Molly's POV

Molly was rudely awakened by the cab's sudden halt in front of Kitty Riley's apartment building. Sherlock threw notes at the driver and quickly removed himself from the cab, glancing behind him to make sure Molly was in fact keeping up. She sometimes hated his long legs. It made it harder to keep up with him when he was determined to get somewhere.

Three flights of stairs later, they came face to face with a locked door. A door that would not stay locked, she discovered, as Sherlock began picking away at it desperately. After a moment she heard it click open and she followed him into the horrid woman's flat. She felt morally wrong being there without permission, but then she remembered the article and suddenly it felt so right.

Flicking on a switch, Sherlock flopped down on the couch and crossed his arms. She took a place beside him. She still felt unresolved about where they stood and it bothered her. 'Now's not the time to discuss such things', she told herself, 'focus, Molly!'

"So, what is the plan, exactly?"she questioned, not breaking her eye contact with the wall.

"Well, the "break into Kitty's flat" part worked out quite nicely. I suppose now we wait for her to return home, question her, then hand her over to Scotland Yard for protection."

"Sounds good."

"Molly."

"Yes, Sherlock."

He sighed, "What's on your mind? You're obviously wracking your brain over there."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. 'Why does he always have to know everything? Just go for it.'

"Honestly, there isn't an easy way for me to put this, Sherlock. You know absolutely everything about how I feel about you, but I know nothing of how you feel about me. I don't exactly know where we stand."

"How I feel about you? Where we stand?"

"Yes."

He took a large breath, "I don't want to lie to you, Molly. I respect you too much for that. I care about you very much. I'm not a man who indulges in sentiment. As I've told you before there are few people in this world I truly care about and you are one of them. But, not all the people I care about fit into the same category. You do not fit into family. That is mainly a territory for my parents and Mrs. Hudson. Oddly, you do not fit into the friend category either. John, Lestrade, and Mary reside there."

She felt intrigued. This could either got badly or splendidly for her, "Oh?"

"You seem to rule one category on your own...a category I didn't even know I had. I do not know if I am capable of "being in love" but I do know I am capable of caring for you. So, if you're asking if I have feelings for you beyond friendship then the answer is, yes. My question to you is, are you okay with that? Would you still want to be with me?"

No hesitation, "Yes."

He looked confused. "You didn't even think about it."

"I didn't have to."

"Can I really be enough for you?"

"You'll always be enough for me." It was Molly's turn to do the kissing this time. She lunged for him and ran her fingers through his dark curls. She sucked on his bottom lip and raked her hands through his scalp. He dug his fingers into her hips in return, growling when she tugged at his locks.

"What the hell?!"

They tore apart quickly to look up at a rightfully shocked Ms. Riley. Molly could tell Sherlock couldn't help but start observing her when she came fully into his gaze.

"Hello Kitty. Looks like you just came from a hair cut," she looked horrified, "Oh don't look so shocked, even a fool could deduce that. Bits of hair on the front of your top and around your neck."

"What are you two doing in my flat?"

He gave her a wicked grin, "Looks like somebody finally bought herself a new, posh skirt. About time."

"You didn't answer my question."

"We're here about your article. It made the front page, you must be ecstatic."

She glared at him, "I would if I were the one who wrote it."

Molly, feeling angry, snatched the copy of the newspaper Sherlock had brought with him from her bag and shoved it in Kitty's face. "Well if you didn't write it," she shouted, "then why is your bloody name all over it?!"

Kitty put herself face to face with Molly, their eyes only a few inches apart. "I'd like to know that myself," she spit acidly.

"You can't honestly think for one moment I would believe anything you say? Need I remind you that I bloodied your nose because you were badgering to write an article about me."

"She's telling the truth, Molly." Both women whipped their heads in the consulting detective's direction. Molly shot him a questioning look. "When Kitty lies, she averts her gaze toward the left and her right hands twitch slightly. She has done neither since her arrival."

"I would love to know who did write that article, though," she sighed, slumping into her arm-chair, "git nearly cost me my job."

Guilt and compassion rising within her, Molly gave the woman a sympathetic smile before returning to her spot next to Sherlock. She never could hold a grudge, and sometimes she hated that about herself.

"So, no idea who it could be?" she asked shyly.

"None. All the security cameras in the building where destroyed when everyone got to work this morning. Boss called me in his office demanding to know why I published that article and I had no idea what he was talking about. I haven't been in town since the day I saw you two at the grave site. I've been at my mother's home taking care of her. She's very ill."

Molly knew what having a sick parent was like. She had never known her mother, but she had watched her father die. Cancer was a sickening thing to witness and she prayed she would never have to see anyone else she loved go through that. She felt sick at her stomach and she wanted nothing more than to go home. She tried to be polite and listen as Kitty went on, but she was exhausted. A female erotic moan coming from Sherlock's direction is what snapped her back into reality. She hadn't heard that tone since the Christmas party years ago. She glanced over at Sherlock who read his phone with a disgusted look upon his face. He quickly typed back and grabbed Molly by the wrist, pulling her from the couch.

"Sorry to cut the visit so short, Ms. Riley, but I believe I just found out who wrote that article."

Molly shrugged in Kitty's direction as she was being forced out of the door. Once outside she tugged her wrist away from Sherlock's grasp and stood in front of him, preventing him from flagging a cab.

"What was that about? Who was that text from? I recognized the tone from the Christmas party."

He seemed to downcast his eyes at the mention of the Christmas party. "We're going back to Baker Street, the person who wrote the article is already there, waiting for us."

As a cab pulled up next to them, Sherlock began to usher her in, "And just who is this author?"

Getting in beside her, "The Woman."

She furrowed her brow, "The Woman?"

He sighed and turned his attention towards the window, "Better known to you as Irene Adler."