Chapter 10

Molly smiled as she closed the door behind him. It wasn't the first time that Mycroft had come to her home, but it was the first time they had inclined to become physical.

"Would you like any tea or coffee?"

"Not right now, thank you." He looked at her couch and then smiled at her. She shrugged out of her coat and took his for him. He set his umbrella, and gloves on top of the shoe hutch near the door. With a twinkle in his eyes, Mycroft slipped his arms around Molly's waist as she walked past him.

"Oh! Mycroft!" She laughed and rested her hands on his. "Where's this coming from? I thought I was dating a distinguished man who worked in a minor position of the British Government."

Chuckling, Mycroft slowly kissed her shoulder and neck, nuzzling the back of her neck and inhaling the scent of her hair.

"He's not here right now. Would you like to leave a message?" His hands moved up to cradle Molly's chest delicately. Molly gasped and closed her eyes, enjoying the physical touch of another man.

"Yes, I want him to know that he should be gone more often." Mycroft smirked into her neck and then lightly bit her ear.

"You're so beautiful, Molly. So…enchanting." Molly's eyes fluttered closed again as she simply relaxed and drank in Mycroft's words and touch. "I wish I could show you just how much I feel. Words were never really of much use to me. I never truly understood how to interact with the world, being on such a different plane as the masses, it does create a large gap."

Molly smiled and twisted around in his arms, wrapping her own arms around his neck. "I think I know exactly how to spend the evening…" She pulled away and moved across the front room to a little cabinet. Opening it up, she show him a modern record player. A smile started playing across his lips.

Pulling out a record that had slow waltzes on it, she slipped it onto the player and set the needle into the outermost groove. Turning up the volume, music began to softly surround them.

Molly turned then and curtseyed to Mycroft. He bowed and took her head, kissed it, and pulled her into a waltz.

They were far too close together to be proper, but it didn't matter. Molly closed her eyes and trusted him to lead her. She felt like she was on air, enjoying the feel of him against her. "I've dreamed of doing this with my man." She whispered into his ear. "I've dreamed of him simply holding me, not ever letting me go. I feel safe with you, Mycroft. So safe. Stable." She clutched him tighter. "Never let me go, please."

He held her closer to him and wondered distantly what had happened in her life that would make Molly crave physical contact of a male she had deemed 'safe'. He pushed that analytical thought out of his head and focused on Molly. His woman, his love in his arms. The music was softly playing still as Molly gently untied his tie.

He lifted her and set her upon the back of the couch and eased her pantyhose and shoes off. His hand moving brazenly up her leg. Molly smiled down at him. Lifting her back down, he continued to dance with her, while slowly lowering the zipper of her dress. There would be nothing rushed in this night. Nothing half done.

Molly tilted her head back as she felt his hands slip onto her skin. She gave a quiet moan of contentment, not afraid to vocalize her happiness. Mycroft smiled and kissed her lightly on her lips.

She kissed him back gently, but thoroughly, as she divested him of his suit coat, vest, and belt.

Pulling away from him, she took his things and folded them gently on top of her bureau. Mycroft turned off the player and followed her into her bedroom. She had turned the lights on low, not off, but low. He appreciated that.

Sitting on her vanity, Molly smiled at him softly as she removed her earrings. She slowly combed her hair out. Mycroft watched her with rapt attention as he sat on her bed, folding trousers in his hands. Molly looked him up and down and then smiled widely.

"Now why would you hide such a nice form under suits all the time?" She raised her eyebrow. Chuckling, Mycroft pulled off his undershirt and allowed it to join the rest of his clothes.

"I don't mind telling you…in the morning." Molly laughed and then lifted her hair.

"Necklace?"

He obliged and unclasped the necklace and set it on her vanity. His hands curled around her shoulders as he slowly massaged her. Closing her eyes again, Molly exhaled. "Oh…" Mycroft kissed her neck as he unclipped her bra. Molly got up and turned towards him, letting it fall to the floor. Mycroft tutted and stooped to grab it. Looking up from where he was crouching on the floor, he felt a rush of blood go south. Molly smiled down at him. With a smile that was quite a lot like a predator, Mycroft scooped her up and laid her gently on the bed. He pulled her panties down, tugging gently on them and pulling them off completely, setting them down, folded, on the bedside table. With slow, precise moves, he pulled off his boxers and covered her body with his.

~they deserve their privacy~

Mycroft smiled as he stared at the ceiling of Molly's bedroom. Molly had assured him, in more ways than one, that it was definitely not too soon.

He turned over and looked at Molly. "Dr. Margret Hooper." He straightened suddenly as a thought came to him. Gently, he shook her awake.

"What?" Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up quickly, instantly awake. When she realized it was him, she slumped back down onto her mattress. "Mycroft…" She smiled at him. "You startled me. Is something wrong?"

Mycroft shook his head. "No, but a thought occurred to me. When we first met, you said that you had the option of going into forensics, or pathology, or any medical field. What did you mean?"

Blinking, Molly stared at him. "You woke me up now because of that?" He nodded, slightly confused as to what the problem was. Molly sighed and shook her head, a small smile on her face. She sat up against her pillows. Sighing, she closed her eyes and tilted her head upward. "Damn my nervous mouth. Fine. When I was growing up, my father was obsessed with science. He didn't understand imagination. He liked what he could see. He hated the arts." She played with her coverlet and sighed. "My mum was dead. Shot herself in the head two days after I was born. I'm the youngest of three children. My two brothers were older than me, Jeremy and Jordan. You know all this probably."

She looked at him sadly. "Jeremy joined the air force and got killed. Jordan got married and has kids. My father died in his lab, heart attack." She started wringing her hands slowly. "That's the back story. Jeremy loved writing. He loved everything Mum loved, and Father hated. Father made Jeremy's life a living hell. Jordan had a head for numbers, but only numbers, he couldn't understand biology for the life of him. Me…"

Molly scoffed quietly. "To Father, I was the golden child. He raised me on science textbooks instead of picture books. He told me real accounts of science and discoveries instead of fairy tales." She looked at Mycroft and gently reached out and played with his chest hair.

"By the time I was twelve I had a complex understanding of human anatomy, biochemistry, chemistry, and psychology. Father encouraged me to barely get past the arts and focus on the sciences. By the time I went into Uni, I had Master level knowledge of nearly every major medical field." Molly smiled hollowly at Mycroft.

"But you know? My father's passion became my rage. I hated everything to do with science except pathology. Pathology…that can be an art, you know?" She leaned against Mycroft quietly and inhaled his scent. "That's why, Mycroft. It was my way of getting some small form of revenge against Father. He ruled my life, told me how to dress, how to eat, how to walk, who to talk to, how to talk, who to make friends with, what non-educational books to read, what hobbies to have, how breath oxygen." Molly's hands fisted into the bed sheets, and she swallowed a sob.

"Shit…I thought I was over this." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I know how men don't like tears. Don't worry, I won't make a fuss. I won't cry." She looked at him with some small panic, as if expecting to be rebuked.

Mycroft frowned darkly, wondering if her father had instilled that fear in her too. "Molly, if you need to cry, then cry. I will not discourage you from doing something that your body wants to do." Molly was still and then the waterworks actually began. Mycroft held his…girlfriend? He grimaced. No, that simply will not do. How about…lover could work now. He nodded to himself and continued to hold his lover.

The tears eventually subsided. Mycroft glanced at the clock and nodded quietly. He wasn't going to be late for anything. All his appointments were scheduled for this afternoon. He smirked as he realized that Anthea somehow predicted he'd get…lucky. He had only hoped and dreamed. But she…she had known. Women…

Mycroft picked Molly up quickly and swung her around the room, causing her to squeal. She held onto him and started laughing. Mycroft grinned at her. "You realize that being with you makes me feel twenty years old?"

Molly laughed again and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. He looked at her as she beamed at him. Briskly getting up, he motioned her to follow him. "Now, we have to stick to the schedule. I need to get to work at two o'clock precisely, and it's just past nine now. We need to hurry in order to get everything done. Come now, let's get dressed."

"But I wanted to sleep in!" She gave him a mock pout.

"Not today! Come on! Don't dawdle!" He clapped his hands.