Chapter 10: to boldly go….
When Molly got into work on Monday morning, she was surprised to find Sherlock there waiting for her.
"Good morning, I brought tea," he greeted her expectantly.
"That's very thoughtful of you. What do you want?" Molly feared they were regressing to normal behaviour.
"I wanted to see you," he admitted.
Molly divested herself of her outdoor clothes and took a sip of tea before responding.
"You missed me? That's quite the admission."
"I know. I haven't lost my ability to reason, you know…which in itself is quite interesting because I always thought caring would slow me down. Of course, it hasn't been field-tested yet because Mycroft is not back until later today and I can't finish the MI5 case without him."
"So where do we go from here?"
"I think some kind of physical activity is required."
"Sherlock, really? I am at work!"
"Yes, I noticed. And there's no one else here right now. I don't think the cadavers will mind." He backed her up against the work bench and without pausing, lifted her up on to it.
"I thought this would be the right height, see, we're on eye level now," he said leaning across to give her a kiss.
Molly was still holding her tea, which seemed like a recipe for disaster, so she managed to put it on the bench beside her and turned her attention to the kissing. He had no right to be this good at it! But then, he'd probably researched it online. Molly parted her legs and pulled him closer. Sherlock was not expecting this: he had genuinely only been thinking neither of them would end up with sore necks. There was still had a lot to learn, and he was going to enjoy it. He reached up and pulled her hair out of its ponytail. It smelled like oranges, of course, that was just shampoo but the overall effect was the same. Molly was sucking the side of his neck. The sensation was incredible, slightly uncomfortable but he didn't want her to stop. Since her mouth was occupied, he decided to – what was the phrase – feel her up, yes, that was it. Almost tentatively, he ran his hand along her waist and cupped her right breast. Molly gasped from the shock of it – which he felt not only on his neck but reverberating through her chest.
"Oh, Sherlock!" she was actually sighing his name: the sound of it was quite arousing. He wondered if she would do it again… He rolled his thumb over her nipple, which wasn't hard to find through clothes since it was hard. Sherlock had to fight the urge to rip off her shirt right there…
Molly unlatched herself from his neck.
"Ooops. I totally did not intend to give you a hickey! You'll have to wear your scarf even more than usual." Her voice had a mischievous tone to it, she totally did intend it.
"Why would you do that? It's not like people will know it was you." Sherlock lost his train of thought as Molly untucked his shirt and slide her hands up his chest, and began unbuttoning it.
"Wait, a minute ago you were worried someone would walk in on us!"
"I got over it." She kissed him again. The sight of him still wearing his suit jacket but with his shirt hanging open was very alluring. Molly leaned back on her hands and openly admired. Sherlock could feel himself going red. He wasn't used to such intense scrutiny. Was this what it was like when he deduced other people? Finished staring, Molly quickly removed her jumper, leaving just her bra on.
"Come here, you," she grinned shyly. As their bodies reconnected, every touch seemed to have been turned up to 11. Of course, she expected the intensity of bare skin touch but he didn't. It was overwhelming. Sherlock had never felt so out of control. All that mattered was touching her…
So it was a real shame that Mycroft chose that moment to make his debut in the morgue.
Molly and Sherlock were so wrapped up in each other that they had not heard the door open, but then it was fair to admit that the sort of training Mycroft had meant he naturally did everything quietly. He was therefore able to evaluate the scene before him
His brother and the pathologist in a state of undress, her legs wrapped around his waist, neither caring who heard or saw. Mycroft took out his phone and flicked on the video camera and recorded about 15 seconds. Always useful to have blackmail material on Sherlock.
Finally, when it looked like things might go to the next, er, level, Mycroft cleared his throat.
"Oh dear, I seem to have arrived at an inopportune moment. I'll just wait outside the door while you tidy up," he said with a wicked twinkle in his eye. Before either of them could respond, Mycroft pushed the door out.
"Oh god. Is that your"….Molly panted "…brother?" She reached for her jumper, while Sherlock made quick work of his buttons.
"Unfortunately yes."
"And you said you didn't want me to meet your family?" Molly giggled at the ridiculousness of it all as she hopped down off the bench.
"I'm just going to go to the bathroom….I'll send him back in." She placed a final sweet kiss on Sherlock's lips and left.
Passing Mycroft in the hall, she said "You can go in now."
"Thank you, Dr Hooper, I presume?"
"Yes, but I think we're on a first-name basis now, don't you?"
Mycroft entered the lab. He looked at his brother and raised a single questioning eyebrow.
"Shut up!" said Sherlock.
"I made no comment! I could say many things of course. For example, I could say "Have you lost your mind?" or "What about John?" or "I leave the country for 5 days and you regress to a randy 17 year old…but of course you didn't actually have that phased first time around. I think I'll leave my comments at "About time you grew up. Make sure you use protection. Mummy is not ready to be a grandparent yet."
"Mycroft!" he looked mortified. Secretly he was relieved to be getting off so lightly.
"Now, can we get on to the case. I have the information you need…"
*o*o*o*
Mycroft stepped outside and took out his phone.
He sent a text.
John's phone beeped.
We need to meet.
Speedy's: 10 minutes
*o*o*o*
"We seem to making a habit of this," said John by way of greeting.
"Indeed, and the topic is related to our previous conversation," said Mycroft.
"Irene Adler?" John did not hide his surprise.
"No. Sherlock seems to have embarked on a relationship with Molly Hooper. Did you know?"
"I had an inkling," admitted John. "I think it'll be character building for him. But if he hurts I will have to punch him in the face."
"I think there's very little chance of him actively hurting her at the moment. I've just come from St Barts, where I walked in on them behaving like neither had their own private abode."
"Really? What were they doing?"
Mycroft's look said everything.
"No! Well. I cannot wait to see Sherlock later."
"Oh you mustn't tell him we've met. You'll have to be subtle. What are we going to do about it, John?"
"Do? Nothing. I'm not getting involved. I shall remain an impartial, amused observer. This may just be Sherlock's toughest case yet. Most rewarding too, I reckon. No. I think this will be good for him, and her, once she has him trained up."
Mycroft snorted out a laugh at the notion of anyone training Sherlock to do anything!
"Time will tell. I must be getting back to my office."
"Right, well, send my regards to Control or M or whatever letter your boss is these days."
"Sherlock will be in touch about the case, no doubt, I've given him the information he required." Mycroft took his leave with a little nod.
John decided to have a pastry with his coffee. This was going to be fun.
A/N: so I am thinking this is the end. What do people think? Should there be more? Answers on a postcard, please!