowing Mrs. Collingwood would know what they'd been doing and that she'd know Molly knew she knew and - oh god, Molly. Grow up!

#####

After dinner, Mrs. Collingwood invited Molly to join her in the sitting room off the back of the kitchen. It was a charming room, not overly large, but with deeply cushioned chairs and sofa, a large flat-screen television, and over-filled bookshelves. "Is your bedroom nearby, as well?" Molly asked as she inspected the books.

"Oh, no. Haven't you noticed my flat - I think it's called a granny annex - in the back garden? This sitting room is simply a kind of day-time retreat. My little home out back is wonderful - two bedrooms, a bathroom, sitting room and eat-in kitchen. Mr. Mycroft had it fitted out and redecorated exactly as I wished."

"It certainly sounds ideal."

"He also completely updated the staff quarters over the garage – bedrooms, a kitchen, etc. – for when Walter or anyone else has to be here late at night. Mr. Mycroft is thorough in such details."

"Mycroft is thorough in everything," Molly said, without thinking. She glanced up and blushed at Mrs. Collingwood's obvious amusement.

"Yes, well … would you like to watch some telly with me, Miss Molly?"

"Thank you - I would. What's on?" She asked, settling on the sofa.

At 10 p.m., Molly changed into her nightclothes and went to read in the sitting room, waiting for Mycroft to return. An hour or so later, he found her stretched out on her side on the sofa, sound asleep, book on the floor beside her, and Toby dozing in the nook created by her bent knees.

Mycroft took off his jacket and left it folded on the coffee table, then went upstairs, returning in his dressing gown and pajamas after a quick shower. He moved her feet enough to sit at the end of the sofa and ran his hand up and down her calf. Molly slowly roused, first blinking at his jacket, then twisting to look at him. "Hey."

"Hey," he returned, running his fingers up her leg to catch her hand. "You didn't need to wait up for me."

After moving Toby to the floor, Molly pushed herself up, scooted down the sofa to slip under the arm Mycroft lifted, and then snuggled against his side. When she tilted her head back, he leaned down to kiss her, then tucked her head under his chin. "Mmmm, it's nice to be home." As soon as the words left Mycroft's mouth, he went rigid and a subsequent silence was tense. When Molly didn't react in any way, he slowly relaxed again. "Are you ready to go to bed?"

In response, Molly dropped her feet to the floor, and they slowly made their way upstairs, turning lights off as they went. Molly stopped at her bedroom for a few minutes, then left the door open for Toby (who had taken to sleeping on that bed). When Molly finally crawled into bed beside Mycroft, they both let out long breaths at the same time.

"Did you have a bad day? Or a bad evening?"

Mycroft snorted. "Spending an evening in the company of politicians is exceedingly tedious."

"I can imagine," she said wryly, "if not understand the full extent of their tedious-ness." She suddenly yawned, then belatedly covered her mouth. "Sorry!"

Before he could reply, he was caught by a yawn himself, but did hide it behind a hand. "It's catching." He lifted his head off the pillow to give her a brief kiss. "Are you ready to go to sleep?"

"Ye-" Molly was interrupted by another squeaky yawn, and Mycroft laughed, kissed her forehead, then reached to turn off the lamp. "Good night, my dear."

"Good night, Myc-" [yawning] "roft." [giggle]

#####

They both slept late Saturday morning, then lay in bed cuddling – or what most people would call cuddling. Molly was sure Mycroft would reject that description strenuously. They'd been talking occasionally, but mostly dozing, when Molly asked, hesitantly, "Mycroft, is there anything you do simply for fun?"

He grimaced. "Fun?" He tilted his head and rolled his eyes. "I actually enjoy my work, despite having to deal with so many idiots." Molly snorted. "And there is music and reading and –"

"Stop!" Molly rolled over and folded her arms on his chest, then propped her chin on them. "I know about your more intellectual pursuits, but what about more, um, active pursuits?"

"Do our 'benefits' count?"

"No! Well, yes - and, thank you, if that's an acknowledgment that you actually enjoy them - but not in answer to this question."

His face settled into its neutral expression. "You know most of my time is given to work. That can come as no surprise to you."

Molly frowned. "Mycroft, I am not complaining – oh, god. All I was trying to do was lead up to asking you if you would like to go for a walk with me."

"A walk?" He frowned.

"Mrs. C and I went to the park yesterday, and it was wonderful. I just thought some fresh air might be good for you – that you might find it relaxing." Mycroft looked like he didn't agree. "Never mind – it's all right." Molly rolled off his chest and back onto her pillow. "I am not trying to change you or to manage your life."

They were quiet for a while, then, "I suppose I could –"

"No, Mycroft!" Molly sat up and twisted toward him. "I do not want you to do anything you don't want to do. If you haven't deduced this already, I am perfectly – wonderfully! - happy with our, um, arrangement. Good god, you've already far exceeded my wildest imaginings!" She blushed. "I don't mean the sex – well, that too is beyond, um - never mind." [flapping her hand dismissively] "I mean how much time you spend with me … how welcome you've made me feel here … how, um, 'open' you are with me." She leaned over and kissed him slowly. When she raised her head, he slid his arms around her and brought their mouths back together, deepening the kiss.

He pulled back enough for their lips to separate, then whispered, "I still think this should count as fun."

"Mmmm …" [kissing him again] "… are we going to take this fun to a higher level?" [another kiss]

Mycroft reached for his phone without breaking their kiss, then turned to look at it. His eyes widened. "We could, but it's already 9:30, and Mrs. C will have had breakfast ready for some time." He looked at her. "We don't have to go down now, but …"

"Oh, god!" Molly jerked away and scooted off the bed. "She really is going to think I'm some sort of sex fiend." She shrugged into her dressing gown. "When I told you at the tea shop that I was sort of 'sub-normal' in that area, I meant it. You, however, have obviously revved up my libido! I only have to think about you and I'm ready to drop trou – oh god, shut up, Molly!" She looked at him, blushing, "And, for god's sake, Mycroft, stop being such a typical man and looking so pleased with yourself!"

Mycroft grimaced at the "typical" jab, but smiled to himself after Molly hurried out of the room, then headed for the bathroom himself.

Mycroft had to leave for the study midway through breakfast after getting a call from the PM. Molly was shocked that he actually put his hand over the phone and whispered, "I have to take this – PM." He further shocked her by appearing at the door to the sitting room after lunch dressed in a pale blue jumper, jeans, and black trainers. He looked down at himself when Molly stared at him, mouth agape. "Is this not appropriate for a walk in the park?"

Molly shut her mouth, then swallowed audibly. "Where did you get the jeans?"

He frowned, brow creased. "Out of my cupboard. I do own clothes other than suits, you know."

"But do you ever wear them," Molly muttered under her breath, then added in her normal voice, "You look great! Are we really going for a walk?"

He looked confused. "Didn't you want to?"

"Yes!" She jumped up from the sofa, gave him a quick kiss, then hurried toward the stairs. "Just give me a few minutes." When Molly came back downstairs, Mycroft was holding her short coat and was wearing a [dear lord] bomber-style jacket. In black leather. She stopped on the stairs. "Do you happen to have a motorcycle parked in the garage?"

He huffed indignantly. "Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Sorry – just trying to prepare myself for further shocks." He again looked adorably confused [and wouldn't he hate that description]. How Mycroft could be so oblivious to his physical impact on Molly was beyond her understanding.

She took his arm and turned them toward the kitchen. "Where are we going?"

"We need to say goodbye to Mrs. C." She felt him glance sideways at her, but pulled him along. Mrs. Collingwood looked up when they came around the corner, ran her eyes over Mycroft, then met Molly's gaze. "We're going for a walk in the park, Mrs. C."

"How nice," she replied, lightly, though Molly saw the gleam in her eyes. "You have perfect weather for it." She went to the sink to wash her hands. "I'll have tea ready when you get back – and there's a nice chocolate cake today, with white chocolate icing."

"Oh, yum. See you later." Molly again towed Mycroft behind her as she headed toward the front door. He hadn't said anything to Mrs. Collingwood, but did wave a hand at her as they left the kitchen.

Molly hardly batted an eye when Mycroft pulled on a navy tweed flat cap and changed their direction to leave out a back door. They left the grounds via a locked gate in the rear garden wall. She figured the cap, as well as the back door departure, provided some sort of "cover" for him, whether against any neighbors who might be shocked at seeing The Ice Man ambling down the pavement or against some unknown person with less benign intent.

Molly had a wonderful time. She'd been concerned that the significant difference in their heights would cause difficulty in finding a comfortable walking pace, but she sped up just a bit, he slowed down just a bit, and somewhere in the middle, it worked.

They first followed the same route Molly and Mrs. Collingwood had taken, but split off to take the outer circle around the park for a while, then crossed the canal and walked for quite a ways on the towpath. Before they got too far around to the other side of the park, Molly stopped and took Mycroft's hand. "So, what do you think? Do you want to go farther, or head back?"

"Whatever you want is fine with me," he said, adding with a wry smile. "It's actually not as ghastly as I expected."

Molly laughed, then released his hand. "Come on, then - let's go climb a hill." He snorted, but fell in step with her as they headed toward Primrose Hill. When they reached the top, the sun was low in the sky and gave a golden hue to the panoramic view of the capital. They stopped to enjoy the view for a while, although Molly figured Mycroft was grimacing internally at all the other people who were doing the same.

When they came back down the hill and turned onto Prince Albert Road, Molly slid her arm through his and said she was ready to head for home. "And some of that chocolate cake!"

#####

"There is no way I will want any dinner tonight," Molly said, groaning. "I'm stuffed." When Mrs. Collingwood walked into the dining room at that point, she continued, "Thank you, Mrs. C. That was delicious, but I ate far too much."

"Well, you both must have worked up a good appetite on your walk," she replied, "You were gone longer than we were yesterday even though we did some window-shopping, so you must have covered a fair distance."

Mycroft set his cup in the saucer. "Thank you, Mrs. C. As Molly said, everything – but particularly the cake - was delicious." He turned to Molly. "Are you finished, my dear?"

"Finished - and done in," she groaned. "I think I need a nap."

"You should take one." He pushed his chair back, then pulled out hers. "I need to work for a while."

Two hours later, Mycroft went upstairs and, on finding his bedroom empty, turned back to Molly's room. There was no answer to his light tapping on the door, so he went in, exchanged stares with Toby, who was curled on the bed next to a Molly-sized impression in the covers, then went to tap on the bathroom door. "Molly?" At her invitation, he entered and found her submerged to her shoulders in the tub.

"Are you finished with work for now?" She shivered and slid toward the taps to turn on the hot water. She looked up as Mycroft came to stand by the tub and tried not to blush. When she turned off the water and stretched out again, he placed a folded towel on the wider part of the tub edge and perched beside her.

"Do you want me to wash your back?"

Molly looked at him and shivered for another reason when she met his eyes. "All right." Her heart rate increased as he pushed his sleeves to his elbows, then looked at her with raised brows. She slid forward a little, raised her knees and wrapped arms around them, waiting. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mycroft reach for the flannel, wring it out, then pour a glob of bath gel on it. He must have known about gel being cold straight out of the bottle because he dipped the flannel under the warm water again before placing it on her back. Molly dropped her head onto her crossed arms and groaned when he massaged in circular motions down her spine, back up, then firm circles on her shoulder blades, and across from shoulder to shoulder, pausing at the nape of her neck, then circled down her spine again. Molly grunted at the release of tension. "Oooh, that feels so good."

He warmed the flannel again and continued massaging her back. He pressed his free hand against her back, and Molly bent further, straightening her legs. He dipped the flannel further underwater and rubbed it along her waist and base of her spine, and she bit her lip, holding in another moan. When he leaned over and kissed her between the shoulder blades, she moaned out loud. "Mycroft …."

He sat up, wrung out the flannel and hung it over the tap. "Are you ready to get out?"

Molly looked up at him over her shoulder, flushing a bit, but trying to look seductive. "Would you like to get in?" Mycroft's eyes widened, and a tinge of pink colored his cheeks as he ran his eyes over her. She scooted forward, knees bent. "There's plenty of room." His eyes met hers again, and he studied her expression for a few moments before reaching for the hem of his jumper and pulling it over his head. He had a white T-shirt on under it and Molly sucked in a breath at seeing the material catch on his nipples as he stretched his arms overhead. Either he was cold or … [running her eyes down his body] … oh my god.

She slid forward and flipped the lever to let some water run out while he continued to undress, then flipped it back up and ran more hot water into the tub. She slid as far toward the taps as she could as he stepped carefully into the tub and settled behind her, then she slowly scooted back. She took hold of his calves and helped him straighten his legs out on either side of hers, then lay back against his chest. His arms were resting along the tub edge on either side of her shoulders, and she could feel his heart beating strongly against her upper back and his erection pressing against the small of her back.

She turned her head to look up at him, blushing again. "So … have you ever done this before?" He looked down at her with smiling eyes and shook his head. She wrinkled her nose "Neither have I. I'm not actually sure what to do now." She was surprised into a squeal when he took hold of her waist and pulled her farther up so her head could rest in the crook of his neck, and then his knees, slightly bent, shifted under hers to hold her in place. He stretched his foot out and turned on the hot tap, checking the temperature of the water every few seconds, adjusting each tap to reach the right warmth. Molly was impressed with his dexterity and figured she'd have got a cramp on trying the same maneuver. He turned both taps off when the water level had risen a few inches until it was partially covering her breasts.

They lay there quietly for some time and then Mycroft cupped her right breast and began a circling motion from the underside that was under water then around the upper half that was out of the water, dipping under the water and out, and so continuing, and Molly found it both arousing and oddly comforting at the same time. After a minute or so, he started the same motion with his left hand. At that, Molly tightened and pressed her head harder into the crook of Mycroft's neck. Another minute of it and she moaned, twisting her head toward him and kissing his throat. She let her head fall back and his mouth dropped onto hers, tongue pressing deep when she opened to him. She twisted farther around to stretch an arm over his shoulder, and his right hand released her breast and slid down her stomach and between her thighs. Molly moaned into his mouth as his hand cupped her, rubbing and gently pinching sensitive flesh between his fingers. Their tongues continued their sensual dance and his fingers intensified their movements until Molly pulled back, gasping, "Too much – it's too much." Mycroft's fingers stilled, but he kept his hand pressed against her, their eyes locked on each other's.

Molly let go of his shoulder and dragged her hand down his chest and across his stomach, twisting her torso farther toward him and shifting her hip until she could encircle him with her fingers. She lifted her chin a fraction and his hand left her breast and wrapped around her neck, holding her head still while he dipped his and drew her lower lip into his mouth, biting it gently, then smoothing it with his tongue. Molly flicked the tip of her tongue against his, then slid against it in a long stroke, at the same time that she began stroking him with her hand. He drew back, inhaling sharply, and tilted his head against the tiled wall. Molly dropped hers onto his shoulder and, tightening her grip, continued stroking him more firmly, pausing on the upstroke to rub her thumb from side to side. Mycroft's fingers restarted their rubbing motions, then Molly gasped as his middle finger slid deeper with a thrusting motion, followed by a second finger. Their breathing got louder and heavier, until Molly's fingers abruptly clenched tighter around him and her body tensed. Mycroft ground out her name through gritted teeth, but instead of heeding his warning, she stroked faster until she felt the sudden warmth of his release against her stomach. As their breathing slowed, Molly hummed a question - Good? - and Mycroft hummed back. Good.

Molly flicked the lever up with her toe to let the water start draining. Her initial embarrassment at meeting his eyes changed to amusement as their foreheads bumped, then his elbow hit the side of the tub, then her knee slid off his and hit the floor of the tub – each accident causing an "ow" here and an "ow" there. By the time they got to their feet, they were holding onto each other, chuckling. Mycroft wrapped a towel around Molly as she stepped out onto the bathmat, and she did the same for him. "Well, overall that was probably sexier in theory than in practice," she said, grinning.

"So, a shower?"

"Shower ... and no more hanky panky."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "I didn't start that, my dear." She silently disagreed, thinking the whole washing her back thing was nothing if not foreplay, but let it go.

They rinsed off quickly, then, wrapping a towel around his waist, Mycroft tilted his head, studying Molly as she pulled on fresh pajamas. "I hate to admit it, but I'd rather missed the kittens." He grinned with she hitched the bottoms higher, glowering at him. "No, really. I haven't seen them since the night you dropped the tea tray. They've been a fond memory for me since."

She wrinkled her nose at him, while shrugging into her dressing gown. "Well, I'm glad they don't turn you off, because they're actually my favorites." She slid her feet into slippers, then went to the vanity and let her hair down. "I should probably get dressed again, but I really don't want any dinner." [brushing her hair] "I'd rather read for a while and go to bed early."

"Would you please buzz Mrs. C and tell her neither of us wants any dinner." Mycroft picked up his shoes and clothes and followed her out of the bathroom. "I need to work awhile longer tonight, but you're welcome to join me in the study."

After he headed to his bedroom, Molly called Mrs. C and told her they'd snack on something from the fridge if either felt like eating something later. She then stretched out on the bed, closed her eyes, and once again marveled at the reality of Mycroft as a lover. Dear lord, Mycroft Holmes truly was her lover.

#####

Later on in the study, Mycroft was working on his laptop at the desk and Molly was curled up in a chair reading in front of the fire, Toby beside her. The only sounds other than the low crackling of the fire were the clicking of computer keys, interrupted from time to time by the scratching of his pen across paper, the turning of her book's pages, the cat's frequent purring.

Molly occasionally glanced up to watch him at work, dropping her eyes before he took notice. Mycroft occasionally paused to study her, curious at her seeming contentment and surprised again at how relatively easily she'd become part of his home life.

Molly left him to his work at 10 p.m., heading to bed after a quick kiss goodnight. By the time he followed her upstairs an hour later, she was asleep.

#####

They were finished with breakfast and had already settled into their respective ends of the sitting room sofa by 8:30 the next morning, Sunday papers spread around them. Molly was reading about a new West End musical starting its previews that week, when Mycroft cleared his throat. She lowered the paper and looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"Molly, have you thought any more about staying over until Tuesday?" His expression and tone of voice were casual, but she found the fact that he'd asked her again significant. She wasn't sure how, other than he was concerned enough about her being on her own to pursue it.

"I like being here, Mycroft, but you're used to having your home to yourself other than Friday to Sunday evenings," she said hesitantly. "I really don't want you to start feeling … I don't know … smothered? Invaded?"

He just looked at her with a neutral expression, his lips pressed in a straight line, then sighed. "I just thought a change in your routine for a couple more days might be welcome."

"It would." Molly rubbed her foot over his thigh. "I accept then – thank you." They both went back to reading their papers for several minutes, before she added, "I do need to go to the flat to pick up a few things before Tuesday."

"Would you like to go before lunch?"

"No, I'd rather wait until tomorrow. I'll take Toby with me and leave him for Mrs. Harrison to check on." She sat up. "It's no big deal. I just need to get some clothes for work."

"While you're getting them, why don't you bring a few extra things to keep here," he glanced at her, then turned back to his paper. "You already keep a toothbrush and other essentials here. Having extra clothing choices might come in handy some weekend." He looked back at her, brows arched. "Now that you've talked me into taking a walk, what else might you bully me into doing?"

She snorted, but considered his suggestion a good one – as well as being unexpected.

A cold rain set in mid-morning. Since there was no chance of another walk, Molly suggested some time in the gym. Mycroft agreed, even though she didn't repeat the previous week's offer to make it worth his while. Molly was surprised at how seemingly effortlessly he ran on the treadmill. She enjoyed the view while she strained on the rower.

They both did complete justice to Mrs. Collingwood's roast, potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, and the rest of the trimmings, then returned to the sitting room after lunch to sprawl on opposite sofas. Molly dozed off after a while, and Mycroft took the opportunity to go search the music room for a surprise he had planned.

#####

Molly woke to the sound of … Chopsticks?! … coming from the music room. By process of elimination, it had to be Mycroft on the piano. She almost fell over the coffee table in her haste to see THAT.

She literally came to a skidding halt beside him, when her socks slid on the polished wood floor, and she had to grab the piano to keep from falling. Mycroft broke off, ready to grab her, then laughed when she dropped onto the piano bench beside him. Exactly where I wanted you, Miss Molly.

She glanced up at him, wide-eyed. "What are you doing, Mycroft?"

"I would think that was obvious, Molly," he replied, mildly.

"But you … playing Chopsticks!"

"As hard as it may be to believe, I was actually a child at some point, my dear," he drawled.

Molly rolled her eyes. "But why play that?"

"To get you in here, hastily – and I'd say I succeeded admirably," he answered, looking smug.

Molly huffed, then noticed the sheet music in front of them. "What's this?"

"Ah." He reached to shift the pages farther away from her. "That is part of a plan which I will tell you about later. Right now, I'd like to see if you know this one." And, without hesitation, he started playing the bass part of the old Hoagy Carmichael duet, "Heart and Soul."

That Mycroft would deign to play something so … so schmaltzy tickled her so much that she forgot to be shy about playing in front of him and automatically lifted her hands and came in at the correct moment. They played through several variations of the tune, escalating in difficulty, and bumped shoulders while trying to get their hands in the right places and groaned aloud at the occasional missed note, then finished with a flourish and turned to each other, laughing delightedly. Mycroft momentarily forgot that starting with that duet had simply been part of a bigger plan and gave into the fun of it.

Neither of them had noticed when Mrs. Collingwood came to peek around the door and her resulting shocked delight at seeing the two of them. She turned away before they finished, not wanting to do anything to break the mood.

When their laughter subsided, Molly pointed toward the sheet music. "All right, what's that?"

Mycroft turned the page. "It's a duet - Schubert's 'Marche Militaire' - and I'd like you to learn it."

"Why?"

"Again, I'll tell you later." He looked down at her, brows raised. "How's your sight-reading?"

"It's actually quite good."

"Then how about we have a go at it now," he said, a challenging tone in his voice.

Molly stared at him for several moments, then raised her chin. "You're on."

And for the next hour, they sat side by side … playing through the piece together for the first time and being surprised at the relatively good results … and then discussing Mycroft's plan once he explained it to her. Molly was game for the challenge, and their second run-through was even better than the first.

They finally left the music room when Mycroft got an urgent call, which, based on his exasperated reaction to it, had turned out to be not so urgent after all. Otherwise, it was a quiet evening – dinner, reading awhile by the fire, then an early night. Before they fell asleep, Molly asked Mycroft to wake her when he got up Monday morning.

Mycroft woke Molly as requested the following morning, but did so half an hour earlier than necessary and by a method she whole-heartedly endorsed. When he eventually headed for the shower, Molly rolled onto her stomach, slid her arms under the pillow and signed happily. The next thing she knew, a warm hand stroked her bare bum, making her jump. "Are you coming down to breakfast or not?"

"Oh!" Molly rolled over, then flushed as Mycroft ran his eyes down her body. She had an urge to pull the covers over herself, but didn't want to appear silly since they'd both been naked just a little while before. Mycroft, however, was fully dressed and looked every inch the elegant Ice Man except for the warm expression in his eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips. She quickly sat up and pulled on her T-shirt and pajama bottoms. As soon as she stood, he pulled her against him and gave her a lingering kiss that was just getting interesting when Molly suddenly flinched.

"Did you just pinch me?"

Mycroft slowly slid his hand from under her kitten pajamas. "Certainly not." She huffed, then grinned when he held her dressing gown for her to slip on.

After breakfast, Molly stood at the front door, watching Mycroft leave, then went to the kitchen and told Mrs. Collingwood she was going to her flat and taking Toby with her.

"Mr. Mycroft told me your plans and suggested I go with you." Molly raised her eyebrows. "To drive you, I mean. He keeps a little runabout – as he calls it – for my use."

"I was going to take a taxi there, then the tube back, but going by car does sound much nicer. If you're sure you have the time, then, yes … please."

They left about 10 a.m. and Mrs. Collingwood found a parking space just a short distance from Molly's flat. She looked around curiously when Molly let them in. "You have a nice home here, Miss Molly."

"It's comfortable and convenient to Bart's, plus the landlady is helpful when needed and unobtrusive when not – that's about the best one can expect," Molly said, grinning. She took Toby's carrier from Mrs. Collingwood, let him out, then refilled his water bowl and set out some kibble for him. After washing her hands, she put the kettle on and invited Mrs. Collingwood to sit at the table. She found an unopened package of Bourbons and apologized for the lack of anything homemade.

While they sat at the table drinking their tea, Molly said hesitantly, "Mycroft suggested I bring some things to keep at the house. I was planning to leave it at clothing items." She paused, looking at Mrs. Collingwood. "What do you think?"

Mrs. Collingwood wiped her mouth, then leveled a gaze on Molly. "I think you should take that as an invitation to bring some of your personal items if you want." She looked around the room. "What about your kitten magnets?"

Molly laughed. "Oh, he'd just love that! Hmmm, you know what ... I think I will bring one and see if he notices – or says anything." They grinned as co-conspirators.

When they left at 11:30, Molly had her work clothes for Tuesday, some other clothes and an extra pair of shoes, a few books, and two kitten magnets for the fridge. Before they left, Molly called Mrs. Harrison and asked her to check on Toby later.

When they got back to the house, Molly placed her magnets in a prominent place on the freezer, grinned at Mrs. Collingwood, then took her other things upstairs. Her phone rang when she reached her room, so she sat on the bed and dropped everything beside her.

"Hi, Mary! What a surprise!" As they chatted about seemingly everything but what had happened the previous Thursday, Molly felt sure the call was somehow prompted by Mycroft. A word in someone's ear …. Mary asked Molly to come to theirs for dinner Tuesday evening, and she was happy to agree. They'd become pretty good friends since Mary became part of John's life – all their lives – and it would be good to catch up. And she knew Mary was probably bursting to find out more about Molly and Mycroft since there was no way John had kept that juicy bit of information to himself!

#####

Mycroft got home around half past six and wasn't called upon concerning work for the rest of the evening. They had dinner at half past seven, followed by a couple of hours in the music room, and then went upstairs around half past ten.

After having their separate showers, Mycroft and Molly settled in the chairs by the fire in his room, having a glass of wine. "Mycroft … thank you for this weekend. I may not know all of what you've done on my behalf, but I know enough." She smiled wryly at him. "I thought you avoided legwork."

He scoffed. "Legwork? I have no idea what you mean."

She put her glass down, then reached for his and put it on the table. She stood before him until he uncrossed his legs, then sat sideways on his lap, head tilted back over his upper arm, intentionally baring her throat to him, like making an offering to a vampire. She didn't know where the desire to do so came from, but a thrill shot through her when he immediately took advantage … opening his mouth against her smooth pale skin and deliberately sucking his mark on her. Molly hummed, then caught her breath when he slipped his hand under the dressing gown and palmed her breast. Mycroft then demonstrated his strength by easily lifting Molly and carrying her to the bed, where he set out to prove again just how thorough he could be.

Molly was out of bed and in the shower early Tuesday. Breakfast was light and quick and eaten at the kitchen island. Afterwards, Molly thanked Mrs. Collingwood for her help and company over the weekend, surprised her with a quick kiss to her cheek, then offered her hand, which Mrs. Collingwood took between both of hers. "We'll see you Friday, then?"

"That's right." They exchanged smiles, then Molly headed for the stairs. After brushing her teeth and smoothing her ponytail, she grabbed her handbag and went to Mycroft's room. He was coming out of the dressing room, shrugging into his suit jacket. Molly went to him, smoothing her hands over the lapels. "Thank you for a lovely weekend."

Walter greeted them as they left the house and settled in the car. It had been five days since they last shared a ride together and Molly found the trip more comfortable somehow. She turned her head to watch Mycroft as he focused on his phone. After a few minutes he turned his head and met her eyes. "All right, my dear?" She smiled. "Oh, yes." He looked at her thoughtfully for several moments, then turned back to his phone. Molly continued watching him, but he didn't seem to mind. When Walter pulled to a stop outside Bart's, he immediately got out of the car, which was unusual. Molly watched him walk to the boot and lean against it, facing away from the car. She turned back to Mycroft, a question on her face, just as he slipped his hand around the side of her neck, tilted her head back, and kissed her. Molly grabbed his shoulder, feeling off-balance physically but also mentally as he'd never done such a thing while in work mode – and being in the car equaled work. It wasn't a particularly passionate kiss, but it was thorough, and Molly felt flushed when he pulled back far enough for their eyes to meet.

"I hope today goes well, my dear," he said, before giving her another quick kiss, then settling back in his corner.

She stared at him, still astonished. "Mycroft …"

"You better go if you don't want to be late, my dear," he said, with a smile that warmed his eyes. "I'll see you Friday evening."

Molly smiled back at him, reeling inside, then got out and closed the door. She thanked Walter, and the car pulled away as she pushed through the doors of the hospital. She stopped just inside them as thoughts of Thursday filled her mind. She started down the corridor and right before she reached the first set of double doors, Mike Stamford came through them, greeted her cheerfully, and turned around to walk with her to the lab. He stayed while she put her things in her office and picked up her clipboard with the day's schedule. By the time he left, she felt more herself. Her morning was filled with lab-related duties as there were no post mortems on her list, then just before noon, Greg Lestrade came barging through the lab doors, calling her name. Molly shot up, alarmed, until she saw his big grin. "So, how are the lovebirds after a long weekend?"

"Greg!" She said, flushing. "Keep it down!"

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You all right, Molls?"

"I'm fine. How about you?"

"In this job, you have to set things aside and keep going, so I'm working on it." [She squeezed his arm.] "I really came by to ask if you'd like to go to the pub for lunch. I have to visit someone upstairs, but could be back for … quarter to one?"

"I'd like that. Thanks, Greg." When he left the lab, Molly wondered if Mycroft had put Greg up to the invitation and wouldn't have been surprised to learn she was correct.

Next to show up were Sherlock and John, mid-afternoon. "Hi, guys!" She greeted them cheerfully. "What's going on?"

For two hours, Molly had the dubious pleasure of running around the lab and several other departments handling Sherlock's various requests – i.e., demands – for assistance, and she was happy for work to feel normal again. As they were leaving, John came over and put his arm around Molly's shoulders, kissed her cheek, and said, "So we'll see you about half past seven?"

"Looking forward to it. Thanks, John."

"Come on, John!" Sherlock was waiting at the door, fidgeting impatiently. When John started that way, he called out, "Laters, Molly!" then turned with a dramatic swirl of his coat.

Molly walked to her office, smiling. She was sure Mycroft had a hand in that timing as well.

A few hours later, Mary opened her front door before Molly could reach for the knocker and pulled Molly into the house with a squeal. "It's been far too long, Molly! And …" [giving her a stern look] "…there's obviously much to catch up on."

Molly flushed. "Well …"

"To the kitchen with me now … and you can start at the beginning."

"Mary …"

"Or wherever you feel comfortable, but I need some details … please!" She stopped abruptly, causing Molly to almost run into her. "You and Mycroft Holmes … oh my god."

"I know - oh my god … Can you believe it?" And the girl talk ensued.

Having heard the start of it on Molly's arrival, John wisely kept Elizabeth entertained in her room, waiting for the first burst of excited chatter to pass downstairs.

By the time Molly got home from a wonderful evening with the Watsons, she had just enough energy to greet Toby, take a quick shower, and fall into bed. However, she was not quite sober enough to keep from grabbing her phone from the bedside table and sending Mycroft a quick text.

Mycroft didn't recognize the message as being song lyrics, but he correctly deduced that his Molly was a bit sloshed. He looked forward to showing her the text evidence when they next met. He rolled over, grinning wickedly, and focused on falling asleep.